Читать книгу The Rebel Doc Who Stole Her Heart - Susan Carlisle - Страница 8

EARLY THE NEXT morning, Michelle tapped lightly on the door of her first case for the day.

Shawn Russell. Twenty years old. His procedure would be difficult. As a congenital heart patient he’d grown up in the hospital system and would never really leave it. Shawn was quite unhappy with the prospect of having surgery again. This time he needed to have the heart valve he’d outgrown replaced. Not a demanding surgery in most patients but in those with multiple surgeries the development of scar tissue added a degree of difficulty.

At the sound of “Come in”, Michelle pushed the door open further. The room was filled with people, undoubtedly family and friends. Dr. Smith stood beside Shawn’s bed with his back to her. Having only known him a day, she still recognized his dark hair and broad back.

He glanced around. “Good morning, Dr. Ross. We were just talking about you,” he said with a grin.

Michelle raised an uncertain brow. Never a fan of people discussing her, she wasn’t sure she was happy with what Dr. Smith might have been saying.

More than once she’d heard the whispers after she’d gone by the nurses’ desk. But instead of those negative thoughts his grin brought back memories of their conversation the evening before when he’d announced unabashedly that he was in the shower. He’d been trying to get a reaction out of her. She planned to see he didn’t get one.

“I was checking on Shawn to see if he had any questions for me before he goes into the OR,” Dr. Smith offered.

She nodded. “Good.”

Dr. Smith pushed his dark hair back away from his face. There was nothing conservative about its length or cut. Worn long and being wavy and thick, it curled behind his ears. It was the kind of hair that women envied. He certainly didn’t meet what she considered the standard dress code.

“Did you know that Shawn is a master gamer?”

What was he talking about? “No, I didn’t. That’s great.” She looked at Shawn. “Do you have any questions about the surgery?”

The far-too-thin young man shook his head. “I think my mother does.”

“I’ll go and let Dr. Ross speak to your parents. I’ll see you in the OR in a few minutes. The nurse will give you something to make you happy.” Dr. Smith grinned. “Don’t get too used to it because you don’t get to carry any of it home.” He put out his fist and Shawn butted his against it. “Later, man. Remember you promised me a game.”

“Sure, Dr. Smith.”

“Make it Ty, man. See you soon.”

Shawn nodded and gave him a small smile. For the first time since she’d met Shawn he didn’t look terrified. She and Dr. Smith might have gotten off on the wrong foot but she had to give him kudos for making patients feel comfortable. She would like to be that easy with people but it wasn’t her strong suit.

Half an hour later Michelle entered the OR prep area. Dr. Smith stood at the scrub sink along with three of the OR nurses. The group was chattering non-stop. Dr. Smith seemed to be the ringleader, interjecting a random comment which would bring on a burst of laughter from the women around him.

For the first time Michelle felt like an outsider. She couldn’t remember ever feeling that way so intensely before, or caring. She had no idea how to join their conversation. Worse, she couldn’t understand why all of a sudden she wanted to. What would it be like to belong? To know what was happening in the staff’s lives, for them to know what was happening in hers? Could she ever have that type of relationship with her coworkers? With anyone?

She remembered having friends over to spend the night as a kid. After her father had died that had become less frequent. She’d found out pretty quickly that her friends hadn’t felt comfortable with her any longer. The sadness she’d felt over the loss of her beloved father had been far too much for them. She’d started spending more and more time at home, reading and studying. It had been easier than trying to pretend to be having a good time with people who didn’t understand.

Her father was gone and her friends had slowly left also.

Michelle’s mother had encouraged her to go out to football games, to the prom, but to Michelle all those things had seemed silly. She’d also hated to leave her mother alone. They’d become a team. As the years had gone by Michelle had lost most of her small-talk skills, choosing to focus on medicine instead of a social life. Her mother, school and then her job had taken all her time, leaving little to devote to building outside relationships. There had been a few men who had shown her attention. Most had only been interested in her for her looks. Few had appreciated her intellect. They hadn’t stayed around long.

A second later another nurse joined the group. Dr. Smith did have a way of drawing not only women to him but men as well. People liked him. She had to admit she was as aware of the man as the rest of them. She just refused to let it show, had more command over her reactions.

