Owen and I donât see each other for the next few days, although we speak multiple times on the phone. He isnât happy about the separation, but this time, itâs not out of anger, but necessity.
His mother is only in town for a short time. They need to spend quality time together.
Me? Iâm busy helping Beth at the shelter, in between visiting my father and throwing up at least twice a day.
Owenâs inquiry about me being pregnant is never far from my mind, and now that Iâm a week late, I have the sneaking suspicion heâs right. Granted, with the upheaval of the last month, anything is possible. All my body systems may be on hiatus, or strike, or whatever.
The ongoing debate in my head continues, as it has for the last seventy-two hours. My brain will win, but my delusional self isnât going down without a fight.
But thatâs an argument for another day. Today is about staff call-outs and uncooperative patientsâthe joys of nursing.
Yay, me.
Owenâs muttered curse floats over to my seat at the nurses station, and I swivel in my chair. We offer pleasantries at work, but itâs getting increasingly difficult. Hey, I deserve some credit. Itâs damn near impossible to act nonchalant around the man I want to jump 24/7. I think our ruse is working, too. Unless Dr. Empreso, aka Dr. Sleaze, starts flapping his gums.
âStupid thing.â
I bite back a laugh before strolling over to Owenâs chair. I lean over, taking control of the mouse. âWe have an ongoing joke that this computer is possessed by the ghosts of patients past. Itâs not just you.â
âIs that a fact?â Owen catches my gaze, his finger sliding along mine in the slightest of caresses. âYou smell good.â
The man is becoming more brazen at work, but I donât mind the affection. I think itâs time to call us what we areâin love.
âIâm not wearing anything, Owen.â
âOn the contrary, youâre wearing too much.â
I try to play it off, but he knows me too well. âBehave.â
âIâm sick of behaving. I want to see you tonight.â
With a final click, the computer is once again cooperating. âThere you go, handsome.â I wink at him, throwing in an extra hip shake for kicks. I know heâs watching me walk away. My only hope? Iâm making him as hot and bothered as he makes me.
Allâs fair in love.
Iâm not two minutes into my coffee break, hoping that Owen will sneak in for some playtime when I hear the dreaded announcement.
There are two words that every nurse and doctor knowâand hate.
âCode Blue, room 410. Code Blue, room 410,â the voice sounds over the loudspeaker.
Fuck. My floor, my unit. I tear out of the break room, grabbing the code cart as I race down the hallway.
Owen is already at the bedside, while another seasoned nurse administers compressions.
I fly into reactionary mode. Itâs a gift and a curse. A gift because Iâve seen enough codes in my life to know the steps by heart. A curse for the same reason.
But today is a good day. Today, we get the patient back, with a few cracked ribs after some zealous compressions. Hey, a small price to pay for life. Thereâs a ton of activity during a code, but you get tunnel vision, focusing on the task at hand. The noise is a low roar in the background, existing in the periphery.
But once itâs finished, reality swoops back in, in vivid color. Thereâs also generally one hell of a mess to clean up, but again, a small price to pay. I send the opened code cart downstairs with a staff nurse and reorganize the patientâs room.
Owen left a few minutes after the patient stabilized, to write some new orders. At this point, heâs likely back in his office or rounding.
Orâ¦visiting with Hot Doc, who is on this unit. Again.
âSome fancy work this afternoon,â Nicole coos, and I resist the urge to take a swing at her perfect button nose.
âItâs a team effort, Nicole.â Owen is cordial, but he doesnât seem fixated by the gorgeous doctorâs ministrations. Lucky for him.
I, on the other hand, am captivated. I am also plotting her demise, but sheâs far too involved with my boyfriend to notice.
Owen and I need to have a talk. Iâm ready for our relationship to become public. That way, I can break Nicoleâs neck is she looks at him again.
Iâm joking. Kind of.
âYouâre a natural leader and the way you sprang into action. Such talented hands.â
âThank you,â Owen replies, his gaze focused on his phone.
So far, so good.
âI remember how talented they were the other evening.â
Oh, now the bitch has my attention. What other evening?
Owen shoots a look in my direction, and Iâm sure heâs scalding under the intensity of my gaze. So, thatâs what heâs been doing these last few days.
The lying, sorry son-of-a-bitch.
âDo you have plans tonight? Letâs get dinner.â Nicole edges closer to Owenâs side, but Iâm not sure whose neck I want to wring moreâhis, hers, or my own for believing the man.
I donât know what variety of dining Dr. Hedges is offering Owen tonight. A co-worker soiree or a âfuck me in the carâ dinner, but my stomach wonât let me stick around to find out. A wave of nausea overtakes me, and I turn, sprinting for the bathroom.
