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When the paramedics rushed the man in, a team was ready in the emergency room to take over trying to save the man’s life.
Abby stayed busy for the rest of her shift, working straight through her break, grateful for the mental reprieve from her personal life due to the intensity of their patients’ needs.
Definitely meeting Danielle’s definition of brooding, Dirk never said another word outside anything to do with their patients. However, when he realized she’d not taken a break, not eaten, he’d disappeared and come back with a cup of yogurt, bottled water and an apple, thrust them toward her and walked away without uttering a single word.
His expression hadn’t been a pleased one. Actually, he’d looked irritated.
Part of her had wanted to toss the items at the back of his retreating, arrogant head. He deserved a good wake-up thwack. How dared he be so high-handed? Just because she was pregnant it did not give him the right to dictate what she should and shouldn’t do. He’d said he just wanted to be friends, giving up any potential right to have a say in her life.
She was her own woman, could do this on her own, would forge a good life for her and her baby.
Abby desperately clung to that thought as a shield against the hurt Dirk’s rejection had caused.
Clung to her mounting anger at his hot-cold attitude to prevent more pain from seeping through and jabbing at her vulnerable heart.
CHAPTER NINE
IF ABBY didn’t open her door soon, Dirk was going to jemmy the lock. Or break down the door.
Was this his fourth round of knocks or his fifth?
Where was she?
Finally, he heard a scratching at the other side of the door. At least Mistletoe was up and about. Abby should be, too. If she’d gone home and gone to bed, she’d have had a good eight hours.
Was she okay? She’d looked so tired and pale when she’d left the hospital and hadn’t acted like her normal self. He’d been tied up with a patient when she’d clocked out, hadn’t been able to believe she’d left without telling him she was going.
As if she was truly angry with him. He’d have understood anger on the day they’d found out she was pregnant, would have understood if she’d beat his chest with her fists, but last night? Hell, he’d made a conscious effort to take care of her, to let her know he planned to be there for her and their baby even if the mere thought gave him hives. Didn’t she understand how difficult this was for him? How hard he was trying?
The lock clicked, and the door swung open. Abby squinted, putting her hand up to block the fading sunlight filtering onto the porch. “Dirk? What are you doing here?”
“You
look awful.”
Standing in her doorway wearing baggy sweats, her hair wild, dark shadows bruising her eyes, Abby did look awful. Like she hadn’t gone to bed after leaving work.
“Nice to see you, too,” she mumbled. Her cat rubbing against her leg, meowing, she moved aside for Dirk to enter.
Carrying a bag of groceries he’d brought because he seriously doubted she was taking care of herself, he stepped into her foyer. He eyed her more closely, taking in the pallor of her skin, the redness in her eyes. “Did you volunteer somewhere after work this morning?”
She shut her front door, turned to face him. “You’re not my boss. Not outside the emergency room. If I want to volunteer somewhere, I can.”
“Which means you did.” He let out an exasperated sigh, assessing her like a bug under a magnifying glass. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have gone with you.”
“Have you considered that maybe I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to go?” She yawned, stretched her arms over her head, raising the shapeless sweat shirt up to expose a tiny sliver of ivory skin.
“No, I haven’t considered that. Why wouldn’t you want my help?” Forcing his gaze away from that glimpse of flesh, Dirk swallowed, shifted the groceries in his arms. How could he be looking at her one minute, thinking how tired she looked and wanting to throttle her for not taking better care of herself and the next be fighting the desire to pull that sweatshirt over her head to expose a whole lot more of her delectable body?
“Go away, Dirk,” she continued, gratefully oblivious to the effect her stretch had had on his body and mind.
“No.” After a few minutes of lying in his bed, thinking about Abby and her uncharacteristic snippiness, he had crashed into a dreamless sleep and awakened with only one thought. Seeing Abby, making sure she was okay. “You need someone to look after you.”
“I can look after myself just fine.” Her lower lip puckered in an almost pout.
His gaze zeroed in on that full bottom lip. He wanted to kiss her. To take her in his arms and kiss her until she sighed in contentment.
“Since when?” Dirk fought wincing at how brusque his tone was. Just because he was fighting sexual awareness he shouldn’t be feeling when she looked exhausted, it didn’t mean she’d understand that’s what was causing his irritation. What was it about the woman that drove him so physically crazy? Taking a deep breath, he tried again in a calmer tone. “You pulled an exhausting twelve-hour shift, Abby. What was so important that you couldn’t have rested first? Something to do with Christmas again?”