Unable to wait any longer to scrub in so that she could begin her procedure on time, she stepped towards the sink when a spot became available. Just as she took her place, the group erupted in laughter.

Dr. Smith turned, almost bumping into her. “Hey, Michelle.”

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the other women drifting away. She placed a foot on the pedal to start the water. “Hi,” she said, concentrating on washing.

“We were just talking about getting together tonight at a bar downtown. I’ve been asked to fill in as part of the surgeons’ band.”

“You play?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I play a mean guitar. I think that’s why Schwartz requested me to take his place. More for my guitar skills than my medical ones.”

“I didn’t know Dr. Schwartz played in the band.”

Had he said he wasn’t surprised? She refused to let him make her feel like she didn’t belong. “No, it doesn’t surprise me that you play guitar. I was just making conversation.”

“Interesting. You don’t strike me as someone who makes small talk.” Was he trying to needle her on purpose?

“I don’t believe you know me well enough to know what I do.”

He pressed his lips together and nodded as if in deep thought. “You’re right. Maybe we should try to change that.”

Michelle looked at him. Where was this going?

“A group of us are getting together after the band plays on Saturday night. Why don’t you join us then? Practice that small talk.”

“I’m busy.”

“Well, if your plans change we’re going to be at Buster’s. Wherever that is.”

“It’s right in the central part of the old city.”

“A surgeon and a tour guide. Two for one,” he said with a grin.

She smirked at him. “My father used to take me there for burgers when I was a kid.” Why was she telling him this?

“Really, your father took you to a bar?” His tone implied he was teasing.

She made an exasperated noise. “My father would never have taken me to a bar.”

Dr. Smith chuckled. The man was baiting her again. Wasn’t he ever serious?

“It wasn’t a bar then. Just a grill. Mr. Roberts owned the place and was a friend of my father’s. I don’t know what it’s like now, but it was once a place with brick walls and had these old wooden tables.”

“You haven’t been lately?”

“Not since I was a child.”

“Why not?”

“I just hadn’t thought about going.” That wasn’t true. It had been her and her father’s special place. The memories were just too strong there. They made her miss her father more.

“Maybe it’s time to try it again.”

She finished scrubbing her nails. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I hope you change your mind. It could be fun. If they still have burgers, I’ll buy you one,” he said, passing her on his way toward the OR.

A few minutes later she entered behind him. The team was talking and softly laughing at something Ty must have said. He seemed to always be saying something outrageous. She couldn’t blame her team for reacting. She’d smiled more since she’d met him than she had in a long time, but her nerves had been on edge just as often.

Everyone quieted down and became attentive when she joined them. “Are we ready to begin? By the way, it’s nice to see you here ahead of me, Dr. Smith.” Her voice carried a teasing tone. She didn’t tease. What was happening to her?

“Glad to be here. This time I wasn’t stuck helping out at a car accident.” His gaze caught and held hers.

He’d made his point. It figured he’d have a good reason that would make her feel bad about her actions the day before. “Understandable. I hope everyone was okay.”

“Everyone was fine. I’m ready to begin when you are, Michelle.” His eyes twinkled when he said her name.

Her jaw tightened beneath her mask. Demanding that the aggravating man call her by her formal name in the OR was a battle she didn’t think she could win. She’d let it go unless it happened at an improper time, like in front of a patient.

She glanced around to find all eyes on her. Their faces were covered but she had a sense that their mouths had dropped open. She imagined they were following the interaction between her and Ty with great interest.

Unwilling to let the team know he’d gotten a reaction out of her, she cleared her throat and said in her most efficient tone, “Let’s begin.”

Later, Ty sat behind the nurses’ station on the heart floor, reviewing patient charts before his pre-op visits. He and Michelle would share three cases the next day. Finished with the chart he’d been reviewing, he closed it as the clip-clip of heels tapping tiles drew his attention. He looked up to see Michelle coming towards him. Her hair was pulled tight behind her head and she was dressed in soft gray pants with a silky pale pink blouse. Over that she wore a finely pressed lab jacket. There wasn’t a wrinkle on it and he’d bet a weeks’ pay it was starched. Her high heels were the same dove-gray as her pants except for the tips of the toes, which were hot pink.