I splash water on my face, as my delusional side tries to convince my head that I have food poisoning or a stomach bug. Maybe itâs the concept that Nicole may be sleeping with the man I love. Thatâs it. Weâll use that logic.
I groan and head for the changing room. Iâm beyond ready for this day to be over. Stick a fork in me, Memorial. Iâm done.
I hear the door open behind me but pay it no mind. There are always people in and out of the locker room. Privacy is at a premium in a hospital.
âThat was great work today, Tally.â
Inwardly, my body heats hearing Owenâs voice. Externally, Iâm far more composed. At least, I hope I am. Likely not. âWhat are you doing in the womenâs locker room?â I ask, not bothering to turn around.
âTrying to catch you alone for a few minutes.â
âWhy is that?â
âMaybe because I miss you, and I want to talk to you.â
âAbout what?â I hate feeling jealous. My only saving grace is that Owen might not know that I am.
Thereâs a chance, right?
âSo,â he hedges, stepping closer to my spot near the bench, âwould this sudden frostiness have anything to do with Nicole?â
âI have no idea what youâre talking about,â I mutter, shoving on my Converse.
âI always said you were a terrible liar. Just admit that youâre jealous.â Heâs baiting me. The conceited prick.
It doesnât matter that heâs correct. Iâm not giving him the damn satisfaction. That, and Iâm furious that he hung out with another woman after we agreed to be exclusive.
âNot my business who youâre fucking, although Iâd be careful. Sheâs got a reputation on her. Then again, apparently, so do you.â Damn. I have to say, I have a wicked tongue sometimes.
Owenâs eyes widen as the smile slides from his face. âJesus, Tally! I was joking. Nothing is happening between Nicole and me.
You know that, donât you?â
I finish fixing my ponytail, hoping the slight shrug will suffice as an answer, and heâll leave. It doesnât.
I turn to face him, and my heart catches at his easy manner as he leans against the door. Heâs so beautiful, even if he is a closet man whore. âWhatever you say, Dr. Stevens.â
He rolls his eyes at my formal reply. âRemember what I said the last time you called me Dr. Stevens?â
âItâs your title. Itâs appropriate.â
âWell, the things I want to do to you are highly inappropriate.â He jostles my arm, trying to make me smile.
Fat chance of that.
He opts for another tact, realizing he gained zero yards with the last play. âAre you hungry? I know an incredible pizza place that this sexual dynamo showed me.â
âI thought you and Nicole were having dinner.â
âYou jealous.â
I flip him the bird because I lack an intelligent response. That, and my stomach is threatening to upend itself. Again.
âYouâre a brilliant woman, Tally. But youâre an idiot if you think, for one second, that I want anything to do with that woman.â He nods toward the exit, offering his famous sex on a stick smile. âCome on, grumpy girl, letâs go get pizza. You can glare at me the whole time. Even douse my slice with crushed red pepper.â
I shake my head and push my glasses up my nose. Usually, I find him impossible to resist. But the whole Nicole situation stinks. Worst part? Itâs my own damn fault. I wanted to keep our relationship on the down-low. Nicole has no such hang-ups. âIâm heading home, but thank you. Enjoy your dinner.â
His large, talented hands grasp my shoulders. âAm I going to have to pull rank here, Tally?â
âFor pizza?â
âTo spend time with you.â He frames my face, his thumbs dancing across my cheeks. âI miss you. I know itâs only been four days, but I feel you putting distance between us again.â
âApparently, you were busy with Nicole,â I grumble, my little green monster getting angrier by the second.
âFirst, it was a group of doctors grabbing a drink. I showed them that card trick. Thatâs why she claims my hands are talented.â His brows raise, waiting for me to admit that heâs not a cheating scoundrel. Heâs lucky his tongue is so talented. It would be far easier to remain angry if it werenât. âSecond, Iâm never too busy for you. Itâs not healthy for me to be away from you. I think about you way more than I should. And by that, I mean all the damn time.â
âIt canât be that bad. Youâre busy settling in, with Nicoleâs help.â
âTally,â Owen warns, sending me a scathing glare.
I guess I have to let the Nicole situation drop. For now. âThe rumor is youâve been here until after ten the last few nights.â
âYeah, working out until Iâm too exhausted to do anything other than sleep. Otherwise, Iâd go nuts from sexual frustration.â
âItâs been less than a week, Owen.â
He pushes me against the bay of lockers, his hands curving around my hips. âAre you saying that you donât miss the feeling of my cock inside you? My tongue on your pussy?â
This man and his dirty talk. Itâs sexual lighter fluid. One sentence, and Iâm a flaming torch. I move my gaze upwards, devouring every inch of him. I know itâs a blatant eye fuck, but hey, Dr. Stevens is hot as hell. âIâm not having this conversation.â
He smiles, winding his hand in my hair. âWhy not? Youâre the cause of my frustration.â
âYou know where I live.â
âI know where I you to live, but youâre a stubborn, gorgeous pain in my ass, and you wonât do it.â He shakes his head. âYouâve been distant since the other night. Remember, I canât fix it if I donât know whatâs wrong.â
I bite my lip, staring at the ground. I know that Iâve been distant, although I hoped I wasnât obvious. But Iâm having issues feeling relevant in this golden godâs world.
