Not Quite Forever (Not Quite #4)(35)
Author: Catherine Bybee

She grabbed it off the receiver as if it had insulted her by its mere existence.

With a forced smile on her face, Dakota lifted her voice and smothered it with Southern charm.

“Emergency Room, this is Rick?”

“Hello Rick. Can you be a dear and tell me if Doctor Eddy is on today?”

“We don’t give out the doctors’ schedules.”

“Oh, I don’t want his schedule. You see, he was so wonderful with my stepdaughter last week. I just wanted to send him a little something. It would be a shame if I sent it on a night he wasn’t working.” Dakota crossed her fingers and closed her eyes . . . as if those motions could change the outcome of this call.

“Oh . . . well . . .”

“I just need to know if I’m sending pizza or doughnuts. I have a feeling Doctor Eddy has a sweet tooth but doughnuts in the evening simply aren’t the same . . . wouldn’t you agree?” C’mon, Rick.

One of the tidbits Walt had given her about the ER staff was their desire for food.

“In that case. He’ll be in tonight at seven.”

Gotcha! “Bless your heart. I’ll be sure and send enough for everyone. Everyone was so kind. Thank y’all for being here for us.”

“No problem.”

Walt was back in town and yet a call hadn’t happened.

There were things she could forgive, but going back on your word wasn’t one of them.

Before turning off her computer, she found a local pizza joint that delivered and ordered six pizzas for the staff of the ER. She was a woman of her word.

Then she went to her bedroom and put on an extra layer of polish and a change of clothes.

Never go into any breakup looking your worst. Make ’em wish they had made a different choice.

Sometimes her Southern upbringing came in handy.

Before she left the house, she managed a couple of aspirin to help with the headache that seemed to be with her daily since Walt brushed her off.

The tears didn’t help.

After today, she wouldn’t shed another one. If Walt wanted her out of his life, fine. But he was going to offer some kind of explanation for the sudden departure.

He pulled into the doctors’ parking lot, found a spot on the second level, and locked his car before finding the back stairs close to the ER.

He hesitated at the bottom of the stairs.

She wore black stiletto boots and a mini with a tight-knit white turtleneck without sleeves. Her dark-rimmed sunglasses hid her eyes but the lack of smile on her face said everything.

Walt didn’t like the twist in his gut. The desire to reach for her, tell her he was being an ass, try and make her understand his worries even when he didn’t quite know them, was a physical ache. It didn’t help that she looked hotter than he’d ever seen. “Dakota,” he whispered her name.

“Oh, shucks, Doc. You remembered my name. I’m flattered.”

He deserved that.

“We should talk.”

She placed her fingertips on her forehead and squeezed her temple. “You know, Walt. I thought we were doing fine. I’m only here to find out what the hell I did that made you run.”

“You didn’t do anything.” And standing by her side made him kick his own ass for not calling her.

“If you tell me it’s not me, it’s you, I won’t be responsible for my reaction.” She pushed the heel of her hand to her head. “This was a mistake.”

When she started to walk past him, he reached out. “Please.”

She shook out of his hold and removed her sunglasses with a swipe of her hand. The fatigue he saw in the mirror every day sat behind her eyes. The words I fucked up sat on the tip of his tongue. He opened his mouth to tell her he was an ass, a scared ass, and then she wiped the back of her hand under her nose and looked down.

Blood.

“Damn it,” she muttered.

She leaned forward and dug into the purse, retrieved a tiny tissue, and blotted her nose.

“Are you OK?”

“It’s a bloody nose, Doctor. I’m fine.”

Only the blood was overfilling her tissue and running down her arm.

His forearms throbbed as he fisted his hands to keep from reaching for her. It was obvious she didn’t want his touch.

That gutted him.

A drop of blood hit her white shirt, and she blew out a string of obscenities that would make a sailor take note.

“The ER is ten feet away with plenty of gauze to help you with that.”

She glared before twisting on her heel and walking toward the back entry.

He walked beside her, not touching, and punched in the access code. The double doors of the bay opened to the activity and noise of the department. A few heads swung their way.

“Hey, Walt.”

He smiled at Valerie before reaching into a supply cart just past the nurse’s station. He found a pack of four-by-four gauze and pulled a stack. He brushed her hand away as he pinched her nose and kept pressure.

“I got it.” She tried pulling away, but he reached around her to keep her put.

“Hold still!”

She growled and glared.

That he could deal with, then he saw a tear fall down her cheek. “Damn it, Dakota. We were moving too fast. I care too much.”

Now the tears were rolling. Thankfully, Valerie moved in and stopped all conversation. “You should sit down,” she told Dakota. “B-nine is empty. I’ll put her there.”

Valerie placed a gloved hand over his and led Dakota away.

Her head was pounding and her brand-new angora sweater was ruined.

Damn him!

Valerie moved her behind a curtain and pulled more gauze. Without taking away any pressure, she switched the cloth and forced Dakota’s head down.

The taste of blood rolled down her throat with a gag.

“Thanks, Valerie.”

“No problem.” Valerie took Dakota’s free hand and placed it over hers. “Hold this . . . tight.”

They made the switch and Valerie stepped away to pull more supplies from a cart at her side. “Does this happen a lot?”

Dakota shook her head. “No. Well, a couple times this past week.”

“This bad?”

Is this bad?

She swallowed again, hated the taste.

“No.”

“The humidity is down. Nosebleeds increase with the dry air.”

“I live closer to the beach,” Dakota told her.

Instead of asking more questions, Valerie pulled the blood pressure cuff from the overhead monitor and turned it on. “I’m just going to check your blood pressure.”