AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I push to stand. “Give me ten minutes to check on Dr. Carnbet’s wife, and then I’m taking you home.”
“You don’t have to do that.” She stands too. “I can get home on my own.”
“We’re not going to your apartment, lamb,” I correct her. “I’m taking you home with me.”
“Humor me.”
Eloise shakes her head. “I’m not letting you take my blood pressure, Gaines.”
“What if I strip?” I try to strike a bargain. “Have you ever had your blood pressure taken by a nude doctor?”
“You do not want me to answer that.”
For fuck’s sake.
I can’t tell if she’s joking or not, so I chuckle, hoping she joins in. She doesn’t.
“Eloise?”
Her hands drop to her hips as she surveys the interior of my apartment. I’m proud of the fact that I own it, but beyond that it’s a barren space that has only ever functioned as a cocoon of sorts for me.
It’s the barrier between my job and me. I seek solace here. I don’t fuck here. I rarely eat here, but I always sleep here.
“Yes,” she answers. “Did you have another question, Dr. Morgan?”
I drop the bags in my hands on the couch, and go to where she’s still standing in the foyer of my apartment. I curl my index fingers through two of the loops on her jeans so I can tug her closer.
A smile starts on her lips but she stops it.
“Kiss me,” I say in a hoarse tone.
She greedily accepts that challenge. Cupping her hands around my face she gifts me with a slow, sensual kiss.
I swear to fuck that is all the fuel I need to get through my days.
“I’m fine,” she insists. “You can do that magic trick Irene’s husband did and take my pulse when I’m not aware.”
“He’s going to fucking love it when I tell him that you refer to him as Irene’s husband.”
“That’s who he is,” she says with a soft smile. “He told me it’s his full-time job and he loves it.”
“He loves her.”
“Will she be all right?” Concern taints her tone. “I know you can’t share personal information, but she’ll survive, right?”
“She will,” I say that with confidence, since what brought Irene to the ED tonight was remedied with a subtle change to one of her heart medications.
Her gaze trails over my face. “How long have they been married?”
The answer is an easy one since I attended their fiftieth wedding anniversary dinner six months ago. “A little over fifty years.”
I expect that will bring her joy, but her lips dip into a frown. “That’s a very long time. They must have gone through a lot together.”
“They love each other.”
She closes her eyes briefly. “I’d like to help you cook.”
“I’m pouring takeout soup into bowls and cutting up fruit.” I keep her in place. “I think I can handle that.”
