Chapter 31 #2
Looking at his hand bandaged and held protectively across his waist, Josie said, “I guess crutches were out of the question.”
He grimaced. “Yep. Crutches would be a no-no for my hand. Four weeks without movement of any kind. Down to two and a half now, actually. Thank God. ”
As they stepped onto the elevator to go down to the cafeteria, she watched him out of the corner of her eye. “What would you do if I said the W word?”
“W word?”
“Yes. Wheelchair.”
His look of horror answered that question. “Don’t even go there,” he said, leaning against the wall of the elevator. “Besides, I couldn’t wheel the thing myself.” He lifted his hand to indicate why. “So, I would have to rely on other people to push me around all the time. No, thank you.”
Yes, she knew exactly how he felt about people helping him. Especially babbling women who helped him out of his underwear and changed their mind about having sex with him every other day.
As they came to a stop on the first floor, he added, “I can manage for a couple of weeks. It won’t take long for my leg to heal.”
“Especially not with a top-notch surgeon sewing you up,” she said, striving for light and friendly.
“Oh, did Mike do my sutures? I thought you did.”
Friendly faded. For hell’s sake. He couldn’t even give her credit for a decent stitch?
Josie was about to complain when she saw the grin he was struggling to suppress. His blue eyes were dancing. The jerk was actually teasing her.
She laughed, a burst of relief in the face of her fear and tension and awkwardness. “Hey! You’d better watch what you say or I won’t try to be gentle when I take those sutures out.”
The doors slid open and they stepped out of the elevator. “Somehow, Dr. Adkins, I find it hard to believe you would be anything but gentle.”
Josie wasn’t sure what he meant, but his voice was soft and husky, his gaze locked on her.
He leaned closer to her, his aftershave scent filling her nostrils and flinging her heart into her throat.
They were so close to touching, had done intimate things with each other, yet there was an ocean-wide gap between them that she didn’t know how to bridge.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, tips of his fingers brushing across ,the small of her back. “I didn’t mean to tear into you like that last week at my condo. I know you were just trying to help, and I appreciate it. I really do. I’m sorry, Josie. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
And because she was an idiot, who was certain she had lost at least two out of the four chambers of her heart to him, and because she understood that there were parts of Houston she hadn’t seen yet, she shrugged. “It’s okay.”
But given that it had been a big old scoop of pain with a dollop of humiliation on top, she added, “Just don’t do it again.”
He gave a startled laugh. “Believe me. I’ll try not to.”
“No try, only do,” she said in her best Yoda imitation, resorting to humor as a shield for her embarrassment. She did not want to be having this conversation in a hallway.
“I know you wanted to be friends, but I can’t, because I can’t separate my lust from my other feelings, and I really am sorry for that.”
So was she. Because if he couldn’t have feelings for her aside from lust, their relationship, such as it was, really was over.
As they approached the cafeteria, Houston shook his head, expression serious. “I wish... I could...”
Then without finishing his thought, he shoved the glass door open with his good arm and spoke in a low, warm voice. “Ladies first.”
It occurred to her that if he would just see reason and fall in love with her, everything would go so much easier. But that was about as likely as her fantasies at age thirteen of all the guys in One Direction fighting over her between concert sets, with Harry usually emerging as victor.
Unfortunately she was dealing with reality these days, and Houston wanted her for one thing only. As much as she wanted to give it to him, she also wanted to respect herself in the morning.
So now they had to figure out how to reestablish a working relationship between them without any awkward feelings, and possibly coffee was a first step in that direction.
“Thanks,” she said, ducking through the door. Then, wanting him to sit down and get off his bad leg, she headed for the coffeepot. “You sit down and I’ll get the coffee.”
Expecting him to argue, she hurried forward without waiting for an answer.
She went to the large pot simmering in the corner and poured two cups of black coffee, then stood in line to pay for them.
She was amazed to see on her way back that Houston had actually taken her advice and sat down.
He looked relieved to be off his leg, lounging back in his chair.
That obvious relief on his face only exasperated the uneasiness she had been feeling.
“Listen,” she said as she sat down across from him, placing their coffee on the table.
“Are you sure you’re ready to come back?
I don’t think anyone expects you to be back so soon.
I mean, you’re probably still in a lot of pain.
You just had surgery a little over a week ago.
..” she trailed off as he stared at her coldly.
