“Youhave to fix your shoulder,” Bette replied, nearly nudging the surgeon with her shoulder. Thankfully, she held back. How mortifying would that have been? “I’m just there to guide you along.”
Emily chuckled. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It is easy,” Bette urged. “All you have to do is be patient and stick to the rehab.”
“I’m a surgeon,” Emily said. “We like to get things done now. Patience isn’t my strong suit.”
“I’ve noticed,” Betty laughed, her voice far lighter than it had been in days. Or maybe she was just imagining it. “But don’t worry, I deal with impatient people for a living. People in pain are usually always frustrated and desperate to see progress. They’re kind of my specialty. You’re a walk in the park compared to some of my regulars.”
“Is that so?” Emily gasped. “Well, now I feel challenged to live up to the competition.”
“I won’t recommend it,” Bette replied, keeping a straight face, enjoying this far too much for her own good. “I usuallymake the worst patients do laps around the therapy center for punishment.”
They reached the coffee shop. It was busier than earlier, with patrons filing both in and out, getting their morning fix. Bette was just about to ask Emily what her usual coffee order was when Emily’s pager suddenly went off.
Emily froze, her gaze dropping briefly as if it took her a moment to register the sound. Then, as if a light bulb went off in that pretty head of hers, she reached for the waistband of her leggings, fumbling slightly before unclipping the pager from its hidden spot––Bette hadn’t even noticed it was there. “Looks like I’m needed,” she said, holding it up.
“Emergency?”
“I guess so,” Emily said, nodding more to herself than Bette. “Not sure how much help I can be without being able to set foot in the OR. But you know, duty calls.” She started to step back, then added, “I’ll see you Monday for our next session.”
“Yup,” Bette replied, nodding. Though a strange, unexpected, and completely unnecessary pang of disappointment settled in as Emily turned to leave. Bette didn’t want to see her go. She didn’t want the conversation to end. Hell, she was even looking forward to sitting at one of the round tables out on the street, sipping another coffee while Emily told her more about herself.
Which, in itself, was completely and utterly ridiculous.
But so too was the way she had said goodbye. What forty-five-year-old saidyupand didn’t follow it up with something else, something more clever?
She needed to fix this.
Just before Emily turned the corner, Bette stepped forward and called after her. “Doctor Sharp!” She waited for Emily to stop and glance back over her shoulder before she added, “Please don’t tell Doctor Meissner I think he needs to get with the times. I’d rather not end up on his bad side.”
Emily’s lips curved into a grin. “Of course not. It’ll be our little secret.” She winked before kicking into a jog, leaving Bette standing there, completely perplexed that the surgeon had just winked at her.
A wink.
What was she supposed to do with that? Analyze it? Laugh it off? Pretend it didn’t happen? Bette’s brain stalled between all three, leaving her no choice but to shake it off.
She walked back into the coffee shop and ordered her second coffee for the day, hoping the caffeine might somehow untangle the mess in her head.
6
EMILY
“This is a bad idea,” Emily muttered under her breath, her lips so close to Bette’s ear that the heat of her own breath bounced back, warming her skin. “We really shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Why not?” Bette asked, those brown eyes imploring, a smile sitting on her pretty face. “BecauseIthink that this is exactly what we should be doing.”
“What if someone comes in?” Emily whispered, glancing at the curtains that separated one treatment bed from the other. Just past them was the gym, and beyond that, the exit leading into the third-floor hallway of Oakridge Hospital.
“Let them,” Bette said, reaching for Emily’s hips, and pulling her closer. “Who doesn’t love a little risk? Makes the feeling seem more…”
“Exhilarating,” Emily finished. Everything about this was exhilarating. The way she pushed Bette back onto the plinth, the way she climbed onto her lap, straddling the physical therapist. The way Bette drew her closer, sliding her hands under Emily’s shirt, fingers fanning across her ribs.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since we bumped into each other at the beach,” Emily muttered breathily, her face inches from Bette. “Or maybe even before that.”
Bette’s eyes were stuck on Emily’s lips when she said, “Well, then why don’t you stop speaking and kiss me.”
Their lips collided. Bette’s mouth closed around Emily’s bottom lip, her tongue slipping into the space where a gasp had just been and her teeth nibbled just enough to make Emily’s breath snag and a spark zip down her spine.
