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A Surgeon to Heal Her Heart Page 2
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“I’ve time to spare.”
“That makes one of us.” She seriously doubted he had much time to spare, either.
His dark brow arched. “You’re too busy to go to dinner with me tonight?”
“Absolutely.” She took off toward her patient’s room, but he stayed in step beside her.
“Tomorrow night?”
“Busy.”
Her answer seemed to waylay him for a few seconds, but then, still beside her, he asked, “Surely you make time to eat, Carly? I’ll take you to the restaurant of your choice and promise to have you home at a decent hour.” He waggled his brows and gave another crooked smile. “Unless you want me to keep you out past bedtime, that is.”
Oh, my. Not going to happen... But, oh, my, oh, my, oh, my.
She ate in quick snatches after getting home, usually soup or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich while Joyce filled her in on the day’s events.
Carly liked uneventful days.
Days in which her mother didn’t have any angry outbursts or falls or screams of pain or significant declines in her failing health. It had been so long since Carly had eaten out at a restaurant that she didn’t have a favorite. Money was tight. Eating out was expensive. There would be time for such luxuries later, after her mother’s life succumbed to her illness.
Just as there would be time for relationships. For real relationships and smiles and going to restaurants with handsome men.
The odds of a man as fabulous as Stone ever asking her to dinner again was next to nil, but, even so, dinner dates, or staying out past bedtime, had to wait.
Carly prayed that would be many years down the road. Those snatches of good spells with her mother were worth everything. They were getting further and further in between, but on a day of clarity Carly’s heart filled with enough joy to tide her over until the next brief glimpse.
Thoughts of her mother, of the fact she wasn’t free to date, that to pretend otherwise with Stone was wrong, made a new wave of guilt hit her. She’d been wrong to ever let things get to this point, but it was too late to undo that now. Other than to put an abrupt stop to his interest.
As difficult as it was going to be, she had to cut all ties with Stone.
“I eat,” she admitted, not that that was in question. She stopped mid-hallway to glare in as much annoyance at him as she could muster. “But not with strangers.”
“I’m not a stranger,” he clarified, not seeming fazed by her glare.
No wonder. It wasn’t easy to glare at a gorgeous man smiling and trying to convince you to go to dinner. Maybe he could see right through her, could see that everything female inside her responded to him. Maybe he saw how much she longed for a different set of life circumstances that would mean she could have her mother and a relationship. No matter. That wasn’t the life she’d been given and she wouldn’t bemoan things she had no control over.
“And, we have eaten together,” he reminded her, his grin full of charm. “In the break room at lunch when I’m lucky enough to catch you there. Plus, we’ve been working together for almost a month. We are not strangers.”
He made a valid argument, but none of which made any impact on why she couldn’t go to dinner.
“A whole month since you came to work at Memphis Memorial? Time does fly.” To make her point, she glanced at her watch, then gave him the sternest expression she could muster. “My patient is due his medication and I am going to administer it now. Thank you for the invitation, but my answer is no and won’t change.” She met his gaze. “I’m sorry if I ever gave you reason to think otherwise.”
He looked ready to say something more, but didn’t attempt to stop her when she moved past him to hightail her way down the hospital-floor hallway.
No matter. She could feel his gaze as she hurried to escape into her patient’s room and away from the most disconcerting man she’d ever met.
Tony had sure never gotten her worked up the way Stone had in the month she’d known him.
One month, four days. That was how long Stone had been at Memphis Memorial.
Not that she was counting.
She shouldn’t be aware the man existed outside that he was a doctor at the hospital where she worked.
But she was aware.
Too aware.
With that thought she bit the inside of her lower lip and fought the urge to cry a little. A lot. No matter.
She had a good life, had her mother, anything beyond that would have to wait for a day she prayed never came.
* * *
Stone Parker wasn’t sure how he’d misread what was happening between him and Carly Evans.
He’d thought they shared a connection, that she felt the spark he felt when he looked at her.
Today was the most direct conversation they’d had about what was happening, but he’d never tried to hide his interest, and he’d thought it was reciprocated. From the moment he’d met her, he’d gone out of his way to bump into her. She’d been pleasant. Cheerful. Smiling a lot. Had often had a sassy rebuttal to things he’d say. Had she just been being friendly? Polite?
After hearing her comment today, he had to wonder.
With her soulful brown eyes that held so much emotion, her silky chestnut hair she kept pulled up in a ponytail, pouty full lips, and almost fragile features, she’d caught his attention his first day at the hospital.
And held it.
He enjoyed their conversations, enjoyed sitting with her in the break room while she grabbed a quick lunch.
Although he’d yet to ask her out due to finishing up his move, settling into his new job and home, working three of the four weekends he’d been in Memphis and having to go home the previous weekend for his parents’ anniversary, he’d planned to see if she was free for the upcoming weekend.
Not once had he questioned whether or not she’d say yes. He’d swear she was interested, that she enjoyed their light, fun conversations as much as he did.
