Heart Surgeon, Hero...Husband?. Susan Carlisle

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setting the paper cup on the table. He looked at her. “I have to ask: where is Mr. Quinn?”

      “That’s not really your business, is it?”

      “Yes, and no. If he’s going to be coming into the hospital and making parental demands and disrupting Jake’s care, yes, it is. For the other, I’m just curious.”

      “There’s no worries where he’s concerned.” Her look bored into his. “He left us.”

      Scott’s flinch was barely discernible. “When?”

      “Just after Jake was born.”

      “You’ve no family?”

      “None nearby. My sister is living in California now. I told her to hold off coming. I don’t know how long we’ll have to wait on a heart.”

      His sympathetic regard made her look away. “There’s no one that can be here with you?”

      “No. When you’re a single parent with a small child, relatively new to town and you have to work, it leaves little time to make friends.”

      “I understand. Doctors’ hours are much the same way.”

      “As I remember it, you didn’t have any trouble making time for a social life.” She softened the dig with a wry curl of her lips.

      He chuckled. That low, rough sound vibrated around them and through her. She took a sip of her tea.

      Scott drained his cup before looking at her again. “Uh, Hannah, about us …” “There is no us.”

      “You know what I mean. You have to admit this situation is unusual at best.”

      She placed her cup on the table. “Scott, the only thing I’m interested in is Jake getting a new heart. Whatever we had or didn’t have was over and done with years ago. You’re Jake’s heart surgeon. That’s our only relationship.” She probably sounded bitter, but she didn’t have the energy to deal with her emotions where he was concerned. Particularly not today. She needed time to think, to sort through her feelings. Scott twisted his coffee cup around, making a tapping noise on the table.

      “Hannah, I shouldn’t have left like I did. I thought I was doing the best thing for you. I was wrong not to tell you I was leaving town.”

      She put up her hands. “Let’s just concentrate on Jake. I don’t have the energy to rehash the past.”

      He gave a resigned nod, but she didn’t think the subject permanently closed.

      “Then would you at least tell me why you’re not nursing?”

      “I took a leave of absence when Jake started getting sicker. I didn’t think he needed to be in a day-care situation, and I couldn’t find private care close enough to home to make it work.”

      “That’s understandable. I thought you had quit altogether. I remember how much you enjoyed it. What a good nurse you were … are.”

      “Yeah, I still love it. I’ll get back to it when Jake’s better.”

      He’d made no attempt to be a part of her life in the last eight years, and now he was interested in her personal life? Picking up a napkin on the table, she wadded it into a ball.

      Hoping to avoid further questions, she asked, “How about you? Where did you go … uh … for your surgery residency?” She’d almost said “after you left me alone in bed. Without saying a word.”

      He pulled his legs out from under the table, extended them across the floor, and crossed one ankle over the other.

      “Texas, then to Boston for a while. I took a position here a couple of years ago.”

      “You always said you wanted to be a heart surgeon. You didn’t change your mind.”

      “No. After hearing my first baby’s irregular heartbeat during my cardio rotation I’ve been set on it. It took me years to qualify, but it was the right move.” His gaze met hers. “But it meant making some tough decisions.”

      “So, is there a Mrs. McIntyre and any little McIntyres?”

      Hannah held her breath, waiting for his answer. A part of her wished he’d found no one special, while another part wanted him to be happy.

      “There’s no Mrs. McIntyre or children.”

      Hannah released the breath she’d held. Why’d she feel such a sense of relief? “Why’s that?”

      “A surgeon’s life doesn’t lend itself to a peaceful private life. Somehow my patients always take precedence over anything or anyone else.”

      A dark shadow crossed his face that she didn’t quite comprehend. Had he almost married? What had happened?

      “As the mother of one of your patients I’m grateful you make them a priority. I believe that would be a part of being a great doctor.” She took a sip of tea. “So, are you still seeing a nurse on every floor and in every department?” The question had a sting to it that she couldn’t help but add.

      He chuckled. “You don’t have a very high opinion of me, do you?”

      Hannah chose to let that question remain unanswered. “Did you know that the joke in the nurses’ station was that, when you had rotated to our floor, you’d asked for an alphabetical listing of all the single nurses and were working your way through the list?” “I did not.”

      “What? Know or ask for the list? Because you sure as heck worked your way through the staff. I watched you. With the last name of Watson, I had time to see you coming.” Heavens, she’d gotten what she’d deserved. She’d seen for herself what a player he had been.

      “Yeah, and you refused to play along. That was one of the many things I liked about you. You made me work to get your attention.”

      “I wasn’t interested in being another nurse you scratched off your list.”

      Scott’s hand covered his heart. “Ouch, that hurt.”

      She grinned. “That might have been too harsh.”

      He smiled, oozing Dr. McDreamy charm. “Same Hannah. You never cut me any slack. But as it turns out, believe it or not, being a surgeon doesn’t leave me as much free time as being a med student did. As for an answer, I hope I’ve grown up some.”

      “I know I have. I understand things I didn’t use to.” Like how it felt to be drawn to the bright fire that was his charisma and get burnt. He was speaking as if they’d shared nothing more than a casual meal all those years ago, instead of a friendship that had ended with a night filled with passion. She had repeated the same mistake with Jake’s dad.

      “I’m sorry, Hannah, for everything.” His beeper went off, demanding his attention. “I have to see about this. Thanks for the coffee.” He picked up his cup, crushed it and pitched it into the nearest trash can.

      Scott moved down the hall as if he was a man in command, a man on a mission. He’d been intense and focused

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