Page 27 of Too Hot to Sleep
"Oh?"
"Kind of big and bulky," she said quickly, floundering for words. "And pushy." And he called her "ma'am," as if she were... special.
"Pushy? Well, I guess that's how he was able to get so many policemen down there to give blood."
"I suppose," she said, leaning back on the pillows she'd stacked against her headboard. Ithadbeen quite a sight, all those blue uniforms standing in line. One hundred and six donors. Ken Medlock seemed determined to get that hot dog—and her attention. Trouble was, he had it. She considered telling Rob about the impromptu deal, but then thought better of it, lest he think she was actually looking forward to spending time with the man.
"Rob," she said quietly, unable to identify the emotions pulling at her. "I know we've been having... fun... on the phone lately, but I was wondering if tonight we could just talk." The way Ken Medlock had wanted to talk today, about family and things that were important. She'd held back with Ken becauseshe hadn't wanted to become invested in a virtual stranger, but she did crave that kind of closeness with Rob.
"Talk," he mumbled. "Sure. What do you want to talk about?"
"I don't know," she admitted, casting about for a topic. "How about us?"
"What about... us?"
She smiled and burrowed deeper into the pillows. "Well, what first attracted you to me?"
"That's easy. You're beautiful, smart, beautiful."
A warm, tingly feeling bloomed in her stomach. "That's sweet, but I wasn't fishing for a compliment. What do you think makes us a good couple?"
"Isn't it enough that I'm crazy about you?"
Her grin widened, and she closed her eyes—the words she'd been hoping for, spoken with ringing sincerity. "Are you happy with the way things are going between us?"
"I... guess so. Yes. Yes, I am."
"Good. So am I." Remembering her earlier conversation with Ken, she said, "Tell me more about your family and where you're from."
"I'm from... Cincinnati."
Georgia laughed. "I know that. I mean, what was your childhood like? I don't even know if you have brothers and sisters."
"Oh, well, you know... I'd rather hear about you."
"What about me?"
"Have you ever told me why you became a nurse?"
She smiled. "I don't think so."
"So tell me."
Georgia squirmed against the pillow at her back as memories flooded over her. Not all bad, not all good. "I guess I was always the family fixer. My father worked a lot." And then there were George Adams's occasional affairs, which she wasn't readyto share. "My sister and my mother were so much alike, they communicated through arguing."
"So you were the peacemaker and the healer."
"I suppose. And I was into photography. When I was seventeen, I came upon a car accident scene and pulled out my camera. But when I developed the pictures, I realized I'd used all my film to capture the paramedics and a nurse who had happened by. They were amazing... selfless."
"There were survivors?"
"Yes," she murmured, the memory keen. "Everyone survived. I decided the next time I came upon an emergency, I wanted to be able to do more than take a picture."
He was quiet for a few seconds, then said, "You got your wish."
She gave a little scoffing laugh. "If I don't get myself fired for taking care of dogs."
"It was that cop's fault, not yours."
