Medical Romance June 2016 Books 1-6. Lynne Marshall
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“So you’ll probably go back there when you feel better?” Why did this question, and her possible answer, make him feel both relief and dread? He clenched his jaw, something he’d started doing again since Carey had moved in.
She grimaced. “I can’t. I’ll have to quit at some point, but for now I’m using the sick leave and vacation time I’ve saved up and, I hope you don’t mind, I gave them your address so they could mail my next check to me here.”
“Remember. Mi casa es tuya.” He took another drag on his longneck, meaning every word in the entire extent of his Spanish speaking, but covering for the load of mixed-up feelings that kept dropping into his lap. What was it about this girl that made him feel so damn uncomfortable?
His practiced reply got a relieved smile out of her, and he allowed himself to enjoy how her eyes slanted upward whenever she did. It was dangerous to notice things like that and, really, what was the point? But having the beer had loosened him up and he snuck more looks than usual at her during dinner. “The clinic is always looking for good nurses. What’s your specialty?”
“I work, or I should say worked, in a medical-surgical unit. I loved it, too.”
“See...” he pointed her way “...that would fit right in. When you feel better, maybe you should look into it. I can talk to James about it if you’d like.” Yeah, keep these interactions all about helping her, and maybe she’ll skip the part about asking you about yourself.
“James?”
“Dr. Rothsberg.”
“First I have to get my RN license reissued from Illinois since it was stolen along with everything else.”
So maybe she did have plans to stay here and seek employment. Now he could get confused again and try to ignore that flicker of hope he’d kept feeling since she’d walked into his life. He ground his molars. “Would your license be accepted in California?”
“I did some research on the bus ride out and I’ll have to apply here in California. That’ll take some time, I suspect.”
“Well, I’m working days tomorrow, so you can spend the whole day using my computer and phone and maybe start straightening out everything you need to.”
She nodded. “I do have some people I owe a call.” Deep in thought, she probably went straight to the gazillion things she’d have to do to re-create herself and begin a new life for her and her baby in a new state. He wouldn’t want to be in her shoes, and wished he could somehow help even more. Would that go beyond his promise to watch over her?
At least the social worker and the police department had started the ball rolling on a few things. But, man, what a mess she had to clean up, especially since she hadn’t wanted her family notified of her whereabouts. Why was that?
Joe wanted to ask her about her living situation back home, but suspected she’d shut down on him like a trapdoor if he did this soon, so he tucked those questions into his “bring up later” file. With an ironic inward laugh, he supposed they had a lot in common, not wanting to bring up the past and all. “You feel like watching a little TV?” He figured she could use something to distract her from all the things she’d have to tackle tomorrow.
“I’d like that but only after you let me clean up from dinner.”
“Only if you’ll let me help.” Hell, could they get any more polite?
She smiled. “So after we do the dishes, what would you like to watch?”
“You choose.” Yeah, he’d let his guest make all the decisions tonight. It was the right thing to do.
“I like that show about zombies.”
“Seriously?” He never would have pegged her as a horror fan. “It’s my favorite, too, but I didn’t think it would be good for your bambino.”
“Ha,” she said, picking up the dishes from the bench table on the outdoor deck. “After what this little one has been through already, a pretend TV show should be a walk in the park.” She glanced down at her stomach while heading inside and toward the kitchen. “Isn’t that right, sweetie pie.”
There he went grinding his molars again. He followed her in and watched her put the dishes on the counter and unconsciously pat her abdomen then smile. That simple act sent a flurry of quick memories about Angela and how excited they’d once been when she’d first found out she’d gotten pregnant. They’d been about to give up trying since it had been over a year, had even had fertility tests done. They’d rationalized that because they were both paramedics and under a lot of stress, and he worked extended hours trying to make a good impression with Dr. Rothsberg, that was the reason she’d been unable to get pregnant.
So they’d taken a quickie vacation. Then one day, wham, she magically announced she was expecting. Joe had practically jumped over the moon that night, he’d been so happy. They’d finally start their own version of a big happy family. Since Angela’s body had gotten the hang of getting pregnant, he’d planned to talk her into having a few more kids after this one. He’d walked on air for a couple of months...until his fertility report had dropped into the mailbox. Late. Very, very late.
What a fool he’d been.
Trying to give his overworked jaw a break, Joe went to town scrubbing the grill from the barbecue as if it was a matter of life and death. By the time they’d finished with the cleanup, he didn’t know about Carey any more, but he definitely needed the distraction of some mindless TV viewing.
She sat on the small couch, passing him along the way, and he caught the scent of her shampoo again. It was a fresh, fruity summer kind of smell with a touch of coconut, which when he’d bought it for her had never planned for it to be a minor form of torture.
Mixed up about his feelings for the smart and easygoing nurse from Illinois, he intentionally sat on the chair opposite the couch, not ready to get too close to her again tonight. It brought up too many bad memories, and he so did not want to go there. There was only so much boxing a guy could do in a day. Torture sounded better than reliving his failed marriage. He clicked on the TV right on time for the show they both liked to escape to. If zombies couldn’t make him forget how attracted he was to the lovely stranger living in his house, nothing could.
* * *
Carey put her head on the pillow of the surprisingly comfortable guest bed, thinking it was the first time she could remember feeling safe in ages. Things had gotten super-tense living with Ross those last few weeks, and, talk about the worst timing in the world, she’d gotten pregnant right around the time she’d known she had to leave him.
She didn’t want to think about that now, because it would keep her awake, and she was really tired. It’d felt so normal and relaxing to sit and watch TV with Joe. He’d made the best barbecue chicken she’d ever eaten and she’d made a pig out of herself over the baked potato with all the toppings, but she chalked it up to his making her feel so welcome. The only problem was she couldn’t get the vision of him in his boxing shorts, working out with the punchbag, out of her mind. Wow, his lean body had showcased every muscle in his arms and across his back as he’d punched. His movements had been fluid and nothing short of perfection. Not to mention his washboard stomach and powerful legs.