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Her eyes widened. “Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“No need to apologize. It was a long time ago.”
She gave him a soft smile. “I know from experience that time doesn’t heal all wounds.”
“What’s that?” he asked, looking over at the kitchen. “Are you cooking?”
“I’m playing with a new flavor.” She smiled shyly, as though embarrassed that she’d brought her work home. “Lemon and thyme vegan ice cream made with coconut milk. It sounds disgusting, but it tastes fantastic. You want to try some?”
His stomach gurgled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten all day. “Hit me with it.”
She put three scoops into the bowl and grabbed a spoon from the drawer, sliding it across the breakfast bar to him. His stomach cramped again as he lifted a spoonful into his mouth, and dear god, how good did that taste.
He scooped up another spoonful, then another, and within a minute the bowl was empty. “That’s fucking fantastic.”
Her eyes darted to Isla’s room, before looking at him again.
“Sorry, I mean that’s fantastic.”
She laughed. “Don’t worry. When she was little I dropped a plate on my foot and cursed so much she started copying me. Imagine trying to teach a two year old not to say the ‘f’ word. So now I keep it PG.”
“Understood.” His nod was serious. “If I promise not to swear again, can I have another bowl?”
She lifted the box of frozen ice cream toward him, and ran the scoop through the surface, her tank lifting up to reveal the merest sliver of skin.
His body froze as he imagined kissing her soft stomach.
Dear god, he really needed to get laid. Before he embarrassed himself and her.
His stomach growled loudly as she passed him the bowl, making her laugh. “Are you hungry?”
“I didn’t get a chance to eat.”
“I could make you something,” she offered. “Since Isla and I are part of the reason you were so busy.”
“It’s fine. I’ll grab something from the freezer. Or call for a pizza.”
“Did the ER get worse after we left?” she asked him, leaning on the counter, her chin propped on her open palm.
“We had an MVA come in. The patient was in a bad way.” He breathed out softly. “We lost her.”
“MVA?”
“Motor vehicle accident.”
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was gentle. She reached out to put her hand on his, and it made his chest do that weird thing again. He felt better and worse. Better, because saying it out loud somehow lessened the pressure in his brain. And worse, because all he wanted to do was pull her toward him and kiss the hell out of her.
Bury himself in her until he forgot what happened in the hospital today. He wanted to touch her, to taste her, to trace lines with his lips from that enticing dip at the bottom of her throat, down her chest, her abdomen, to where she was the very softest she could be.
“Can I do anything?” she asked, and he realized how silent he’d been. He hoped to hell she couldn’t read his mind.
Rich shook his head. “I’ll be okay. I just hate losing a patient, you know?”
She nodded. “I can get that.” The kindness in her eyes told him she really could. And it helped, it did.
Even if half his brain was thinking about her in completely the wrong way. It was the loss that made him feel that way. The need to feel alive again, to forget the past and only be in the present.
Nothing did that the way sex could.
