Page 22 of Outback Mate
“Ida, I’ve found something of yours,” I say quietly into my phone, casting a glance at the sleeping Omega curled up on the examination table. Her mouth is open as she snores softly, drool pooling on the pillow below. How can one person be so damn endearing, even in their sleep?
“Something of mine?” the older woman croaks.
It’s barely nine at night, but it sounds like I’ve woken her. Guilt isn’t something I indulge in; in my opinion, it is a useless emotion. In this instance, I definitely feel chagrinned. Waking up an elderly Omega, who has no doubt been in bed for a few hours, isn’t on my list of accomplishments I’m particularly proud of.
“An Omega,” I offer with a deep sigh. “She says she was coming to meet you.”
Ida pauses, the phone line crackling with interference from the storm. Out here in the Outback, technology can become unreliable during bad weather. “Oh, Poppy!”
I grunt in affirmation.
“She’s not due until tomorrow,” Ida trails off. “She must have gotten the dates mixed up.”
“Found her next to her car with a flat tyre. She’d swerved to avoid hitting a roo.”
“Oh dear, oh dear. Is she alright? Do you have her at the clinic?”
I can hear the affection she already has for the young girl. I wonder how much she knows about Poppy. Perhaps they’ve spoken about the reason she’s looking to find a mate in Bodella.
“She’ll be fine. Had a proper hit to the head resulting in a concussion, but I’ve stitched her up and she’s resting with an IV drip,” I explain, looking back at the sleeping Omega to watch her roll onto her back, the hem of her scrub shirt rising to expose a creamy sliver of skin. I snap my eyes back to the chipping orange paint on the waiting room walls and bite down on the inside of my cheek.
“Poor little dear. She’s had such a rough go of it,” she coos. “You’re a good Alpha for taking care of her, Doc. I’ll be there to collect her in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
My gut clenches. The thought of having to say goodbye to Poppy is a bitter pill can’t swallow. I should jump at the chance to pass Poppy’s care off to Ida. The tantalising scent of sweet peaches and her tempting curves would be gone and I could breathe again.
But I can’t let her go, not yet. I need a little longer to indulge in her. Like filling up my ute with a tank of fuel before a long, lonesome drive into the desert.
“Don’t bother, the storm is picking up, and it’s too wild out there.”
“Nonsense, it’s no bother. I’ll–”
“She’s staying here, Ida,” I bark down the line in a tone that leaves no room for negotiation.
“Oh.”
The phone line clicks as Ida falls silent.
I smack the palm of my hand over my eyes, kicking myself for reacting so severely. This is not me. I don’t snap. I don’t react.
“I mean that she’s got a concussion, and I need to monitor her throughout the night.”
More silence.
A clap of thunder outside makes the phone line crackle with static.
“Oh-hh,”Ida breathes, stretching the word out suggestively.
Dammit.
With a knowing lilt in her voice, I can envision the wide, wrinkled smile on her face. “I get it, Doc. No problem. She’ll be fine with you. We’ll catch up when the storm clears.”
“She’s mypatient,Ida. I’m duty bound to provide care,“ I insist. She needs to understand that this has nothing to do with her being a ridiculously pretty and nice-smelling unmated Omega. It’s strictly professional.
“Yes, of course,” Ida agrees, her tone light. “I’m sure you’ll take very good care of her.”
“Goodnight, Ida.”
“Goodnight, Doc. Oh, and Doc?”