There, I admit it. Sue me. Granted, Iâll only say it to myself because Iâm not voicing those words aloud.
Owen strokes his finger along my cheek. âIâm sorry I embarrassed you the other night. It wasnât my intention. I just want to help you.â
A flush washes over me as he hits the nail on the head. âI donât need your charity.â
âItâs not charity. Itâs love, Tally. Hasnât anyone ever spoiled you?â
The sad fact? Never. I shake my head, nausea mixing with tears. âI took care of them.â
âAnd now you take care of your Dad. Youâve spent your life taking care of other people.â
âItâs what I do.â
His fingers curl around my nape, offering a subtle caress. âAnd what want to do is take care of you.â
Okay, I suck at emotional moments. I cover them with sarcasm and jokes, which are far less painful than showing my true vulnerability. âHow many sexual favors will be involved in your assistance?â I inquire, giving him a wink.
Owen huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. In exasperation, likely. âIâm about to turn you over my knee, Tally; spank the sass out of you.â
âDonât tempt me with your promises, Owen. Iâll bend over right here.â
His hand smacks against my ass, and I startle as the sound echoes off the walls. Itâs unexpected and hot as hell, firing up every nerve cell. âPlease do. Iâve got several days of pent-up energy, all aiming for you.â
I roll my eyes, but his words flame me to the core. I ache for Owen. Never mind that the image of sweat dropping off his tattooed muscles is enough to make me swoon.
âDonât roll those gorgeous eyes at me. You remember what happened the last time you did that, donât you?â
Do I ever. It started with Owen tossing me over his shoulder in a firemanâs hold and ended with him buried inside me. A delectable experience, but my ever-present nausea interrupts my trip down memory lane.
âTally, you okay?â
Not even close. With a strangled whimper, I push past him and sprint for the bathroom, losing the contents of my stomach for the second time today. How is there anything left?
I think Iâd better give up on eating. Itâs hazardous to my health.
I dally in the bathroom, hoping Owen will grant me some privacy. Even better, Iâll circumvent those inevitable questions if heâs gone.
I emerge a few minutes later, my insides settling after my latest round with the toilet. âStupid stomach virus.â
âAre you still sick?â
Shit. Heâs still here. âIâve got that bug thatâs going around.â
Owen presses his hand presses against my cheek. âYouâre not feverish. What bug?â
âThe stomach virus thatâs making the rounds.â
âNo one has a stomach virus.â
Just this one time, can my poker face be on point? Please?
âFood poisoning, maybe?â
Owen crosses his arms, cocking his head as he smirks. So much for the poker face. âMs. Tally, are you pregnant?â
âOf course not!â
âYou sure?â
âIâm fine.â Time to move this conversation train to the next station. This stop is too uncomfortable. âIâll see you later, I guess.â
âYouâre having dinner with me.â It isnât a question, and I can tell by the set of his jaw it isnât open for debate. âWeâll get you some soup instead of pizza. Something easy on your stomach.â
âNo, pizza sounds good,â I blurt, feeling my stomach rumble. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me?
Owenâs eyes widen as he grins. âDoes it? Is that you or the baby talking?â
âIâm not pregnant.â
He wraps his arms around me. A surprise move. âGuess weâll find out, wonât we?â
âYeah, canât wait to see how fast youâd head for the hills if Iâm knocked up.â
His grip tightens as his hand tangles in my hair, forcing me to meet his gaze. âIâd be by your side every minute. I wouldnât run anywhere but to you, Tally.â
Kerplunk. There goes my heart again. All pitter-patter for this muscled, tattooed, gray-eyed god. âDoesnât matter anyway, because Iâm not pregnant.â
Owenâs low chuckle confirms that he doesnât believe me, either. Hell, he is a doctor. Heâs familiar with the âbirds and beesâ concept, even alluding to our less than careful sexual history the other night. Okay, we were never careful. We were hot and heavy and immersed in each other.
âI just want to ensure that you know you canât scare me off with any baby talk.â
My heart flips again. Owen always says the right thing. The only trouble is, do I believe him this time? I smile up at him, grabbing my fedora from the bench. âNoted. Now, how about that pizza? Iâm starving.â
He drops a kiss of my forehead and wraps an arm around my shoulder. âYour wish is my command, Darlin.â