Chapter Twenty-Seven
D amn it all, but that Friday evening Cal had a case of the nerves.
Finally, he was back at his rental house, freshly awakened from a hearty afternoon nap, like an exhausted toddler. The constant, dull headache and light sensitivity had receded. Fatigue and fogginess lingered but had improved. Now he understood why patients with head injuries needed time to heal. The injury might not be visible, but it still affected his day-to-day activities.
Thankfully, he had nothing but time right now. No shifts until next week and those would be daytime half-shifts. The chief of staff had accommodated his gradual return to work. Everyone had been great. Especially Deirdre.
They had enjoyed a few more phone calls this week, some steamy enough to get his heart pounding. All of the conversations whetted his appetite for his date with her.
He stepped out of the shower, toweled off, and shaved, careful not to nick himself. No sense bleeding all over her. According to the nurses, he had already done that with his head injury last week when Deirdre had found him at his parents’ place.
His hands shook as he buttoned up a gray dress shirt. He gave up on a necktie. Whether the tremors were due to nerves, fatigue, or brain damage, he refused to venture a guess. At least he was getting better. Hopefully, there would be no permanent damage.
He glanced in the mirror with a barked laugh. It looked like he was going to a business meeting. Which was only funny because this was literally the only business meeting attire he had brought with him. Everything else in the suitcase had been casual clothes, outdoor wear, or scrubs for work.
And two Patagonia vests, of course. You could take the doc out of the ED, but you couldn’t take the ED out of the doc.
He caught a glimpse of his graying temples. Time ticked on, regardless of how much he wished otherwise. Hauling in a big breath, he straightened, grabbed a light jacket, and picked up the keychain on the way to his car.
Why did pulling in front of Deirdre’s house feel like the eleventh hour before doom? Or the biggest decision of his entire life. He peered at her modest, neat home.
The way he saw it, he had one chance to be the guy he needed to be for her. He had this opportunity to convince Deirdre to stick with him in the near future and maybe more. What about life details? He rubbed his scalp, careful of the healing laceration where the sutures had been removed yesterday.
Thinking about plans and logistics and options made his head hurt again. He’d deal with pesky details about where to live and where to work and what a future meant—later.
Right now, he wanted to focus on Deirdre. No emergencies. No pretending.
Just the actual date night he had always wanted and that she had deserved for far too many years. Years she spent caring for Elijah at the end of his life. Years spent grieving for her parents. Years spent working on the lodge and giving her all to the hospital.
Tonight was hers. Regardless of any future, he would take care of her this evening.
At her front door, he paused before knocking and took a steadying breath.
She opened the door mere seconds after he knocked. “Hi.”
Her voice had a breathless quality to it, that Calvin craved to hear right next to his ear. “You look lovely,” he said.
She had on a newer pair of hiking boots, leggings, and a V-necked pine-green sweater with sparkly accents near her neck. Gold loop earrings finished out the night-out look.
“You clean up well, yourself.”
He shoved a hand in his pocket and waved with the other hand. “Oh, these old rags? Pshaw. ”
In a matter of seconds, her laugh healed him more than medical care and brain rest ever could. He bent and kissed her on the cheek. It was supposed to be chaste and polite, but damn him if he didn’t inhale her floral and fresh linen scent and immediately want to ditch the dinner part of the date and stay in.
“To our fine-dining establishment?” He held out an elbow and she took it.
The connection and warmth were something he had missed this past week.
“Which place will we be going to this evening?” She knew full well there was only one diner in town.
“That is but one of many surprises for our evening.”
Even in the waning twilight, her cheeks glowed pink, and he could have drunk in her beautiful smile for another five minutes.
Opening the car door, he handed her in and came around to the other side. Even though he had been cleared to drive, he remained extra careful. No need to tax his brain with too many hard decisions or multitasking. It was challenging enough thinking straight with the shushing fabric sounds and heady scent of her in this confined space.
After parking at the Yukon Valley Diner, he came around again, and she put her hand in his. That small, trusting action made him stand up straighter. Guiding her through the front door, they took a booth near the back.
“Subdued lighting?” she asked with a twinkle in her blue eyes.
“Hey, some of us look better in dim light.” He pointed a thumb at his chest. “Truthfully, it’s a little easier on my eyes.”
“Sure you’re okay?” she asked.
“I am now.”
They settled in as the waitress poured water and a few minutes later returned to take their orders.
“Thanks for going out with me,” he said.
“Of course.”
“Not of course . You made a choice to be here, after… a lot of things that have happened. That’s a big deal.”
Her smile belied the vulnerability he glimpsed in her eyes. “What you said about living in the now instead of the past? That kind of hit me in the guilt complex.”
“Is that near the liver?”
She shook her head. “Pancreas, I think.”
He mock shuddered. “ Oof. You know the rule. Never mess with the pancreas. It’ll flare up if you so much as look at it wrong. Make that organ happy and move the heck on.”
She grinned. “You’re probably right.”