Disappointment filled him over missing a view of her legs. She had exceptionally fine legs.

For such a strong-willed woman she sure wore feminine colors. This outfit was just as tailored as yesterday’s, letting no one mistake her as anything other than a female. She was a paradox. All hard edges in manner and all soft and sensual curves in looks. Which was the truer Michelle? He’d like to know.

She glanced in his direction. When he smiled she quickly looked away and continued towards the room of one of her cases. He returned his attention to the computer screen and the chart of his next patient.

Opening another file, he looked up to see the nurse assigned to Shawn stamping toward the desk. Her lips were clamped into a tight, thin line. She stopped in front of the nurse sitting two chairs down from him. Through clenched teeth she hissed, “Abby, please watch my patient for a few minutes. The ice queen is riding her broom again.”

The nurse she spoke to looked none too happy but she said, “Okay. But don’t be long. I don’t want to be in her line of fire either.”

“I just need to blow off some steam for a minute. At least she has moved on to poor Robin’s patient.”

Ty saw Michelle approaching, but the two nurses had not. He didn’t miss the look of glass-shard pain in Michelle’s eyes before she blinked and her face became an unemotional mask. He had no doubt she’d heard every word. It had hurt her. By the look in her eyes—deeply.

“Excuse me, if you are not too busy, could you get me a number where I can reach Shawn’s family?”

The first nurse wheeled about, shock covering her face. “Uh, yes, yes, ma’am. I have it in the chart.”

The nurse must have forgotten about blowing off steam because she hurried to pull up the chart on one of the computers behind the desk.

Ty focused his attention on Michelle but she didn’t even glance at him.

The nurse handed a slip of paper to Michelle.

“Thank you,” she said stiffly.

She walked off. For once Ty felt sorry for her.

Not long afterwards, Ty started his pre-op rounds, visiting the patients on the next day’s surgery schedule. One of them was running a fever. He’d have to speak to Michelle about postponing surgery at least a day.

He could call her but after what had happened earlier he felt compelled to talk to her personally. Just for a second when she’d turned to leave he’d seen a crack in her mask, a deep sadness. He asked a nurse where to find her office. While he walked down the long hall in that direction, he told himself that he would be concerned about anyone who might have had their feelings hurt so publicly. It had nothing to do with Michelle in particular. He made a point not to get involved on a personal level. So why had her reaction gotten to him?

Stopping at the woodgrained door with her name on a plate beside it, he tapped. Seconds later a subdued, “Come in,” reached his ears.

Opening the door, he stepped in. The blast of color before him made him jolt to a stop. The walls of Michelle’s office were a warm yellow but what really got his attention was the huge bright red poppy painting hanging behind Michelle’s head. That, he hadn’t expected. The woman just got more interesting all the time. Her desk was the traditional hospital style but on it were modern office supplies, not typical business issue. There were two bright ultra-modern chairs covered in a fabric that coordinated with the painting and the color of the walls in front of her desk. This was obviously her haven.

Michelle’s eyes widened when she saw him. They were bloodshot, pink-rimmed. His gut squeezed. She’d been crying. She wouldn’t be happy he’d noticed either. He moved toward her desk.

“What can I help you with, Dr. Smith?” Her flat tone said she wanted to get rid of him as quickly as possible.

“Please make it Ty.”

With a sound of annoyance she said, “Is there a problem … Ty?”

Michelle said his name as if it was painful. She still resisted any relationship that being on a first-name basis implied.

“Mr. Marcus has spiked a fever.” He glanced down at the garbage can sitting beside her desk. Inside were Cellophane wrappers and white paper squares. She’d been eating chocolate cake rolls, no doubt feeding her emotions. So the woman was undeniably human.

When his gaze came back up it was seconds before hers met his. It quickly fluttered away again.

“I’m sorry you overheard them.” He didn’t take his eyes off her.

She didn’t question to what he referred. Instead, she sat straighter and said, “We need to start Mr. Marcus on prophylactic antibiotics and postpone his surgery until the day after tomorrow.”

