Wedding Date With The Army Doc. Lynne Marshall

Yuri yesterday?” By his confused expression, it seemed like she had the perfect antidote to stop this kiss cold.

      “You did. I was doing her a favor.”

      Charlotte was very aware that even though they were no longer kissing, he hadn’t let her out of his arms. “A favor?” Did he really expect her to believe that line?

      “She’s got a thing for Stan Arnold.”

      “The head of the medical lab?” Trying to picture petite Yuri with tall, gangly Stan made Charlotte smile.

      “He would be the one. Apparently she’s had a thing for him for years, and recently found out his wife had dumped him. So she cooked up this plan to make him jealous.”

      “I don’t remember seeing Stan at the party yesterday.”

      “That’s the joke. Yuri sets up this elaborate plan, me pretending to be her date, and the guy doesn’t show up.” He smiled and shook his head. “She’s got it bad.”

      “I guess I shouldn’t listen to everything Antwan tells me.”

      His eyes widened, as if amazed she’d listen to anything Antwan said, let alone everything. “Like what?”

      “That you’re a ladies’ man, and you’ve dated a lot of women from St. Francis.”

      An odd look crossed his face. “Not at all true. I’ve had only a couple of dates since I’ve moved here, no one from the hospital, and once they got to know me, neither lady bothered to stick around.” What was he telling her? Was there a Mr. Hyde to his charming Dr. Jekyll? Before she could delve into that loaded statement, Jackson spoke again. “And by the way, I noticed Dr. Dupree hanging around you a lot yesterday. If you hadn’t already told me you don’t have anything going on with him, I might have thought you were there together.” He’d expertly changed the subject.

      “Oh, no! I hope no one else thought that.” She was well aware of still being in Jackson’s arms, and was also dying to know if she’d made him feel jealous yesterday, even though she knew it was pointless, just a little ego bump.

      “I don’t really care what anyone else thinks, but I’m relieved.” He kissed her again, this one far from a comfort kiss and sending shivers dripping down her spine. If she’d had any doubt about his interest before, he’d sure proved her wrong now. This kiss felt intimate, like they kissed like this every day, and she liked it. Kissing Jackson shut down her never-ending thoughts and questions, allowing her to stay in the moment and enjoy the soft yet persistent feel of his lips on hers. At first he kissed like a gentleman, but something she did—she’d got carried away and opened her mouth and pushed her tongue between his lips, to be exact—had fired him up. She reeled with the feel of him getting a little wild with the kisses because of something she’d set off. How long had it been since she’d done this to a man?

      As his mouth worked down the side of her neck, finding many of her trigger points and setting loose chills, his hands began to wander over her shoulders and down her arms, soon skimming the sides of her chest down to her waist and back up. As much as she was enjoying everything, he’d moved into “the zone” and it shocked her back to reality.

      This can’t happen. Not here. Not now. Not ever?

      She pulled herself together and stepped back, letting him know they’d crossed a line for which she wasn’t ready. She searched for and found her voice, barely able to whisper the words. “Though this is really nice, it probably isn’t the best way to work out my concerns for Dr. Gordon.”

      “Seems like a pretty damn good replacement, though.” Jackson, like the perfect gentleman that he usually had been until about five minutes ago, took a second to pull it together. “I’m pretty sure Jim will be out of Recovery by now. Want to go visit him with me?” It had been spoken as if nothing monumental had just happened between them, like he kissed women in their offices all the time.

      “I’d love to.” She’d also love to continue kissing him, but only in her dreams could she have what she really wanted from Jackson. Just like the reality of Dr. Gordon with metastatic cancer, some things weren’t easily worked out.

      With more questions about Jackson than she’d ever had before, and a boatload of mixed-up feelings, both mental and physical, for him, she still managed a daring last kiss. She’d call it a gratitude kiss. Granted, it followed a quick hug of thanks and was only a buss of the cheek, but at least it was something.

      After graciously accepting her parting gift, and searching her stare for an instant, he headed for the door and she followed him toward the elevators for the post-op ward. Something significant had happened between them. Figuring out what it meant would be left for another time.

      Before just now, never in her wildest imagination could she have seen that kiss coming.

      * * *

      Dr. Gordon’s eyes were closed. The head of the hospital bed was elevated slightly, and the white over-starched sheets seemed to bleach what little color he had from his face. Oxygen through a nasal cannula helped his shallow breathing. The sight of her mentor looking so vulnerable made her stomach burn. She took his hand, the one with the IV, and his eyelids cracked open. He needed a few seconds to focus before he smiled.

      “Hello, Jim. Glad to see you survived surgery,” Jackson said, as if he’d had nothing to do with it.

      “Yeah, some lunatic tried to kill me today.” His gaze shifted to Charlotte rather than look at Dr. Hilstead any longer, and his tough facade softened as he did.

      “How’re you doing?” She could hardly hear herself.

      “Besides feeling like I’ve been shot with BBs in my gut, okay, I guess.”

      “When was the last time you had pain medicine?”

      “I lost track of time a while ago. I’m supposed to push this.” He nodded toward the medicine dispenser attached to his IV pole, which allowed the patient to regulate pain control on the first day post-op. He pressed it. If enough time had passed since the last dose, he’d get more now, which of course would put him back to sleep.

      “Can I give you some ice chips?”

      “Sure.” He let her feed the ice to him from a plastic spoon, and it struck her how over the past few years he’d spoon-fed her knowledge as her mentor. Helping now was the least she could do. She found a pillow on the bedside chair, fluffed it and exchanged it for the flattened one behind his head, just like she’d learned to do with her mother. He groaned with the movement but let her do it.

      Their eyes met briefly. Appreciation, with flecks of hard-won wisdom, conveyed his thoughts. Jackson had probably already talked to him about the findings, and Dr. Gordon had assigned her to the frozen sections for the surgery. They all knew the outcome. There was no point in bringing it up.

      She tried to keep sadness from coloring her gaze as they shared a sweetly poignant moment, almost like father and daughter. Emotion reached inside her and gripped until her throat tightened and she feared she’d start to cry. She inhaled as reinforcement. “You probably feel like sleeping.”

      He let her use the excuse, squeezed her hand one last time and let her go. “Thanks for coming by.”

      “I’ll be back later, okay?”

      He nodded, snuggled back on the pillow and shut his eyes again.

      Jackson guided Charlotte at the small of her back from the bedside out the door to the nurses’ station. “He knew before going in what the likelihood was of his having mets.”

      She hated this part of her job, verifying the worst outcome. Seeing her mentor’s tired face just now, looking nothing like the strong head of the department she’d always looked up to, had knocked some of the air from her. She gulped and the swelling emotions she’d tried to ward off with little bedside tasks took hold. Her eyes burned, and her chest clutched at her lungs. Memories from nearly twenty years ago threw her to the curb, and she broke down.

      Jackson