Knocking his knuckles on the table, he said, “So let’s circle back to the Breakup Festival.”
“Thanks for the topic change. You know, we’ve already discussed this several times.”
“The bonk on the head might have ejected my first year of med school classes, but I still have some ability to read a situation.”
She snorted, then clapped her hand over her mouth.
He sat back and appreciated her glowing, lovely, familiar-but-somehow-new-again face. He couldn’t process all of the feelings hitting him. The head injury had shaken something loose. Maybe he truly did have more emotional lability after the concussion. It sometimes happened.
Either way, he wrestled control back and concentrated on the conversation. “Festival is tomorrow. Clyde and Amberlyn are leading the gossip charge. The sharks are circling.”
“No sharks in the Yukon River. Mostly salmon.”
“I meant the hospital staff. The Breakup Festival and dance is all about who you bring, and they’re still gunning for us.”
Crossing her arms, she said, “I thought they were gunning to win the prediction about when the river ice broke up and the river started flowing.”
“Is it flowing yet?”
“The camera that recorded the breakup timed the event at 3:12a.m. two days ago. Clyde in the ER won the pool this year. Nearly $20,000!”
“Good for him,” he said.
“Good for patients and their families. He turned right around and gave half to the hospital foundation to use on resources for family support when patients are hospitalized or in the ED.”
“That’s awesome. He’s a good person.”
“His husband would agree, though he’s also biased.” She grinned. “Clyde’s been strutting around, telling everyone about his win.”
He chuckled and reached out across the table, relieved when she slid her hand into his. “So. The festival.”
“You’re like a dog with a bone, aren’t you?”
“When I put my mind to something, yes.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, satisfied with her tiny intake of breath. “I’d like to spend Breakup Festival day with you, on another real date.”
“We’re not even done with this date!” She smiled.
God, what he’d give to see more of that smile.
“I like to plan.” He hesitated.
“But?”
“But I’m signed up for the dunking booth to raise money for hospice. Also, I want to honor Elijah.”
Her brown eyebrows shot up. “Plunging into ice water doesn’t sound safe for you.” She motioned toward his head.
“I’m not an invalid. I just had my bell rung.”
“Look, I know we use therapeutic hypothermia in certain conditions, but not two weeks after a head injury.”
“Eh, won’t hurt.”
“You sound like your dad.”
He palmed his forehead with his free hand. Ouch. Kind of ached. “Never say that again!”
After another minute of gentle laughter, she said, “Tell me a story about growing up with your folks.”
“Can do. But only if you’ll return the favor with a story about yours.”
Her eyes shimmered and he followed the line of her throat as she swallowed.
In a tight voice, she said, “It’s a deal.”
A few minutes later, their meals arrived, and they dug in. Calvin surprised himself by sharing the story of him and Pop eating all of Mom’s blackberries before she could make them into a pie. He had tried to hide the evidence, but the purple all over his face and hands gave away the crime.
“So, Pop didn’t get his blackberry pie, I got a bellyache, and Mom refused to fix us any dinner. Those were dark times.”
Her sudden sound of mirth surprised both of them, and she pressed her lips together for a beat. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I love watching you laugh. Glad you find my misery entertaining.”
“That’s a fun memory.”
“It’s memorable, all right.” He chewed his last bite of salmon patty, then pushed his plate to the side and sat back. “How about you? What’s your favorite memory?”
A shadow of a frown came and went as she tapped her lip. “There are a lot to choose from. Things I haven’t thought about in a while.”
“What was something you and your family enjoyed doing together?”
“Back in the day? Ice fishing, for sure.” She leaned forward and dropped her voice. “Not a fan nowadays, obviously.”
Right. Her parents’ plane crashed, then broke through the ice and into the river. He mentally kicked himself. “Hey. Never mind. You don’t have to share. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I mean, there was the one time Mom and Dad took Mav and me backcountry camping for fishing. Dad decided we should all go to a frozen lake way out in the bush. It’d be fun. Whee. ” She made a twirling motion with her finger. “As a ten-year-old, I was not impressed. Rather stay home and moon over my NSYNC CDs.”
“That’s fair. Lots of kids thought Justin Timberlake was hot.”
“You’re not wrong.” She shrugged. “So away we went, two sleds, two sets of dogs, ice fishing gear, tents. I’d like to say it was awful, but I really do love the beauty of the landscape here and being outdoors… It was an exciting adventure.” She hesitated.
“Until?”
“Until a couple of things happened. Unbeknownst to our parents, Mav and I had eaten all three days’ worth of snacks on the ride out.” She lifted her hands. “Hey, we were growing kids.”
He laced his fingers in hers. He loved how she closed her eyes and beamed, probably envisioning her parents as they had been years ago, healthy and vibrant. “The second thing?”
With a smile, she continued. “Well, one of the younger dogs back then, Naknek, had been chewing on his harness during the run out. We got to the site, and he finally chewed through and escaped to freedom!”
“I thought the dogs were trained to sit down where they stop.”