“I agree.”

“Is there anything further?” Michelle shifted some papers on her desk that he suspected she really hadn’t been working on. She was trying to get him to leave without coming out and saying it. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to just forget that she’d been crying before he’d entered the office. Despite her less than warm demeanor toward him, he wanted to help her. He wanted to peel away the layers and find out what made the woman tick.

“I can see that you’ve already had dessert but I was wondering if you might like to grab a meal with me. I heard there is a place not far from here that serves a great roast-beef platter.”

She looked up at him as if he had snakes in his hair. “No, thank you. I have work to do.”

“Then maybe another time.”

“I don’t think so.”

He leaned his hip against her desk and looked down at where she sat. She glared at him pointedly.

“What sticks in your craw about me? Or is it you can’t stand anyone?” He raised a hand to stop her from interrupting. “It’s none of my business, and you can pretend differently, but I know your feelings were hurt a while ago. All you have to do is show them that you’re human. Smile, ask about their families. Win them over a little.”

Michelle stood with a jerk. Placing both hands on the edge of her desk, she leaned towards him. “You think I don’t know what the staff thinks about me? It isn’t my job to be friends with them. My patients’ care comes first and foremost. How dare you come in and try to tell me how to run my life? I don’t need some flit-in and flit-out doctor to tell me how I need to interact with the nurses.”

A slow grinned came to his lips. He’d expected her righteous indignation. “I’m just saying you can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar.”

She sputtered her disgust as he turned to leave.

At two in the morning Michelle pushed open the door of the physicians’ entrance to the hospital and stepped out into the night. Her team had been called in to handle an emergency. Thankfully she didn’t do too much surgery in the early hours of the morning. A hospital took on an other-world feeling late at night. Spooky yet peaceful.

She was so tired she hadn’t bothered to change out of her scrubs. Something that rarely happened. Her hair was still pulled back and secured by a rubber band, producing a small ponytail that brushed her neck. Holding her small purse in her hand, she was taking her first step towards her car when the door behind her opened. She jumped. Glancing back, she saw Ty. In one way it was a relief that it wasn’t someone with nefarious ideas; in another he wasn’t her favorite person.

This was the first time outside the OR she’d seen him since their conversation, turned blow-out on her part, hours earlier. She had cooled off but she still didn’t know why he thought he had the right to offer her advice. Especially the unsolicited kind.

She started walking.

“Nice work in there, Michelle,” he called.

She stopped and looked back at him. The lighting in the parking area wasn’t dim enough to disguise his drained stance. For once he wasn’t being upbeat and bubbly. He seemed as tired as she was. He’d changed out of his scrubs and now wore a light-colored T-shirt that fit his muscular shoulders far too tightly for her not to notice. A pair of baggy cargo shorts and sandals finished off his outfit.

On anyone else those clothes might have looked like those of a bum, but on Ty they added to his bad-boy sex appeal. His hair was no longer tied back, like he’d worn it under his surgery cap. Instead, it looked as if he’d pushed his hands through it and let it go. He looked untamed and wild.

“Whew, this early-morning stuff isn’t as easy as it used to be in med school. Who I’m I trying to kid? It wasn’t easy then.” He came to stand beside her.

Did he think that she was going to act as if nothing had happened between them? “No, it wasn’t.” She started walking again.

“Michelle, wait.”

She stopped and turned again. “Why? So you can tell me what I need to do?”

“Ooh, so the woman can carry a grudge.”

“I’m not carrying a grudge! I just don’t like people butting into my business.”

“Maybe you just don’t like people,” he said in an even tone.

She stepped toward him. “I do like people.”

“Then prove it.”

“Prove it?” What was he talking about?

“Yeah. Say one nice thing about me.”

She let out a dry chuckle.

He tilted his head and studied her. “You know, I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you approach anything near a laugh.”

“I laugh.”

“When? When no one is around?” he asked, moving passed her.

“Are you trying to start an argument?”

He paused this time. “No, I was trying to give you a compliment. Maybe flirt with you a little.”

“I don’t want you flirting with me.”

“Why not?”

