Page 36 of The House on Memory Lane

Laney nodded and brushed her lips against his one last time. He helped her up and watched her get dressed. When she pulled on her coat, he took the zipper slider out of her hand and fit it to the opposite pin. The quiet rasp of metal teeth fitting together filled the silence. There was too much to say in not enough time.

Chapter 16

The empty call room wasn’t the Hilton, or her condo, but it would suffice for a nap. Laney could go home and leave the senior resident in charge until she was needed next, but chances were high that she’d be paged before her ass hit the couch at home. They had been called for consults in both the pediatric and adult emergency departments almost non-stop, and Laney had just come out of a four hour operation on a thirteen year old who just barely survived a motor vehicle accident. There was a reason she worked on the pediatric reconstruction team and at DermaNorth instead of providing regular on-service support. As a resident she had loved the rush of these shifts, but now she longed for a regular schedule with patients scheduled at least a day in advance. She liked the routine of clinic days and out-patient care.

She tucked her arm under her head as a makeshift pillow. If only it was Kyle’s bicep. His body could be her blanket. His inevitable erection her alarm clock. Laney groaned and rolled over. She’d arrived in Chicago yesterday at noon and sent a quick text to both Kyle and Evie telling them that she was safe and sound. Then she stopped at the store to pick up bananas and yogurt, had a nap, gone for a run, written a blog post and was in bed fast asleep by eight.

Twenty-four hours later, she still hadn’t called him. He’d sent two texts, both short and sweet. She should respond in kind, but she couldn’t summon the inner flirt right now. She was stuck in a sad melancholy. If she called, she’d probably cry. She’d tell him how much she missed him, that March was too far away. She’d promise the moon just to see him again. Maybe he could fly from Detroit, or they could meet halfway and spend the weekend in a seedy motel.

And then real life would inevitably crash down upon them. He’d want her to come for one of his many family events, and she’d have on-service call, or a conference, or a patient flown in from overseas. He deserved to be someone’s number one priority. And then sooner than later, the conversation would turn to kids and choosing a home, and there was only heartbreak to be found there. They had fixed themselves on perpendicular trajectories a long time ago, and by some freak violation of the laws of trigonometry, they’d had a second momentary intersection. But time doesn’t stand still, and their lives would drag them apart. Again.

Laney’s pager went off and she sat up. Doesn’t that just prove the point? Can’t even fantasize about my boyfriend without interruption.

She was halfway down the hall to the ER before the label sank in. She shoved the freak-out deep down inside, and redirected the burst of adrenaline toward dealing with whatever was on the other side of the curtain.

The sun was up by the end of her shift, but downtown Chicago was still bathed in cool grey shadows. Traffic was limited, and she savoured the quiet. She covered the few blocks to her condo at a slower pace than usual. The frigid air nipped at her cheeks, and she tugged her hat lower to cover her ears. Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she smiled when she pulled it out.

“How was your shift?” Kyle’s voice washed over her, warm and interested.

“Long. Busy. Exhausting.”

“I’m sorry I’m not there. Are you still at the hospital?”

“Just left. I’ll be home in about thirty seconds.”

“I’ll stay on the phone with you until you get upstairs safely.”

She grinned. “And then you can tuck me into bed?”

“Something like that.” Kyle paused. “I miss you, Laney.”

She nodded at the phone, knowing he couldn’t see her. Heavy emotion welled up in her chest and she was relieved when her doorman waved her over to the service desk in the lobby. “Hang on a second, Kyle. I have a package.” She tucked the phone into the crook of her neck and accepted the small cardboard box. It had a courier delivery label on the front, but no other identifying information. “You still there? I have a mystery box.”

“Intriguing.” His voice filled with mischief.

It took her a few beats to clue in, but once she did she bounced with excitement. “How did you get my address? And what is it?”

“Your mom was helpful yesterday.”

Laney rolled her eyes out of habit, but she was touched by both Kyle’s present, whatever it was, and her mother’s quiet acceptance of whatever Kyle was. Your boyfriend, as strange as that might be. It was the right word, once again, and it felt perfectly right. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she was relieved that Kyle couldn’t see her face flush bright red. She swallowed hard as she let herself into her condo.

“Let me just find the scissors...okay, what did you...” her voice trailed off as she pulled the bottles and boxes out of the box. Bubble bath, peppermint foot cream, chamomile tea, chocolate covered espresso beans, and a printed stack of IOU coupons for backrubs. Yeah, he was her boyfriend. Dammit. “Kyle, this is perfect. Oh my god. I’m totally going to have a bath before I crawl into bed. I love this. I love—”

She cut herself off. She squeezed her eyes shut to hold back tears, cursing herself for being suddenly so damn emotional. That empty second felt like a lifetime, but Kyle took over and pulled her back. “I’m glad you like it. I’m sorry I’m not there to run that bath for you. I’d like to wash your hair. And the rest of you.” His voice caught on a gruff note and he cleared his throat. “You can give me a detailed report when you wake up, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Sleep tight, Laney.”

The last thing she did before she drifted off was send Kyle a picture of herself in the bath, surrounded by bubbles.

The winery was decked out for the holidays. Strands of multicoloured lights lit up a massive fir in the lobby and framed the windows. Glass ornaments filled bowls and mistletoe was hung in every arch. Ty must be sleeping with a decorator.

Kyle didn’t see his friend in the bustling tasting room, so he cut across the multipurpose great room, currently being set up for the New Year’s dance, and made his way to the offices in the loft on the far side of the building. A soft moan, followed by a giggle and papers hitting the floor told him that Ty wasn’t alone.

Jesus. He didn’t dare interrupt. They probably wouldn’t stop. He ducked down the hallway toward Evan’s dark office instead. The older West brother was away, but Kyle could use the computer. He wanted to send Laney some MP3s. The songs they danced to the other night. Maybe buy her a Faith Hill album. Anything. Fuck. He just wanted to make her happy again. Keep her constantly happy. Anything to keep her in the mood to take naughty photos, that’s for sure.

Her mother had initially been reluctant to get involved, but when Kyle promised that he would only use the information she could provide for good and not evil, and he swore up and down that he wasn’t going to be a “weak-kneed, lily-livered, spineless little boy this time around”. Claire had made him repeat that one a few times.

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