“I don’t feel anything in my hand. It’s numb,” he said.
“Oh.” It was a rebuff, plain and simple. Leave me alone, his words said.
He pulled her in, he pushed her away. Houston wanted her on his terms only, and she was getting a little tired of it. But he spoke before she could think of anything to say.
“Yes.” He gave a wry and tight smile. “Oh. There aren’t exactly any words for it, which is good because I don’t feel like talking about it.”
And he never would, she was sure. “Houston, I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t mean a whole lot but—”
He held his good hand up. “No, please, don’t. I’m not ready to hear condolences yet. We won’t know anything for sure until the four weeks are up and the tendons and nerves have healed. Then PT, and with a little luck, three months from now you won’t have to be sorry for me.”
“Of course.” She dredged up a smile, even though she thought he was being a little optimistic. But it must be hell to face what Houston was, and she suspected he would have to come to terms with his new life little by little.
“So, did Dr. Stanhope actually approve your return? I’ve heard he’s a little prickly about malpractice.” Josie strove to keep her voice light as she changed the subject.
Houston grunted. “Any chief of staff should be prickly about malpractice. It could bankrupt the hospital, and Acadia Inlet isn’t exactly rolling in money. Stanhope just barely approved my return, and even that was with conditions.”
Josie took a sip of her hot coffee, and sighed with pleasure as the warm liquid coated her throat. She was feeling cold, a chill deep to the bone.
“Maybe he was just concerned about your recovery.” Houston ran his finger back and forth over the napkin Josie had set his coffee cup on. “Maybe. But I’m not really in any pain, you know. My leg is just stiff, and the sutures are starting to itch like crazy. But nobody seems to want to believe me.”
“I believe you,” she said quietly.
“Stanhope forced me to agree to only six-hour shifts for the next month. That only leaves time for one or two surgeries a day. I hope you’re a fast learner.”
Geez, so did she. Fear of being found inadequate rushed through Josie. Here was her big chance. The opportunity to prove to Houston that she was as capable as the next at being a surgeon. To prove that despite her appearance and quirky personality, she was a brain to be reckoned with.
“I’ve done a lot of fractures already, you know, given my year in ER, and a wide variety of other cases.” Which he had to be aware of. “But yes, I am a very fast learner.”
“Good.”
They settled into silence and Josie watched Houston sip his coffee, wondering if he had any idea how attractive he was. Any idea of how much she wanted him and how hard it was to keep saying no to him.
It sucked to be right. She had known it would be a mistake to sleep with him, and it had been a doozy. And now she had to pretend it had never happened, because she was determined to earn his trust in the OR. Starting tomorrow.
“So what’s on the schedule?” she asked.
He stared into his mug and shrugged. “We can go down and take a look if you want.”
“Not right now. I’ll check in an hour or so. I’ve got to head back now,” She had only abandoned six tasks to come and have coffee with him, and they couldn’t wait another ten minutes.
Houston nodded, looking distracted. He said suddenly, “So what did I really say when you were stitching me up?” Josie thought about his loopy sexual innuendos and smiled. “Are you sure you want to know?”
He groaned. “That bad?”
“No, not bad.” Good, in fact. Very good. “But I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it.”
His cup went down hard on the table, and coffee sloshed over the rim. He ignored the puddle on the table and his hand and winced. “Okay, tell me. I can take it. What did I say?”
She pushed a napkin towards him and stood up, trying not to grin, with little luck. “I’ve really got to get back now.”
“Josie,” he ground out.
“Yes, Dr. Hayes?” She tugged on her scrub pants to pull them up and raised her eyebrows.
He gave her a pained look. “What did I say besides commenting on your hair? Come on, put me out of my misery.” Josie decided to tell him the truth, and see where things went. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. “You didn’t say much,” she said with a shrug.
Then she couldn’t prevent herself from staring down at him with a little smile.
“You just asked me to take your trunks off, mentioning that I’d seen you naked before.
You reprimanded me for calling you Dr. Hayes when I had called you Houston when we spent the night together.
And you told me if it wasn’t for your father, I would be the woman you would want to be with. ”
Let’s see what he did with that.
Josie turned, her sneakers squeaking on the tile floor as she sashayed towards the door, her nicely curved hips hugged by her scrub pants, and Houston wanted to crawl under the table.