She pinned him with a look. Even in the faint light she could see his wicked grin. She had no doubt that his eyes were twinkling. “Because nothing about you says you’re serious about anything.”

“That’s not true. I’m always serious about caring for my patients.”

“You know what I mean. All the nurses flock to you. I’ve even seen women from different departments come to the floor who have never been there before to see or hopefully be seen by Ty Smith.”

“Hey, you can’t fault me for that.”

He was right, but she wasn’t becoming one of his groupies. “Why don’t you make their day by flirting with them and leave me alone?”

“Because you doth protest too much. You’re far too much fun to tease. I can always count on a pretty blush and a sharp rebuttal. You challenge my mind.”

“Humph.” She started walking toward her car. “So you’ve decided I’m going to be your entertainment while you’re in town. I’m not flattered.”

He fell into step beside her. “The way you say it doesn’t make it sound too nice. Like I’m pulling wings off butterflies. Has it ever occurred to you that I might be attracted to you?”

“No.”

“No.” He voice held total disbelief. “You don’t think I could be attracted to you or, no, you don’t think I’m attracted to you?”

“Both.”

“My, you’re mighty cynical for such a beautiful and intelligent woman.”

She put her hands on her hips and really looked at him. “Ty, I’m no one’s good-time girl. I already have enough worries, without adding you to my list.”

“Don’t you ever just want to have a good time?”

“I don’t have time for a good time.” She clicked the fob to unlock her car then opened the door.

“Hey, you never said what you like about me.”

She slipped under the wheel. “Goodnight, Ty.” And closed the door.

Looking into the rear-view window, she saw him saunter over to where a motorcycle was parked. He had a loose-hipped walk that belied his size. Letting him get into her head wasn’t a good idea.

She stuck her key into the ignition and turned it. A clicking noise was all that happened. She tried it again. The engine refused to start.

The zoom of a motorcycle being turned off made her look into the mirror. Ty was getting off his bike and putting the kickstand down. She opened the car door. “The battery is dead.”

He stepped closer. “You’ve had trouble with it before?”

“Yeah. It was a little slow to start when I headed here. I was going to have it seen to tomorrow.”

“Well, it looks like you’re going to need a ride home.”

She searched for her phone. “I’ll call a taxi.”

“I’ll give you a lift.”

“I don’t think so. I’ll just wait here for a taxi.”

“Be realistic, Michelle. How long do you think it will take for a taxi to show up at this hour? And you’re sure as heck not going to sit in a dark parking lot and wait.”

“I can go inside.”

“Come on. Let me give you a drive home. I’ll ride slowly. No fancy moves.”

Still unsure, she was exhausted and the thought of having to wait another hour or longer to head home wasn’t appealing. She grabbed her purse as she climbed out of the car. “Okay, but no nonsense. I saw one too many motorcycle victims when I was doing my ER rotation.”

“I promise, only one wheelie.”

“What?” She stepped back, planning to refuse to get on.

“Kidding. Just kidding.”

Ty was pleased he hadn’t had to do a more convincing job of selling Michelle on the idea of riding on his bike. Most women he’d known had seemed to be fascinated by the prospect. It was part of his mystique. For him, it was cheap and easy transportation. Apparently Michelle wasn’t impressed one way or another with his air of mystery. For some reason he wished she was, but was glad she wasn’t. He never dipped below the surface of his emotions and he didn’t want anyone else to do it either.

He unlocked the seat compartment, pulled out a spare helmet and offered it to her. His hand remained suspended in mid-air for a moment before she took it. She made no further movement.

“You do know that you have to put it on to ride? It’s the law.”

She look around as if there might be a state trooper watching.

He shoved his hair back, preparing to slip on his own helmet. Michelle remained rooted to the spot as if she couldn’t make up her mind whether or not this was a good idea. “Are you coming or not?” Again she scanned the parking lot like she was hoping for any other option. Taking a deep breath, she put the helmet on her head. It wouldn’t go into place because of her hair.

“Here, let me help you.” He lifted the helmet off her head and reached around to release her hair. He could feel her breath on his neck.

She bent her torso away from him. “What’re you doing?”

“Trying to get your head into this helmet. Your hair is stopping it from going on.”

“Oh.”

