“No, it just comes naturally to me,” she sassed back. “And this isn’t to piss you off, Deacon. This is part of my job, and if you maybe stop and think about it for half a second, you might see that I’m really trying to help you. To take some of the burden from your shoulders.” She curled her legs under her, re-settling on the sofa like a chicken getting comfortable on her nest. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Maybe that’s why I don’t want you anywhere near him. Because I don’t need your help with Ted. He’s my responsibility. No one else on the floor should have to deal with his particular brand of shit.”
“And yet, we all will.” Emma lifted her shoulders. “If you believe there’s one soul on our team who’s not going to pull his or her weight when it comes to your father, Deacon, then shame on you. We work together. It doesn’t matter who the patient is or how much of a pain in our ass he is—we do our damn jobs. So you should just shut up and get out of our way, because honey, it’s going to happen no matter what you say or do.” She sat back, cast me a wide, phony smile, and treated herself to another swallow of her drink.
I sat for the space of several heartbeats, staring at her. Emma was beautiful, and I’d known that from the first minute I’d seen her. Even as we’d been arguing—because yes, of course, within moments of meeting we’d been embroiled in a disagreement—I’d noted that she was gorgeous. Her coloring was irresistible, with that rich auburn hair, the deep blue eyes, and the skin that had taken on a slightly sun-kissed glow since she’d been living down here. And her body was an invitation to regular sinning, at least from my perspective. She had perfect curves and toned limbs, and her clothes always accented those features without flaunting them.
But it wasn’t the structure of her bones or the color of her hair or eyes that made Emma Carson as addictive as crack for me. No, it was the way her eyes sparkled, the tilt of her head, the bearing of her shoulders and neck. She was comfortable in her own skin, and her confidence and self-assurance were what made her so alluring. Emma’s very presence drew me in, daring me to cross the room, pull her to her feet, and then carry her to my bedroom, kissing her madly as we went.
All of my memories of the times we’d spent together here rolled over me like an avalanche. The wall just behind Emma was where I’d spread her legs and tasted her for the first time. I could almost hear the way her voice had begged me not to stop as she’d careened madly toward her peak. The sofa where she sat now . . . I’d bent her over it one night and taken her from behind, filling my hands with her generous tits, growling out my own desire along with her cries of passion.
I rose to my feet abruptly. “I need another drink.”
Emma drained her glass and rattled the ice. “I wouldn’t say no to a refill, either.”
I was about to turn back to retrieve her empty glass, but she’d gotten to her feet, too, and was following me across the room. I could feel the heat radiating from her body as I poured our drinks. As much as I tried to ignore her effect on me, she was slowly and steadily destroying my paltry defenses.
“Do you want anything to eat?” I almost babbled the question, just out of the need to say something that didn’t sound sexual. And yet, even that . . .
Emma stood next to me, her gaze dipping down to below my waist before she raised her eyes to me. The molten softness of her lips was nearly my undoing.
Slowly, she shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m okay.”
We both returned to our seats, keeping our distance as if by taciturn agreement. Once Emma was curled in the corner of the sofa again, her drink in her hand, she cleared her throat.
“Have you told Jimmy and Anna about Ted being back in town?”
I grimaced. That was a bucket of cold water thrown on my achingly hard dick. “I just did today. That’s why I left the hospital early.” I propped my bare feet on the coffee table. “I didn’t want to say anything until I had all the information. There wasn’t any sense in getting them upset if it turned out that Ted had COPD or something else other than cancer. And then there was the very real possibility that he’d cut out and skip town sooner than later. Again, there wasn’t any point in telling them he’d been here if he was gone already.”
“But he stayed,” Emma pointed out, ever the voice of calm reason. “And he does have small cell lung cancer.”
“Right.” I nodded. “And he’s agreed to let me treat it—or at least, he’s agreed to let me try. I have a feeling the first round of chemo might change his mind. Ted’s not exactly the finest example of stalwart courage, in case you haven’t noticed. He’s not tolerant of discomfort, no matter what form that takes.”
“But you’re going to try.” Emma spoke softly, holding her drink to her lips. “Even after everything he’s done or hasn’t done, even though you find him contemptible, you’re going to do your best to extend his life, if not save it.”
“Lung cancer’s incurable,” I reminded her. “I’m not going to save his life. But yes, I’ll do what I can to prolong it and keep him comfortable while we do that.”
When she only smiled at me in that way that made me feel like the most powerful man in the world, I shook my head. “I’m not doing this out of any misguided expectation that Ted is going to realize the error of his ways and return to the bosom of his family, Emma. Don’t give me credit for being nobler than I am. No, I’m only doing the bare minimum because I’m a doctor, and I took a vow. He’s a patient. That’s the only way I can look at this and . . .” I rubbed one hand over my face. “Manage to retain a little bit of sanity.”
“I understand. I still think you’re pretty wonderful, Deacon, and no amount of bad-mouthing yourself is going to change that.”
My eyes darted to her face again, startled by what she’d said, hoping against hope to see some sign of . . . what? Validation? Desire? Love? But she was staring down into her glass as she continued. “What did Jimmy and Anna say? Are they okay?”
“Yeah.” I let my head fall against the back of the couch again. “They were . . . resigned. Gram said they’d always suspected he’d end up sick somewhere, and she was grateful he’d made his way back here. But neither of them expects him to change, either. I think they’ll come to visit him at the hospital, because he’s their son and it’s what you do, but they’re not killing the fatted calf or getting a room ready for him back at the farm.” I huffed a short, mirthless bark of laughter. “Pop pulled me aside before I left and warned me not to be surprised if Ted took off without warning. I told him I’d be more shocked if he didn’t do that.”
“Poor Anna and Jimmy. They’ve been through so much with him. It’s sad. They’re two of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. How could they have a son like Ted?”
“It’s the mystery of the ages,” I agreed. “I guess it’s a matter of nature versus nurture, right? Gram has told me before that she thinks she made some mistakes with Ted—they gave him too much freedom, or they expected too much of him on the farm—but in the end, we all agree that it doesn’t matter. Ted was going to do his own thing, no matter what.” I played with a thread on the hem of my T-shirt. “For me, I just wonder what my mom saw in him. Everyone who knew her always says she was smart and kind and friendly. Before she started dating Ted, she’d gotten a scholarship to go to college up north, but she gave it up to stay with him. What a waste.” I slammed down the rest of my whiskey.
The room was beginning to grow a little fuzzy. Not bad, but the harsh realities of the day didn’t hurt quite as much as they had earlier. Was that the booze or Emma? I wasn’t certain.
Emma finished her drink, too. “Not a waste at all, because if she’d taken that scholarship, you wouldn’t be here. And I know I’m not the only one who’s grateful that you are.” She leaned forward to set her empty glass on the table and nearly toppled from the sofa.
“Believe me, Emma, I’m not worth my mother’s life.” Bitterness rang out from my words. “Anything I could do for the rest of my days wouldn’t change that.”
“I think you’re wrong.” She set her jaw firmly.
“Then I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.” I stood up. “Another drink?”
