Chapter 3 #2
I hadn’t looked so closely at a man in a very long time.
I didn’t need to for my fantasies. My leaping-off point was more about a trigger—a sentence or word or action that made my proverbial ears prick and then my imagination took over.
Like when a man teasingly called his girlfriend good girl in the line at Walmart, or when a tow truck driver put his hands on his hips and scolded a young woman, telling her she needed to pay better attention to her gauges when she was driving so late at night, or the —
“Were you studying, Mira?”
His question knocked me out of my head. Particularly the tone of said question.
“I…” I paused, took a breath, and reminded myself that outside of Rawhide Ranch, I wasn’t accountable to anyone but myself. But then I remembered that Dr. Lake’s job was to worry about people, and care for them, and that maybe I needed to stop being such a self-obsessed jerk.
“I was too tired to drive but too wired to sleep. I’m behind on an assignment because I forgot my laptop today, but I’m not behind on my reading.
I get plenty of that done while my mom naps.
” I sighed. “I was trying to distract myself because every time I close my eyes…” I couldn’t finish my sentence without crying and capable adult women didn’t bawl like little girls in front of doctors, so I let my sentence trail off.
How bonkers was I? One minute I was horny and imagining Dr. Hotstuff doing dirty things to me, the next minute I was Miss Independent, and then thirty seconds after that, I was almost sobbing my eyes out.
God, I needed a good night’s sleep.
“I’ve seen too many patients in the emergency department because of accidents caused by people falling asleep at the wheel. You did the right thing.” His expression softened. “Come on, let me take you to an all-night coffee shop, get you properly fed, caffeinated, and on your way safely.”
“You must be exhausted after your shift. I can’t impose.” A battle of excitement and danger broke out inside me. I wanted nothing more than to spend more time with him, but I knew exactly how dangerous that was.
“You’re not imposing, and I’m insisting. I’m not so great at turning my brain off either.”
His expression said, argue and you’ll find out how my hand feels on your bare ass, but of course that was just a mixture of my imagination and memories… and desire but I couldn’t let myself go there or I’d be lost.
Twenty minutes later we were sitting in a twenty-four-hour cafe drinking coffee that was surprisingly fresh and eating donuts that weren’t, while I studied everything about his handsome face.
“So, what are you studying?”
You.
I blinked. Could I say his incredibly adorable but equally sexy cleft chin and square jaw without seeming creepy?
“In university,” he prompted, and I blinked again, shaking my head to clear my mind of dirty thoughts. “Art?”
"I’m a few months away from getting a degree in medical health management.”
His brow rose. “Smart girl. What about your painting?”
I shrug. “No security in being an artist.”
“Your mother may not tell you, but she brags about you. She’s told us all about your paintings.
Sometimes parents push so much they forget to acknowledge when they’ve pushed enough.
” He shrugs, giving me a knowing smile. “And, honey, if no one ever pursued the arts, the world would be a pretty dull place.”
Ignoring the way my heart wiggled in my chest every time he called me honey, I shrugged. It was just to acknowledge his words though, because my mother picked the degree and what if I hated it or worse failed at it?
“If you remember, I have some of those overeager pushy parents too.”
I bit my lip, reminded of the times between scenes when we’d spoken about our lives.
“I remember,” I whispered. His parents, especially his father, were awful.
Though Wes had never gone deep into the details, when he’d mentioned his brother had been badly injured in a car accident, it became apparent to me that it hadn’t been his parents who’d taken care of him.
It had been Wes. His brother, a paraplegic with severe mental disabilities, died when Wes was in high school, but until he died, my guess was that Wes had done everything for him.
“They haven’t changed.” His eyes, a warm light brown, skimmed my face, making my heart flutter.
“Somehow I doubt you’re still fighting for their approval though.”
“Ha!” He leaned back in his chair and gathered a telling breath. “You’d be surprised.”
“You’re a full-fledged doctor, what more could they want? Every parent wants a doctor or lawyer in the family. You’d be my mother’s wet dream,” I said, and then blushed, because he was currently my wet dream.
He chuckled and it was deep and sexy. “Except when you come from a family of brain surgeons, remember?” He laughed and the sound tickled me in places not meant to be tickled by a laugh alone.
“My father has since been upgraded from one of the top ten neurosurgeons in North America, to one of the top three in the world. And me? I’m an ER doc.”
I blinked, not understanding and his mouth curved up on one side.
“I may as well be bussing tables at the country club as far as he’s concerned.
” Wes’s crooked grin straightened. “Acceptable specialties were cardio thoracic surgery, neurosurgery, or trauma surgery, as long as I ranked top five within ten years.” He shook his head.
“Nowhere on the list was Emergency Medicine Specialist. When I got offered a position at the only Level One trauma center in Canada, and he finally seemed a little less unimpressed, I turned it down and he stopped speaking to me. So now I’m living in Butte, Montana, working in a small city emergency department.
” He chuckled, but I read some sadness hidden in it.
“It’s like I’ve been demoted to toilet scrubber at the 7-Eleven in his eyes now, and that’s grounds for disowning me. ”
I frowned. “Ouch.” I don’t know what prompted me to do it, but I reached across the table and took his hand. An instant zing of heat shot up my arm. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. And I wouldn’t let just any toilet scrubber look after my mom, you know.”