“What did you think I was doing? Making a play for you?”

“No.”

“Yes, you did.” He looked her straight in the eyes, wishing the streetlights were brighter. “If and when I make a play for you, you won’t need to question what I’m doing. It will be perfectly clear.” With great satisfaction he watched her throat bob up and down. “Now I’m tired and I’m hungry. If you would like me to take you home you’re going to have to let me help you with the helmet. Of course, I can also escort you to the lobby so you can wait for a taxi there. Either way, I’d like to get a move on.”

She pulled the rubber band out of her hair and plopped the helmet down on her head.

So the ice queen responded to authority.

“I’m going to fix the chin strap now,” he said in an exaggerated voice, as if speaking to a child.

“Stop making fun of me. I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”

She gave him such a pointed look of defiance that he wanted to take off the helmet and kiss her.

“I’m still not sure you’re the one I want to take my first ride with.”

He chuckled as he picked up his helmet from the handlebars. “I promise it will be a ride to remember.” After slipping on his helmet, he said, “Hand me your purse. I’ll put it under the seat.”

Michelle did so, after only a moment of hesitation. Storing the purse and closing the seat, he then threw a leg over the bike, pushed the kickstand up and revved the engine. The bike roared to life. He looked back over his shoulder. “By the definition of ride, you have to get on first.”

She lifted a leg over the seat. He had the sense that she was making every effort not to touch him. When she tottered, a hand gripped his shoulder then was gone, only to return just as quickly. He’d watched those long, delicate fingers do meticulous surgery. Now he felt their strength. What would it be like to have her want to touch him all over?

She pulled her hands away again as she settled on the bike.

“You need to move up close and hang on or you’ll fall off the back.”

Michelle shifted closer but acted as if she was making sure her legs didn’t touch his. She held a fistful of shirt in each hand, instead of wrapping her hands around his waist.

“Ready?”

She nodded.

“Okay. Here we go.” He clicked the bike into gear, let off the hand clutch and the bike moved across the lot. Less than five seconds later Michelle’s arms had his waist in a death grip. Her thighs squeezed his where they met, and her face and chest were plastered to his back.

His manhood rose in response. He sucked in a breath. This had been such a bad idea on so many levels. The woman was terrified and he was turned on.

He took his hand off the handlebars long enough to pat her knee. “You’re doing great.”

As he turned right out of the parking lot, he realized he had no idea where she lived. He’d spent so much time trying to convince her to get on the bike that he’d forgotten to ask for directions. “Which way is your house?” he called over his shoulder.

There was no answer.

“Point in the direction I need to go.”

Again he heard nothing.

“Michelle, we can’t just drive around all night. You have to tell me where you live.”

She lifted one finger against his stomach and pointed ahead.

“I’m going the right way?”

She nodded against his back.

It was far too late for word games. He needed directions and she seemed incapable of giving them. Just up the street was the bright sign of an all-night diner. He was hungry and because they had done surgery tonight they wouldn’t be required to be at the hospital until the day after tomorrow. They had time to stop.

He pulled into the parking lot and under the glaring lights. As he eased the bike to a stop, Michelle’s grip on him slackened. He missed her warm, soft breasts pressed tightly against him. As if she realized she was still holding onto him, her arms fell away and she pushed back on the seat.

“What’re we doing here?”

“Getting some breakfast.”

“I want to go home.”

“In that case, you’re going to have to tell me how to get there. Which you couldn’t do on the bike. So while you give me directions, I’m going to get some eggs and bacon. Care to join me?”

Once again she looked unsure. It always caught him by surprise because she was so formidable in the OR. Maybe the overconfident woman wasn’t so self-assured after all.

“I am kind of hungry.”

She put one foot on the ground and grabbed his shoulder as she brought the other over. He climbed off. Michelle was already in the process of removing her helmet. When she got it off he took it from her and laid it beside his on the seat.

The diner looked like it had been around forever. It was a fifties-type place with silver siding, orange bench seats, and Formica tabletops. He loved the place already.

He held the door open for Michelle. Her hair was mussed and she still wore green scrubs but that didn’t detract from her stately walk or good looks. She could have been a conquering queen by the way she held herself. What made her even more eye-catching was that it was a natural part of who she was, nothing conceited about it.

