Page 16 of Doctor Charmer

Bam.

I’m dead.

My tongue hangs from my mouth as she completes her turn and finds me panting. I am her willing, susceptible victim, my schoolboy crush now imprinted on the center of my chest like a scarlet letter for the world to see.

“Looks like we have a deal.”

Chapter Nine

Reggie

Irip off the bloody gloves, tossing them in the bin. “Buzz me when we hear from the lab.” I give instructions to my team and exit the ER room. An elderly woman with a kitchen mishap. Third time she’s been in my ER in the last three months, and I suspect something more than carelessness. “Page Neuro for a consult.” I won’t let her go home this time until we’ve explored every avenue and gotten to the root cause. “No stone unturned.”

I push out of the room and take a deep exhale. Since this morning, it’s been nonstop. I pace to the nurses’ station to see what is next. When Nurse Reynolds is on duty, I make no pretense that I’m in charge. Her chin lifts as I approach; she can already read my mind.

“You can take a breath. All quiet,” she says with half a smirk. “You’ll have a visitor arriving in three, two…” She looks over her shoulder, and standing in the doorway is Ivy. She’s wearing a sweat suit jacket, a thick scarf wrapped around her neck, and matching sweatpants, and she has a winter jacket hooked over her arm.

“Now?” Ivy’s question is directed at Nurse Reynolds.

She smiles and nods. “Now.” Ivy approaches, and Nurse Reynolds gives her back and whispers to me, “She’s come by every twenty minutes like clockwork looking for you.”

My first thought is of our bet, and I wonder if I’m about to win. “Really?”

Nurse Reynolds smacks my arm. “Don’t be a smart-ass. Careful with this one.”

I don’t have time to ask what she means as Ivy appears next to me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you a million times.” Ivy looks at me as if I’ve hung the moon, and I have no idea what she’s thanking me for.

“Griffin,” she says, and it all clicks. I had them place Griffin in the same room as his teammate Chelsea, the other two girls next door.

“Don’t mention it. It was nothing.” It wasn’t. Finding two empty rooms on the same floor is tough enough; having them next to each other is damn near impossible. Three phone calls and Nurse Reynolds calling in a favor weren’t enough to get them to break hospital protocol. But my personal visit to the fifth floor convinced them it would be better for them to have a friend in the ER who owed them a favor than one with a vindictively long memory.

“Still, you made it happen. Right next to each other. I really appreciate it. They feel like they’re back in the dorms and not sequestered at a hospital nearly a hundred of miles away from everyone they know.” Ivy adjusts the coat in her hand to swipe at a dark curl that has fallen in front of her face. I take her movement to steal another of the thousand glances I’m accumulating. She’s a rare beauty who gets more stunning the longer I stare at her. “You got a few minutes? Grab your coat.”

It’s only been a few hours since I last saw her, but it feels like a week has passed. “Sure. Let me run up to my office. Meet you in the lobby in three.”

“I’ll be counting,” she whispers, then turns on her heels and is gone before I can speak. I watch her bounce out of the exit, not realizing Nurse Reynolds is still standing next to me.

“Hope you know what you’re doing? Something tells me she’s not like your others.”

I laugh and head toward the elevator bank. “I certainly hope so.” She’s right. Nurse Reynolds is always right. “I most certainly hope so,” I repeat, pressing the button.

***

“I need to move,” Ivy says, and a white puff of smoke from the cold winter air floats in front of her face. Her scarf is wrapped tight around her neck, but she doesn’t wear a hat or hood. Snowflakes land on the top of her curls but don’t seem to bother her. I half debate reaching over to wipe it away just to have an excuse to touch her.

We are outside the back entrance of the hospital. It’s midday, but the overcast sky makes it feel like early evening. The holiday lights along the path are on. They’ll remain on until late January.

Ivy paces three strides ahead of me, and I march to keep up. She wasn’t kidding when she said she needed to move. Long strides eat up the walkway, and the hospital fades into the background.

“Too much sitting is not good for the body,” she says, leading us down the snow-covered trail. The benches and tables used for summer lunches are covered in snow. “But you’re a doctor. You already know this.”

She turns to face me, walking backward and spreading her glove-covered hands out as if she’s about to catch the sun, andI don’t doubt for one second that she’ll be capable of it. “It’s a freaking winter wonderland out here. How is it possible that I live two hours away and we don’t experience snow like this?”

I could tell her it has to do with the fact Eastport sits between two mountain ranges with Canadian breezes, but that’s not the response she’s seeking. “It’s a magical place.”

She ignores my comment, a spark of mischief igniting in her golden eyes. “You know what this weather is perfect for?”

“I’m thinking warm blanket, roaring fire…” I lay the breadcrumbs for her to follow.

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