Just the previous day, he’d asked her friend Rosalyn about her. Surprisingly, Rosalyn hadn’t been able to tell him much about Carly’s personal life. They’d worked together for five years, Carly didn’t attend any of the hospital’s social functions, rarely talked about family and never about anyone special.
None of their other co-workers had been able to tell him anything more.
He was a young healthy man who’d been used to an active social life since his divorce. Staying busy, active, was how he’d kept sane after Stephanie had left him. The fact his social life had been on hiatus from the move and job change was probably why he got so twisted up inside when he looked at Carly.
Although thinner than his usual taste, she was a beautiful woman, had a great sense of humor, and a quick smile.
When she smiled, his breath caught.
Rosalyn was right.
He had the hots for Carly.
Although he’d been in several relationships since his divorce, they’d all been light, fun, about mutual pleasure. From the moment he’d met her, Carly had tugged at something deep that made him question the meaningless relationships he moved in and out of with the ease of a broken heart that didn’t allow anything more.
Memories of the past hit him, freezing him in place and making him question his interest in Carly.
Was she playing hard to get? Had he misread her? Or was there something more going on?
CHAPTER TWO
“SORRY I TOOK so long to bring your medicine,” Carly apologized to the elderly man lying in the hospital bed.
Although partially dozed off, he wore a thick pair of glasses, along with oxygen tubing and a nasal cannula. He opened his eyes and stared in her direction, blankly at first, then with vague recognition.
Carly was used to that reaction. Wasn’t it one she saw with increasing frequency from her mother?
Just
as she did at home, Carly pasted on her brightest smile.
“I don’t need medicine anyway,” the man muttered grumpily and without making eye contact.
“Your medicine helps keep your heart in rhythm and will help get you out of this place and back home soon.”
The man snorted. “I don’t have a home.”
Carly had been taking care of Mr. Taylor for three days, knew his personal history, and understood his frustrations that his family felt he could no longer live alone. With forgetting to eat and frequent falls, he couldn’t.
“That’s not what your daughter told me when she was visiting yesterday,” Carly reminded him.
“She lied.”
Carly handed him the plastic cup that held his pills. “You don’t live with her?”
He thought a moment, then shook his head. He didn’t say more, just took the medications.
“Is there anything else I can get you, Mr. Taylor?”
“A new body.”
Carly smiled. She’d heard that many times over the five years she’d been a nurse.
“I wish I could,” she admitted. She wished she could do a lot of things when it came to making someone well.
Especially with her mother’s Parkinson’s and dementia.
What she wouldn’t do for there to be a cure to such horrific diseases that robbed one of their mind and body.
She checked his vitals, made sure his nurse-call button was within his reach, and left his room to check on another patient.
Mrs. Kim. A lovely little lady who’d had a surgically excised abscess on her chest. Due to the amount of infection and her weakened system, she’d been admitted for a few days for intravenous antibiotics to make sure the infection was knocked and to build up her strength.
Mrs. Kim’s family had been taking turns staying during the evenings and night, but during the daytime her family worked and the woman was usually in her room alone.
Carly popped in frequently to check on her.
Most of the time the pleasant woman would be enthralled in whichever game show she was currently watching, but the vision that met Carly’s eyes had her pausing in the doorway.
Looking distraught, Mrs. Kim was crying. Stone was at her bedside, holding her hand, offering comfort. Carly couldn’t make out his exact words, but she could feel their soothing balm.
Could feel her own eyes watering in empathy at Mrs. Kim’s distress.
Mrs. Kim grasped his hand in hers and was voicing her frustration over the wound that refused to heal in her chest, over how it was keeping her from her very busy life, and how she missed her two cats.
Whatever he said, Mrs. Kim weepily smiled, pulled his hand to her lips and smacked a kiss there.
“Thank you.”
She said more, but Carly couldn’t make out the words, just saw the woman’s lips move and then Stone throw his head back and laugh.
A real laugh. One that reverberated through Carly. Made her long to share such a laugh with him.
How long had it been since she’d laughed like that? Carefree through and through? With all her worries set aside in the joy of the moment?
Since she’d felt any real, all-the-way-to-her-soul sense of joy?
No, that wasn’t fair. She was happy, appreciative that she had her mother to go home to every day. It was what she wanted, what she’d choose given the choice. Every day was a blessing and to be cherished.
She did cherish life. She was not just going through the motions.
Thinking she’d come back later to check on Mrs. Kim, she turned to go, but the movement caught Stone’s eye.
“Carly?”
Pasting a smile on her face, she stepped into the hospital room.
Ignoring Stone, she met her patient’s gaze. “Hello, Mrs. Kim. I wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything. I see you’re in good hands.”
Mrs. Kim’s hand was locked between Stone’s and the woman smiled. “Very.”
“Is there anything you need?” She checked the woman’s IV settings and vitals. Feeling Stone’s gaze, she did her best to breathe normally, to function normally, and not make some total klutz move.