His eyes flicked to mine and he barked a laugh.
“Don’t feel bad for me, honey.” He pressed his lips into a thoughtful frown.
“I love my job, but I’ve learned from it.
Work life balance is important because tomorrow is never guaranteed.
I used to think I was addicted to the rush of running a trauma, but it turns out I get the same rush from helping people, as a doctor and as a friend.
” His lips, so full and kissable, curved into a gentle smile that did way more than just make my heart flutter.
“Is that why you’re helping me? The rush?”
“Being around you is definitely a rush.” He winked and then stood.
“Donuts aren’t going to do it. I’m going to lose my medical license for feeding you processed sugar and caffeine.
How about something healthier. I think they have soup and sandwiches.
” He looked to a menu board at the front and asked, “Chicken noodle and a BLT on rye or Tomato and grilled cheese?”
“I’m—”
He put up a hand cutting me off. “You’re fine. I know. But I’m doing this anyway.” He gazed down at me, once again giving me his stern-eyed look. “Go ahead and argue. See where it gets you.”
I shivered involuntarily. Had I imagined that? “Chicken soup and BLT on rye, please.”
“Good girl.”
His words felt like warm honey being poured over me. When he turned to go to the counter, I set my chin in my palm and sighed, letting another fantasy weave its way through my head.
“So, medical health management, huh?” he said as he simultaneously sat down and slid a tray with our sandwiches and steaming bowls of soup onto the table. “Where does that take you in the future?”
My stomach growled at the smell and for the first time all day I felt hungry. Famished, actually.
I shrugged, swallowing. “Honestly, I have no idea.” I took a bite of my sandwich and watched as he tasted his tomato soup.
“What do you want?”
I gave him a sheepish look and asked him a question rather than tell him that I didn’t want anything like that, because who got a whole ass degree in something that they had no interest in?
“Did you always know you wanted to be an emergency medicine physician?”
He narrowed his eyes on me, letting me know he was onto my distraction technique, but he didn’t push me either. “Haven’t we talked about this?”
I shook my head, even though I had always suspected his brother’s accident had been far more of a catalyst than his parents as to why Wes had gone into emergency medicine. “No, we talked a lot but never in depth about what drove you to follow the path you took.”
“Okay then. It was my brother. The night of the accident impacted me in a visceral way. I was helpless that night, but those doctors, they knew exactly what to do. They took care of him, got him stabilized, and saved his life. Maybe that life wasn’t what it once was, but I didn’t lose him that night because of them.
“And when I did my first internship rotation, I was hooked. I loved the action, the split-second decisions that needed to be made, and the confidence you needed to make those decisions. The way life and death hung in the balance, being in the moment, the noise, and the excitement. It all fascinated me. In trauma, there’s no time to dwell on whether you did the right thing because there’s always another trauma coming through your door.
You did what you could with what you had and got them stable enough to make it through surgery. ”
Being in the moment. I got that. The only time I got to be in the moment was in a scene.
The rest of the time I was worried about an upcoming assignment, what was coming for my mom, what I was going to do when she was gone and I was all alone, or thinking about the past. How maybe if I hadn’t been such a burden to my mother, she might’ve gotten to enjoy more of her life before she was diagnosed.
When I’d graduated high school and had gotten a full-time job, and moved in with Josh, she’d planned a trip—her life-long dream trip to Thailand.
One she’d had since she was seventeen, just before I came along—her little life-altering surprise.
But she canceled it when Josh and I broke up.
I lost my job and had to move back home.
And once again, I became her life-altering surprise.
She’d always told me she never regretted having me even if it changed her life, but did she still feel that way? If she’d known she’d die before her fifty-second birthday and would never take that dream trip, would she have made a different choice?
Maybe if she’d chosen differently, she could’ve ended her days, not worrying about whether I’d make it without her, but with her mother by her side. Because maybe the family I’d never met wouldn’t have disowned her if she hadn’t had me.
I shoved my half-finished meal away.
“Maybe you’ll be hungry on the drive,” he said, and he stood to get some take out containers.
“Thank you for doing this, Dr. Lake. You didn’t have to,” I said when he returned.
“Are you really going to keep calling me Dr. Lake like we just met?”
I swallowed. I certainly wasn’t going to call him Sir, Master Wes, or Daddy if that’s what he meant.
“How about Wes?”
The suggestion was given in a soft tone as if he understood the struggle I was having with something that shouldn’t have required the slightest pause. Still, I wasn’t ready to give in so easily.
“Okay, Dr. Wes.” I pressed my lips as he chuckled and shook his head. “What? You worked hard for that title.”
“I did.”
He reached out and rubbed my hand and I could practically hear him thinking, I worked hard for the other title, too. And he had. God, had he ever.
“You’re as easy to be with as I remember, Mira,” he said taking my coat from my hand and helping me into it. “I’ve only been here three months and in the little time I spend away from the hospital, I’m with my roommates. And eighty percent of that time is awkward.”
I turned to face him after my coat was on. “Why is it awkward?”
“That’s a long story. One I don’t plan on boring you with because it will make you sleepy again.” He laughed.
And I nodded, knowing I’d taken up too much of his time anyway. Especially since he was just being nice to a girl he once knew, who needed to pull up her socks and get her shit together. After all, he was the one who’d stopped texting me.