he grinned at the woman, but he shook his head. He gestured to the second cup of coffee. “I’m meeting Dr. Aston.”
Looking disappointed, the woman nodded as if she understood. “Maybe next time.”
Although usually he would have flirted back with her as naturally as taking his next breath, Ty didn’t say anything, just stirred sugar into his steaming cup of coffee. He hadn’t even called her darlin’. What was up with that?
“We can do this later if need be.”
He glanced up and knew exactly what was up. Ellie and the night they’d spent together. The amazing, out-of-this-world night they’d spent together.
Her face was red, her gaze wouldn’t meet his and she sounded agitated. A new wave of frustration hit him.
“Why would we need to do that?” He took a deep breath, reminded himself that patience was a virtue even if his had felt in short supply from the moment he’d awakened and realized she was skipping out on him.
She gestured in the direction of the departing woman.
He pulled out the chair next to his. “Have a seat.”
She sat. Not in the chair next to his but in the one directly opposite. He almost laughed at her bullheadedness. Any moment he expected her to cross her arms and glare at him in her stereotypical fashion.
If he knew what the hell he’d done to deserve her antagonism, it would be one thing, but as best he could recall, the night had been amazing all the way around.
With care, he slid the cup of coffee across to her along with two packets of sweetener and one cream.
Surprise flickered across her face. “You know how I take my coffee?”
His lips twitched. “We’ve had coffee together several times over the past week. I pay attention to details.”
She tore the packets of sweetener open and poured the contents into her cup. “You’ll get no argument from me on that one.”
“Meaning?”
She popped the top of the creamer, her face blazing red. “I’d think it obvious. You knew how I take my coffee so you must pay attention to details.”
She made a production of stirring, then taking a sip. Ty had to force his gaze away from her mouth to keep from staring, to keep from remembering where that mouth had been during the night.
Why had she been leaving that morning without waking him? Why was she acting as if she was angry with him? Had she not felt the same things he had?
“About last night,” he began, but she held up her hand.
“Don’t worry about it.” She took a slow sip of her coffee as if to stress her next point. “Last night was no big deal.”
Ouch. He studied her pale face, trying to read her thoughts, but, as she had for most of the morning, she held her emotions in check. Her face was a blank slate.
“You’re sure?” He wasn’t. Every aspect of the night had felt like a very big deal. Like something new and wonderful.
“Positive.” She set her coffee cup on the table, looked into his eyes, but quickly glanced away, toying with the empty sweetener packet papers. “We drank too much champagne and got caught up in the celebration.”
Sounded feasible to him, except that nothing similar had ever happened before and he hadn’t had that much champagne.
As he searched Eleanor’s eyes, her claim didn’t feel right. Just as the blank expression on her face didn’t feel right. Not after having seen her so alive just a few hours before. He wanted a glimpse of her smile, just to see if he’d imagined how his pulse reacted. He wanted to touch her to see if he’d imagined how his body responded to her skin against his.
“Okay, so we drank too much and got caught up in the moment.” He didn’t buy it, but he’d go with the flow for now. “You were leaving without waking me. Why?”
What was wrong with him? Mornings-after were no big deal. At least, they never had been before.
“If we hadn’t gotten called in to the hospital, I would have made you breakfast,” he added with a grin, but the gesture didn’t feel natural.
Just as she hadn’t in the delivery room, Eleanor didn’t respond to his grin other than to get pink splotches on her otherwise pale face. “Is that what you usually do? Cook breakfast for your … guests?”
He had cooked breakfast for women before. Several times. But never at his place. He didn’t have women at his apartment. Going to their place kept things simpler. Easier to walk away when it wasn’t your place you were leaving. He had brought Eleanor to his apartment, made love to her in his bed and she’d been the one who’d been going to walk away. He hadn’t liked that one bit.
Ty sighed. He’d had a great time the night before. Not just the sex, but the entire evening. Truthfully, he wouldn’t mind a repeat—several repeats. Obviously, she wasn’t of the same mind. She’d seemed to enjoy herself well enough, but maybe the champagne really had been why she’d relaxed and smiled so freely at him.
It seemed she wasn’t overjoyed that she’d spent the night with him. Actually, she was acting as if he’d been one big disappointment all the way around.
That was a feeling he was all too familiar with.
Well, hell.
“Breakfast?” Ty downed the rest of his coffee in one gulp, not caring that the hot liquid scorched his throat, then stood and answered her question. “Not always, but at least you got a cup of coffee out of the deal.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
LEANING BACK IN her chair and staring at the computer screen, Eleanor brushed a loose hair away from her face. Her entire body ached with fatigue and she’d been fighting nausea all morning.
She’d been at the hospital since about 4:00 a.m. Not that she’d been sleeping much since the night she’d spent with Ty. Sleep evaded her and when she did finally drift into sleep, memories haunted her dreams.
She rubbed tight muscles in her neck and left shoulder, forcing herself to quit thinking about Ty yet again. She’d survived five weeks without him and she’d survive the rest of her life, too. She just needed to focus on one day at a time, focus on work.
Rochelle wasn’t doing well. The tiny little girl had taken a turn for the worse and nothing Eleanor did seemed to be making a difference.
She studied the baby’s chart, looking for anything she might have missed, anything she could try that she hadn’t tried already.
There wasn’t a logical reason why Rochelle had taken a turn for the worse. The baby had been getting a little stronger each day and then she’d just stopped.
The baby’s father hadn’t been to see his tiny daughter, was still grieving the loss of his wife and couldn’t bear becoming attached to a baby he felt certain wasn’t going to live. Eleanor had called him, told him
