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She kept her tone even, but she was upset. She’d invited him to stay the day with her and he’d left her high and dry, told her he just wanted to be friends.
Idiot.
Dirk grabbed the corner of the sheet closest to where he stood and spread the material out, eliciting a surprised look from her. “You have a lot of Christmas traditions, don’t you, Abby?”
“Yes.” Taking a deep breath, she tucked the clean sheet in around the hospital bed. “Christmas traditions are important to me.” She straightened, held his gaze then sighed. “Before you give me a lecture on all the woes of the holidays, let me just warn you that I’m a little cranky so you might not want to do that. Not tonight.”
Dirk took a step back. Abby was cranky? Because of him. Because he’d refused to go with her. Because he’d said he just wanted to be friends.
“I’m sorry, Abby.”
She snorted, rolling her eyes. “It’s not that.”
“Then what? Is Macy’s all sold out of that gift you just have to buy still?” He tried to keep his tone light, to make a joke in the hope some of the usual sparkle would return to her eyes, but when he spoke of anything to do with Christmas a brittle edge always seemed to be present.
“Ha-ha. Too funny.” Rather than sparkle, she rolled her eyes again. “For the record, I finished my shopping weeks ago.”
She was probably one of those women who started next year’s shopping the day after Christmas. That seemed like the kind of thing Abby would do.
“If you must know,” she continued, smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle on the expertly made bed, “I haven’t felt well.”
Her hand popped over her mouth as if she hadn’t meant to say that out loud, as if she regretted that she had.
“What’s wrong?” All desire to keep the conversation light vanishing, Dirk studied her. She didn’t look ill. She looked…beautiful, almost ethereal, like the delicate angel on top of a Christmas tree.
“Don’t look at me like that. I shouldn’t have said anything,” she huffed, but when he only stared, waiting for her to elaborate, she continued. “I’m fine. Really. Just a virus.”
But she didn’t meet his eyes and he placed his hand on her forehead.
“I don’t have a temperature.” She gave an exasperated sigh.
“Tell me what’s going on. I’m a doctor, remember?” Again, he strove to keep his tone light, but her evasiveness worried him. The thought of her being sick worried him. “Maybe I can help.”
He wanted to help. As a doctor to a patient, he told himself, even as he acknowledged his concern went beyond that of doctor-patient. As a friend to another friend, he corrected, but even that didn’t cover the protective feelings the idea of Abby being ill spurred within him.
“Fine. I’ll tell you, but just remember you asked for this.” She picked at the pristine bedding, rubbing her fingernail over the white material. “I’ve been feeling tired. A
little nauseated at times to where my appetite just isn’t what it should be. I threw up this morning, but that’s because I crie—” She paused again, flushing.
She must have spent as restless a day in bed as he had. Guilt hit him. He didn’t want Abby to suffer because of him. He’d wanted to keep from hurting her, but he’d waited too late.
“You should have taken sick leave tonight.”
“Why? Nursing staff are almost always shorthanded as is.” She frowned. “Besides, it’s nothing much, really. I don’t feel myself, but that’s my own fault, isn’t it?” Glancing up at him, her weak smile almost knocked him to his knees. “I do realize that I shouldn’t have read so much into you asking me to the Christmas party, Dirk.”
“I’m sorry I gave you the impression we could be more than friends.” He wanted more than friendship. He wanted to be her lover. Without strings. Without having to worry about hurting her.
She lifted a shoulder in a mock shrug. “I should have known better.”
“Why should you have known better, Abby? I was sending mixed signals.” Saying one thing, wanting another. Why was he admitting this to her? Wasn’t he only sending more mixed signals by doing so?
“Were you?” Her brow lifted. “I hadn’t noticed.”
The way she said it, so sarcastic, bugged Dirk. Abby was happy, bubbly even. Not today. Nothing about this conversation felt right. Sure, he’d expected tonight to be awkward, but they’d done awkward before. Had done awkward for two months with only a break when he’d agreed to be Santa. This went beyond that.
Something was wrong with Abby.
He thought of the long hours she worked, of all the volunteer work he knew she did. No doubt she was spending the time she should be sleeping baking Christmas candies.
