Page 57 of Meant to Be
Chapter Eleven
Sydney exited the exam room, setting the folder in the box for the checkout nurse, and made her way up the long hallway toward her office. Because she hadn’t been at the hospital long, she didn’t have too many women on her patient list and for the most part, they were past childbearing years. That meant less of a chance of late night calls to deliver a baby, and right now, with a stalker on her trail, that was a good thing. Although, she had one patient at the free clinic who was due to deliver at any time. Would Mitch go with her if the call came in the middle of the night? Of course he would. It was his job to protect her. That was all his attention was, protection not affection.
His kindness was a part of him — she’d witnessed it this morning at Chelsea’s. Chelsea was a friend in need, and he was there to help her. Had he ever kissed Chelsea? Immediately Sydney chastised herself. It was a petty, jealous thought. Even a blind man would know Mitch had taken on the duties of big brother. She’d wanted to ask him about what had happened in Iraq, but his brusque responses and the way his fingers tensed on the steering wheel when they left Chelsea’s let Sydney know he didn’t talk about it.
There was a time when he would have shared the good and the bad with her, but her job now was to get over the idea they could be fixed. He cared for her and had even kissed her–twice–but a relationship was out of the question.
“Doctor Preston? Mitch McKenna is in your office.” Nurse Lang’s tone suggested she was thinking the same thing that woman in the car had this morning: Sydney was his next conquest.
Sydney’s thoughts ambled back to how Mitch had looked that morning standing shirtless in the kitchen. She had to let the dream of their relationship go, but she wouldn’t mind being the next notch on his bedpost in the meantime. And the way he kept kissing her, despite his own protests, suggested he wanted it too. What would it hurt if they were both clear it was sex and only sex?
“Doctor Preston?”
Jerked from her thoughts, Sydney smiled, hoping Nurse Lang didn’t think it was sexual fantasies causing Sydney’s momentary daydream. “Yes. Is my next appointment here?”
“You have about five minutes.”
Again, there was that tone suggesting she had time for an interlude. Something told Sydney that she and Mitch would need more than five minutes for a between-patient interlude. She shook her head at the idea of having sex in her office, hoping that the warmth in her cheeks didn’t mean she was blushing.
She nodded toward the nurse and headed to her office. Mitch stood with his back to her, studying the painting she’d bought at the fair.
“Mitch.” She walked in, closing the door behind her. Let Nurse Lang think what she wanted.
Mitch turned to her.. “Is that Potters Creek?”
Sydney nodded. “Yes, I bought it at the fair.” She’d brought it in Monday morning, before all hell had broken lose.
“Have you been there?”
“No. Understand I’ll need four-wheel drive if I want to go.”
He nodded, and for a minute, she thought he might offer to take her. Instead, he looked back at the picture.
Sydney sighed. “Is everything okay?” She gestured for him to sit in one of her guest chairs. She took the other guest seat, putting her closer to him than if she sat behind her desk.
“I don’t have anything new to share. I’ve talked to Detective Fletcher, and he’s looking into a couple of new ideas there. And I talked to Jagger.”
She took a deep breath and sat back. “You really think he could be the attacker?”
“It’s important I keep personal thoughts and feelings out of it.”
He was good at it too. It made her sad for him. It shouldn’t be so easy to close off your heart.
“He denied it, of course. He suggested I speak with Doctor Andres.”
She sighed. “Which you’d already planned to do.”
He nodded. “I’m heading up there when I leave here. I plan to be back by the time you’re off, but if not, I want you to call George Lyman.” He handed her a card. “He’s a veteran cop. He’ll escort you to my house and keep watch until I’m back. You’ll need this too.” He handed her his house key.
Taking it slowly from his outstretched hand, she wondered if he’d had an extra made or if it was off his key ring. It wouldn’t have mattered either way, she reminded herself. It wasn’t like he was giving it to her as a suggestion she move in with him. She cursed herself again.
“It will be okay, Sydney.”
He thought she was just worried about the attacker. What would he do if he knew what she was really thinking? Run for the hills, probably. “I’m okay. And I’m sorry about falling apart before.”
“It’s not a problem.” He leaned forward and, for a minute, she thought he’d reach out to touch her, but he didn’t.
“Well, it is. I know you think I’m weak—”