“Just to get better so I can go home.”
“We’re working on it,” she promised, then wondered if she should have deferred to Stone.
She’d never gotten the impression he was one of those high-ego docs, but she’d only known him a month.
One month, four days.
Okay, so she was counting.
He didn’t seem to mind her having answered for him. Possibly because he was too busy watching Carly’s every move. As a doctor concerned about what his patient’s nurse was doing? Maybe, but his expression was more inquisitive, as if he was trying to figure out what made her tick.
Good luck with that, she thought.
Actually, she was pretty dull. She worked and she took care of her mother. There wasn’t time for anything more.
Just ask her ex-boyfriend.
“I’ll be back in a little while to check on you,” Carly promised, heading out the door.
When she reached for the handle, she couldn’t resist glancing back. Her gaze collided with brilliant green.
His gaze holding hers, Stone smiled.
Something kicked in her chest.
Hard.
It might have been her heart skipping a beat or giving the strongest one in its twenty-seven-year history. Either way, she felt a little dizzy.
Carly’s lips parted, because she should say something, right? The man moved her in ways she’d forgotten she could be moved.
Or had never known she could be moved.
But nothing came out of her mouth and she scurried out of the room, before she did something crazy.
Like admit that the problem with Stone was that he made her long to explore all the emotions sparking to life inside her.
But she wasn’t free.
She needed to forget Stone.
Which was easier said than done since she saw the hospital’s prized new surgeon every day she worked and every time she closed her eyes.
* * *
Stone wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t sure why Carly had said no to going to dinner with him, but she was as interested in him as he was her.
Desire had flashed in those eyes of hers.
Desire, longing, and so much more.
Which left him in a quandary.
He’d been rejected before, didn’t have any desire to set himself up for another woman to walk away from him. But he needed to know why she’d said no when her eyes were begging him to sweep her off her feet.
* * *
“Hello,” Carly called as she walked into her quiet house. The same house she’d grown up in. The same house she’d probably live in the rest of her life. “I’m home!”
She was. The small once white, but now faded, house was home, was where her heart and lots of wonderful memories were. Memories of better times when her mother had been well, full of spunk and energy, sharp-witted and capable of doing anything she wanted.
But those days were long gone.
For once Carly had gotten off work on time so hopefully her mother would still be awake, would hopefully be clear-minded, and not in the fog her memory often got enveloped by.
Joyce, her mother’s nurse, came around the hallway corner and into the living room. “Busy day?”
Carly smiled at the sixty-something woman with gray hair she kept cut short and in loose, no-nonsense curls. A pair of thin gold-rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of her nose. She wore a Rolling Stones T-shirt with a big tongue on it and baggy, faded, rolled-up jeans that exposed slim ankles and flat white sandals.
Carly smiled. She and Joyce had an agreement the nurse wouldn’t wear a uniform. She wanted her mother to feel she had a friend, not a medical professiona
l. Joyce appreciated not having to don scrubs any more, too, as she’d done so for almost forty years prior to “retiring”.
“They all are,” Carly said, putting her handbag on the small dining table in one corner of the room. “But that’s okay. I like to be busy.”
“Which is a good thing because goodness knows you have enough on your plate for three people.” Joyce tsked, shaking her head. “You need to slow down a little, and enjoy life before it passes you by.”
“I’m fine.” She was. Really, she was. So why did Stone’s face pop into her mind and doubt fill her heart? She. Was. Fine. “There will be time for slowing down long before I’m ready.” Which squeezed her insides and put things into proper perspective. “Speaking of which, how was Mom today?”
Joyce’s expression tightened. “Not great. Getting her to eat is a major ordeal these days.”
Carly winced. She knew from her own attempts to get her mother to eat. She seemed to have lost the will to live. “But she did eat?”
“She got her feeding tube meals, but by mouth.” Joyce shook her head. “She just doesn’t want anything.”
Carly nodded, knowing the nurse would have done all she could to get as many nutrients into Carly’s mother as possible.
“She struggled to communicate today,” Joyce continued. “Not that she tried saying much, but, when she did, understanding her was more difficult than normal. And most of the day she called me Margaret.”
Carly’s grandmother, who’d passed away years ago.
Taking a deep breath, Carly nodded again.
“But in other news,” the older woman began on a false hopeful note, “Gerald texted to say he picked up ten lottery tickets and one was sure to be a winner this time.”
Rubbing the back of her neck, massaging a knotted muscle, Carly smiled. Joyce’s husband struggled with a lifelong gambling problem. These days, he limited himself to no more than ten tickets in each week’s Powerball lotto.
“He says when he wins we’re gonna put your momma somewhere real fine and move you out of this place.”
Carly shook her head. “First off, I’d never let you do that and, second, I don’t want to move. You know this is where Momma wants to be. I’ll keep her here as long as I am physically and financially able.”