Page 5 of Passion Restored

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“Feel any better?” Liz McKinley asked her friend as she tucked Tessa in bed. They’d only been home a few minutes, and Tessa had decided to strip down to nothing but her underwear on the way to her bedroom. While she loved her friend, dealing with Drunk Tessa was a pain.

Thankfully, neither of them indulged to this point often.

In fact, Liz couldn’t remember the last time she’d indulged like this. That was kind of sad, honestly. But from the miserable look on Tessa’s face, Liz was pretty sure neither of them wanted to drink this much ever again. But her friend had had a shit day, and sometimes, drinking oneself into oblivion before calling a friend for help was the only way to get through it.

“Mmph.”

Liz snorted at Tessa’s response and finished tucking her in. Her friend was down for the count but would wake up the next morning fully functional and without a hangover. It had been that way since they were eighteen and living in the dorms. Liz honestly hated the other woman for the way she bounced back sometimes. Maybe once they hit thirty things would change, but for now, Tessa would probably be better off than Liz once the sun rose.

The two of them had been roommates since college and now owned their first home together. Most people wouldn’t go in on home ownership with their best friend, but Liz and Tessa weren’t most people. They’d been through hell and some versions of peace together and had come out on top. There wasn’t anything Liz wouldn’t do for Tessa, and she knew Tessa felt the same about her.

Liz didn’t know exactly why Tessa had gone off to the bar alone tonight to drink away her worries. All she knew was that she’d had a bad day. But she knew she’d hear about it eventually. At least, she hoped so. For as open as Tessa claimed to be, her friend kept things tight to her chest.

Though, honestly, Liz was much the same and never claimed to be open. She’d worked a full shift that day and had wanted to come home and start unpacking what was there. They’d moved in the week before, and hadn’t had time to do anything except find a pan to cook with and some sheets to sleep on. The other set of movers would be at the house with the rest of their things from storage in a few days, and Liz knew they at least had to make a pathway for the guys to walk through.

With both Liz and Tessa working at the hospital, though, she had a feeling that neither of them would have time for anything personal for a while. Her position in the ER was tenuous at best since the hospital was once again facing cutbacks, and while she was good at what she did, she had a bad feeling about what the numbers told her.

They had a few too many nurses on payroll, though in reality, there could never be enough nurses when it came to triage. Not that anyone in the administrative department other than Tessa understood that. And Tessa couldn’t do anything but batten down the hatches in her own position thanks to boardroom politics.

Liz let out a groan as she left Tessa’s room and ran her hand through her long, blonde hair that was in desperate need of a trim. She’d been stressing over patients all day, and now she was home stressing about her job. She truly needed a life.

Of course, the image of the dark-haired man with the very sexy and trimmed beard came to mind and she cursed herself. There was no way she was going there. Not with that man or his brother.

And though the one who’d called himself Murphy was good-looking, Liz only had eyes for Owen.

And that just pissed her off.

She didn’t have time for a man, especially one that spent a weeknight in a bar trolling for women. There were more important things for her to deal with since her job was slowly killing her. She still hadn’t unpacked her clothes beyond her scrubs—not that she wore anything but scrubs most days of the week—and she wasn’t sure when she’d last had an orgasm.

Liz stopped in her tracks on the way to the kitchen.

Why the hell had she tacked on her lack of orgasms to that train of thought? Had it really been that long since she’d had sex? Hell, it had probably been that long since she’d gotten herself off in the shower.

Liz tried to mentally do the math and just got more upset with herself. If she needed more than two hands to calculate the last time she’d come, she should probably be using her hands for something else.

Determined, she rolled her shoulders back and headed to her bedroom, only to curse under her breath as her phone buzzed. She knew that buzz, the two quick bursts before a longer one.

The hospital.

Damn it. She’d already worked her shift and didn’t want to go back, but she knew if they called her in, she’d be there. Unlike most of the other men and women in her unit, she didn’t have kids or a husband waiting at home. Apparently, that meant her free time wasn’t as valuable as others’.

Of course, a little voice inside her head whispered to her that if she had more time off, maybe she’d actually meet a man and get started on making those babies.

Damn how she missed orgasms.

Beautiful, long orgasms that made her all revved up and sated at the same time. There was truly nothing better than a man between her legs as he ate her out. He’d use his tongue and his fingers just right, and she’d come right on his face.

With a sad sigh for dreams long forgotten, she pulled out her phone and answered on the second round of buzzes.

“Liz here.”

“We need you in. You didn’t work overtime today so you can work a half-shift.”

Liz crossed her eyes at the sound of her supervisor, Nancy’s, voice. While technically the math of her statement worked out, it still wasn’t that feasible. Liz was exhausted and doing an extra shift—partial or no—wouldn’t be safe for anyone long-term.

“I can come in, but I don’t know about working a full half-shift. You’ll have to double check the math so we don’t go over.”

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