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“Come with me. I want to taste you again.”
“No.” I spin in his arms. “It’s my turn to taste you.”
Rob’s eyes drift closed, and he murmurs a silent thank you to the heavens. I jab him in the ribs and laugh when he winces.
Caught up in the moment, he sweeps me into his arms and carries me into the bedroom. I spend the rest of the day exploring him as thoroughly as he explores me.
There’s never been a more perfect day. Eat, sleep, fuck. With Rob, it’s heaven. I never want it to end.
But when Monday morning comes, my alarm wakes me and the bed is empty. Was it just a dream?
There’s a note on his pillow.
Marcy,
I left for work early. Didn’t want to wake you. Had to go home and change. Working doubles all week. I’ll call you when I have a free minute.
Love, Rob
I tuck the note into a book on my nightstand and manage to drag myself out of bed. My whole body burns with residual bliss at this recent adventure into sexual activity. I don’t know how many times we had sex, but I’m not complaining. My body, however, is having second thoughts.
In the shower, my muscles relax under the spray. The note plays in my mind. I wish he would have woken me, but I understand. We both have jobs and lives. And they’ve intersected. What do we do now? Where do we go from here?
Part of me hopes I didn’t fuck everything up by sleeping with Rob. I don’t regret it—not even a little bit—but what the hell happens next?
What do I want?
This hasn’t changed my mind on marriage. And Rob still deserves to have that option, should he desire a wife and a family. I’m just not sure it’s something I might want in the future. Although, the thought of living with Rob has its appeal. We’ve been in each other’s lives for so long, there’s nothing about him I don’t already know.
Then why the hell am I scared to death to tell him? To say the words?
What if he wants something totally different? I don’t want to lose whatever this is.
But I know we’ll have to talk it out at some point.
We’ll both be busy all week. Maybe it’ll give us both time to think things through. I just hope he doesn’t start having second thoughts.
I just hope I don’t start having second thoughts.
Chapter Sixteen
Rob
I haven’t spoken to Marcy in two days. Not because I don’t want to, but the ER has been chaos since Monday. Even Tabby has felt the brunt of my absence. Good thing Arthur and Kate returned from their honeymoon yesterday.
I spent the night at the hospital, curled up on a cot in one of the back rooms. We had two physicians call in this week, so I’m picking up the slack. I expected double shifts, but I didn’t expect to move into the hospital permanently.
Thank God for Summer and the other nurses in the unit. They’re more capable than some of the doctors on staff and give me a chance to breathe between cases. The stress of being on the floor has now overcome the adrenaline rush I used to get in my thirties. This shit is starting to take its toll on me. And now that Marcy and I are finally on the same page, a quiet life of office visits is starting to sound appealing. I’ve wasted too much time already; I’ll be damned if I waste any more.
In my small office, I leaf through the files on my desk. These cases need notes. I glance at the phone. Maybe I should call her. It’s two in the afternoon, and I’m pretty sure she’s at work. I have the evening off, so I’ll call her tonight when I’m home. Maybe we can grab some dinner.
Refocusing my wandering thoughts, I open the first file. The phone rings.
“Dr. Thompson.” I lean it against my shoulder and finish a note in the patient’s file.
“Rob, it’s Arthur. Am I interrupting?”
I toss the pen aside. “No. What do you need?”