There were only a handful of people in the place but all eyes turned to her. She ignored them and scooted into the first booth she came to. Ty moved in across from her.

“I thought you might like to sit where you can see your bike.”

“Good plan.”

“How long have you been riding?” she asked as she picked up a plastic-covered menu.

“Since I was about sixteen.”

“That young?” Her eyes widened.

“Yeah. I had to have a way to get to and from school.”

She looked up over the menu. “Your parents let you have a motorcycle at that age?”

“No, my grandfather did.” Whoa, she’d already gotten more personal information out of him than most people did. Usually he steered the conversation away from himself but Michelle wasn’t giving him a chance to as she shot off another question.

“How did your parents feel about that?”

“They didn’t care.”

She looked down at the double-sided card in her hand and mumbled, “I sure would have.”

“They weren’t around to care.” Bitterness filled his voice but, then, it always did when he spoke about his parents. Which he rarely did.

Thankfully the server approached their table. She was in her mid-forties, slightly overweight and had her thin hair tied back in a ponytail. “What you have?”

“Hi, there. I’ll have the breakfast platter. Eggs over easy.”

When the woman looked at her, Michelle said, “And I’d like the mile-high pancakes.”

Ty smiled up at the server. “And a large pot of fresh coffee.”

The woman smiled. “Coming up.”

“You’re amazing. That woman looked so sour when she came over to take our order and she leaves smiling because she has spoken to you.”

“Why, thank you. Nothing but the power of Ty.”

“The power of Ty, uh? Ty is a nickname, isn’t it? I’d guess your full name is Tyrone.”

Michelle was being unusually chatty. Maybe it was the late hour, maybe she was hungry or maybe it was the fact she was stuck with him. Normally he would have complained about all the personal questions but he found he didn’t want to give her a reason to stop. It was good and bad. He liked her attention too much and she was uncovering his secrets.

“I was named after Tyrone, Georgia.”

“Why after a town?’

“Because my parents were passing through it when my mother went into labor. You sure are full of questions.”

“It’s interesting. I’ve never known anyone named after a town. So you were born in Tyrone.”

Ty hesitated a moment before he said more. He’d told maybe three other people about his birth. “No, I was born in a stand of trees beside a cotton field.”

“What?”

“My parents didn’t believe in going to the hospital.” He put his fingers in the air to make quotation marks. “Birth is a natural process. You don’t need a hospital for that.”

“In this day and age I can’t imagine that happening.”

For Joey no doctor and no hospital, going all natural, had been a death sentence. Ty had seen to it that he was no longer associated with those ideas. “Well, it didn’t just happen yesterday. I am thirty-four years old.” Okay, now he’d said enough. For someone who had a difficult time building relationships at work, Michelle sure had him spilling his guts.

“You know what I mean. Medicine has advanced so far. We know so much more than we used to.”

“Yeah, science has come a long way but not everyone embraces it, neither does it have all the answers.” That statement made it sound like he was defending his parents, which he certainly was not.

Michelle’s eyes went dark and a sheen of moisture covered them before she blinked. What had she been thinking about to bring that on?

Her eyes rose to meet his. They held a stricken look for a second before her gaze focused downward. Had he stumbled on a secret? He didn’t want to look into anyone’s dark closet.

To his great relief, the server returned to place Michelle’s plate down in front of her then his in front of him. Now he’d make an effort to turn the conversation to something less personal and certainly more pleasant.

“Whoo, comfort food. I might think you’re feeding your emotions.”

“I like pancakes. Nothing special there.”

He was beginning to think there were a number of things special about Michelle.

“Still an amazing amount of food for such a shapely woman.”

“Shapely?”

“Don’t try to act like you don’t know you’re a fine-looking woman.”

“Thank you,” she said in a humble-sounding voice.

“How do you stay in such good shape?”

“I swim laps three times a week and I have good genes. My mother …”

She put a bit of pancake in her mouth but he had the feeling she had purposely decided not to say more.

“Interesting. I took you for a gym rat. But on second thoughts that would be far too sociable for you.”