“Not when they are young and excitable. And, as it turns out, not particularly well-suited to dogsledding.”
He laughed. “Makes sense.”
“When Naknek took off, Dad ran after him, but the teams thought it was a terrific game. They pulled the brake claw out and took off. I was still on Dad’s sled. So, it was Dad chasing Naknek followed by me in the cargo basket of a driverless sled being pulled by yapping, ecstatic dogs who had a new game to play. Mom threw Mav back on their sled and took off after us with the dogs on her string, who also thought this was a fun game of chase.”
“That had to have been a sight!”
“Oh yeah. My team passed Naknek and Dad within fifty yards and kept on going. Luckily, I crawled back onto the sled runners to steer and finally slowed down the team. I stomped the claw again and stayed on it until Mom arrived. Thirty minutes later, Dad returned with a dog who felt zero remorse but who had a lot of personal pride. By then, we discovered that Mav and I had eaten through so much food, and at this rate we were at risk of becoming the Donner Party.”
He took a mental picture of her happy expression. “What did you do then?”
“Mav started crying because he was already hungry again. Mom walked around talking to herself and making gestures at the sky. Dad fixed Naknek’s harness. That dog still had no regrets. After some choice words, Dad turned us back around and home we went.” She tilted her head and rested her jaw on a fist. Her eyes took on a wistful glow. “We ended up eating cold sandwiches, popping popcorn, and having a slumber party in the family room. Watched DVDs and laughed all evening.”
“I love every bit of that story,” he said.
Her smile dropped. “Good memories, for sure.” She sighed. “Boy, I miss them.”
He pulled her hand to his and pressed it to his cheek for a beat. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
It took her a moment before she said anything. The ever-changing play of emotions over her face fascinated him.
“Thank you for making me remember those times.” Her rough voice contained unshed tears.
“I’m honored, Deirdre.”
They settled into comfortable silence until the waitress brought the check. After he paid, they strolled back to his car. Once buckled up, the atmosphere inside felt thicker but somehow lighter. He was aware of her every movement. Her every breath.
Arriving back to her home, he kissed her gently on the porch. After a minute, he pulled his head back. “Could I come in?”
“Like, coffee—or more?”
“Whatever you want.”
Her shadowed gaze met his. “I want more.”
He bent his head and took the kiss deeper, pressing against her. The scorching kiss went on and on until they pulled away, gasping for air.
“Calvin,” she panted, fumbling with the key and the doorknob.
“Here, let me. Damn it.” He cursed out loud when the key stuck.
His luck. Finally, he wrestled the door open, closed, and he threw the deadbolt.
When he spun back around, Deirdre had turned on the living room lamp, toed off her boots, and started undoing the buttons on his shirt. She froze mid-button and met what he assumed was his mouth-open stare.
“Too fast?” Her chest rose and fell like she had been sprinting.
He snaked an arm around her waist and pressed her against his erection, his breathing equally rapid. “Not fast enough.”
Leaning away, he pulled off the shirt then reached for his pants. The thick whiplike sound of his belt leaving the loops was followed by her intake of air. Good. Her pupils dilated in the lamplight. He wanted more of that look. The one where her lips parted, and her eyes went wide.
He closed the distance between them, slid both of his hands around her neck, and cupped the back of her head, drawing her mouth to his.
With her fingers, she traced his neck and gripped the hair at the nape, blasting all coherent thought from his mind. When he took another break from his kisses, her face shone up at him, lips glistening. He bent and ran the tip of his tongue over her upper lip.
“God, I want you, Deirdre.”
“You have me.”
He wanted to ask, all of you ?
The answer didn’t matter. He was the right guy for the right woman, right now. That was enough.
Dropping down for another kiss, he licked and nipped his way over her neck then back to her lips until her sighs caused an acute reaction in his pelvis. He reached down to adjust his pants. Didn’t help.
The only thing that would cure what ailed him was her trembling and moaning in his arms as she went to blissful pieces.
She drifted her hands over his bare abdomen, drawing shudders and testing his control.
Slowly walking her back to the bedroom while kissing her and discarding clothes along the way, Calvin paused to enjoy the vision of Deirdre. Her hair tousled, sweater off and bra straps sliding down her arms. Yes. More of this. He flipped on the bedside lamp.
She put a hand on his heaving chest and winked at him. “Oh, does this count as exertion? Because the doctor said to avoid that.”
He unhooked her bra and tossed it on the floor. “Well, I’m something of a medical professional myself and therefore can provide an objective second opinion.” He cupped her breast and ran a thumb over the taut tip.
Panting, she said, “I don’t want to be the cause of more damage to your head.”
“My… head… will be damaged if you’re not naked, stat .”
The laugh erupting from her morphed into a keening sound of pleasure as he bent and drew the nipple into his mouth, carefully scraping his teeth over the sensitive flesh.
“Oh my God,” she breathed, tightening her hand on the back of his neck.
After treating the other breast to similar care because he didn’t play favorites, he took her hand and guided her down to the bed.