I turned around to leave the room, pausing when Ted spoke.
“You goin’ somewhere? You ain’t staying here to talk at me some more?” There was a tone of wistfulness in his voice . . . or maybe I was imagining it.
“I have one more patient to see, and then I’m leaving for the day. I’ve worked almost non-stop the past week, and I’ve been at the hospital more than I’ve been home. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Before he could protest or give me any guff, I left, making my way down the corridor toward Mrs. Dulinkski’s room. She’d been admitted yesterday for stomach issues related to her treatment.
“Mrs. Dulinkski?” I tapped on the door. “Is it okay if I come in?”
She glanced up at me from her bed. “Dr. Girard. I didn’t expect to see you today. That new nurse, the man one—he said you were leaving early.”
“I am,” I affirmed. “That’s why I’m dressed down.” I pointed to my shorts and T-shirt. “But I wanted to stop in quickly before I took off for the day.”
“Well, thanks.” She patted her stomach. “Not feeling so great.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I leaned one hand on the back of the chair. “And we’ll do everything we can to get you feeling better. But there’s something you could be doing to help yourself that you’re not. I stopped in to suggest you give it a try.”
She cocked her head, perplexed. “What’s that? I follow all your orders to a T.”
“I’m sure you do. However, I’m aware that Dr. Carson has been in here to see you more than once, and each time, she’s offered to help you work with your diet and suggest supplements that could improve your tolerance of the chemo, as well as help it work better.”
“Oh,her.” Mrs. Dulinkski waved her hand. “She’s that witch doctor.”
I lowered my voice. “Mrs. Dulinkski, Dr. Carson is a naturopath, and she has training and tools at her disposal that can make your life better and your treatment more effective. Now, if you don’t want both of those things, I don’t know why we’re bothering to work so hard to get you into remission again.”
Her mouth sagged. “Oh.”
“You think about it. Dr. Carson will be in tomorrow to check on you, I’m sure, because one of her best traits is her optimism, so even though you keep telling her to go away, she won’t give up on you. It’s up to you, of course, but if it were my decision, I’d listen to what she has to say this time.”
With a smile and a nod, I left the room. I wasn’t sure Mrs. Dulinkski was going to pay attention to my advice—she was a stubborn woman, after all—but I’d given her something to think about, regardless. That was all I could do.
I left the hospital and headed for my truck. I was off the clock now, and I had a date with a certain redhead who did, in fact, boast a killer rack and an excellent ass. Ted Girard wasn’t right about most things, but I wasn’t going to disagree with him there.
Emma had been a little vague about our date, but she’d insisted that I should come out to the cabin as soon as I was finished seeing Ted. The two of us hadn’t had much in the way of private time over this past week, unless it was napping together in my office. I wasn’t complaining—I loved spending time with her, no matter what—but today, it was just the two of us. Alone.
And with any luck, naked.
14
Emma
Everything was perfect in my cabin. I’d closed the curtains just enough to keep the light at a minimum. I had candles burning over almost every surface, and I was diffusing my favorite lavender oil through the air. Soft music played over my speakers, strategically placed around the cabin.
Deacon had texted about twenty minutes ago that he was leaving the hospital. I’d rushed to finish the last-minute touches and then carefully dressed in my special outfit: a sheer, flowy dress that hugged my boobs and just barely skimmed the middle of my thighs, under which I wore exactly nothing. No bra, no panties . . . just me, carefully groomed and lotioned for the activity I’d planned for us.
I heard Deacon’s truck pulling up along my gravel drive, and my stomach flipped over into a series of somersaults. I hoped he was going to like this, but I wasn’t sure. I was taking a risk.
I stood just behind the sofa, listening to his footsteps on the porch. The front door opened, and he stepped inside, his eyes immediately searching me out.
“Hey, babe. I couldn’t wait . . . uh, wow.” His gaze roamed over the living room. “You’ve really been busy, haven’t you? What’s going on?”
Squaring my shoulders, I offered him a smile. “Welcome, Dr. Girard, to your very first massage.”
“My . . . uh, Emma.” For quite possibly the first time in our acquaintance, Deacon looked alarmed and maybe even slightly afraid. “I told you, I don’t like other people rubbing me—I mean, unless it’s you. I’m sorry you went to all this trouble, but I don’t want a stranger touching me.”
I tilted my head and rolled my eyes. “Then you’re very lucky, because today,Iam your masseuse.”
“You’re . . . ohhhhhh.” Understanding gleamed in his eyes. “Okay, well, that’s an entirely different story. A much better one, in fact.” He grinned at me, taking in my attire for the first time. “And holy crap, baby, you look hot.”
