Page 6 of Wes
Chapter Three
Natalia
Thank God years of experience have taught me to compartmentalize. If not, I wouldn’t have been able to help in the other room.
Wes Wilkins asked for my number. He’s certainly not the first man to do so while in my care, but it’s the first time I was tempted to give it.
Wes Wilkins.
The name sounds familiar, but I’m not sure why. If I met him before, I’d like to hope I would have remembered. He’s handsome. Hot even.
Once, long ago when I was young and stupid, I thought forty was ancient. Now that I’m creeping up on it, I realize how very wrong I was. Sure, there are days my body protests, and I’m forced to accept I’m no longer a kid, but after the number of patients who have rotated through since I started working here, I now know what old really is.
Wes may be older, and his face has started showing some signs of aging, but he’s incredibly desirable. His body isdefinitelyworking. The image of him hardening during Dr. Rivers’s exam is a clear indicator of that not-so-small fact.
I’ve never had a set age for attraction. Plenty of good-looking men over thirty exist. The few I dated were my age if not a little older. Those younger than me don’t always understand the labors and responsibilities of being a parent.
Having Jeremy when I did helped me stay young even as it aged me faster. I spent endless nights worrying if I’m doing things right and doing everything I can by myself…
My phone vibrates in my pocket as I reach the nurses’ desk. A quick peek at the clock tells me who it is before I even pull it out.
“Hi, honey!”
“Hi, Mom. Game’s done, and I’m waiting on Mrs. Sanders to finish talking to someone.”
“Okay. I’ll be out of here in the next ten minutes hopefully. How was the game?” I ask.
Jeremy’s sigh puts a frown on my face. “It was all right. We won… barely.”
“That’s great, honey! If you’d like, I can pick up a treat on my way home to celebrate?”
“You don’t have to do that, Mom…”
“I’m your mother. I can, and I will. I’ll see you in a bit. I love you!”
“Love you too, ma!” he says and the call ends.
I smile and put the phone back in my pocket. If I have to guess, he’s running through the innings, analyzing what he did wrong that could have given them a better lead. My boy is far too hard on himself.
“You’re still here?” Bobbie asks, walking out of Wes’s room. Once the situation calmed, I asked her to discharge Wes for me.
“Nope. Getting my things and heading home,” I answer, and Bobbie laughs.
With my things in hand, I type out a quick reply to my mother’s text. By the time I sense him, it’s too late to stop. He grabs my shoulders and stops me from stumbling. Our eyes meet, and I consciously stop myself from leaning into him.
“Sorry,” I whisper. The word is breathy, mirroring my whole body’s sigh at Wes’s touch.
“You never answered,” he whispers back, his gaze on my lips.
“Huh?”
“Can I have your number?”
I watch his lips move in a tantalizing way, and his words slowly penetrate the fog his touch has created. Looking into his eyes, I see a storm of emotions. I should say no and walk away. The problem is I’ve never felt this kind of reaction to a man.
Jeremy’s father had been a lukewarm relationship which ended as soon as the positive sign appeared. Since then, I’ve had only a handful of lovers. Wes’s eyes promise so much even through the turbulent emotions swirling. I can’t deny this strong albeit odd attraction between us.
Deciding to take a chance, my lips move and Wes is calling the numbers back. It reminds me of how good Jeremy is with numbers.
