Too hot to sleep (4 page)

It was. Although he didn’t know much about dogs, this one appeared to be a mutt. Multicolored long hair
covered its body, although its face was broad and blunt. He wore no collar. When Ken stroked its back, the dog opened his eyes and whined, then tried to stand, only to collapse, emitting painful little barks.

“Sorry, boy,” he murmured, aware of a crowd gathering around. One of the dog’s legs bent at an odd angle, and he was bleeding badly from the hip. Gathering his wits, Ken looked around and spied the entrance to the County Hospital emergency room less than a half block away. Perhaps someone there could at least stop the bleeding until he could transport the dog to a veterinary clinic.

Decision made, he tied a handkerchief around the dog’s muzzle to keep him from biting in his pain, then bundled the dog into the back seat of his squad car. He covered its trembling form with a blanket from the trunk, knowing the gesture probably gave him more comfort that it gave the dog. He hoped against hope he hadn’t mortally wounded the poor pooch. Ken slid into his seat, and zeroed in on the emergency room entrance. He’d find help there.

“S
EE YOU TOMORROW
,”
Georgia called to a co-worker as she walked toward the E.R. exit.

What a ghastly day. She removed her name badge and her pace quickened at the thought of talking to Rob. After mulling the matter for hours, she’d decided that he couldn’t have feigned his responses last night. She knew abandon when she heard it, and he’d had it in spades. He’d probably already left her a message at home.

The service door next to the stairs burst open and a tall uniformed police officer emerged carrying a small body wrapped in a blanket. “He ran in front of my car,” he said, his chest heaving. “He’s bleeding, and I think his leg is broken.”

Adrenaline and years of training took over and she bolted into action, waving him toward a triage room and yelling ahead as she jogged beside him. “We have a small victim who was struck by a car! Which room is available?”

“Three,” the clerk said, handing her a chart as she passed. People parted and Georgia looked for the attending doctor as she led the way into the empty room. “Somebody get Dr. Story,” she called before the door closed, then automatically grabbed a pair of surgical gloves from an overflowing box.

She felt a split second of sympathy for the broad-shouldered police officer who lowered his bundle gently onto the examining table. His shirt was bloodstained and his face was creased with worry that pulled at her heart.
This
was the basis of E.R. medicine.
This
was how she could make a difference in the world. She felt an instant bond with the man. He, too, was in the business of saving lives.

“Do you have the victim’s name?” she asked, stepping forward.

“No,” the officer said, then pulled back the blanket. “He wasn’t wearing a collar.”

Georgia froze as she surveyed the hairy mass. “It’s a dog.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

His Southern manners aside, exasperation puffed her cheeks as the bond between them vanished with a poof. She stripped off the surgical gloves and strove to keep her voice even. “We treat people here, Officer, not animals.”

He frowned. “Can’t you make an exception?”

“Absolutely,” she said ruefully, “if I wanted to lose my job.” She stepped to the door and yelled, “Cancel the call for Dr. Story.” Turning back to the dark-haired policeman, she pulled her most professional face. “We have health codes to maintain. You, of all people, should know that.”

His dark eyebrows knitted and he adopted a wide-legged stance. “You could at least bandage the cut.”

Her heart went out to the poor dog, and she crossed her arms to keep from following her instincts to heal. She also had instincts to eat, pay rent and not default
on school loans, which would be difficult to satisfy if she were fired. Even after a year, she was still considered a greenhorn in emergency medicine. Dr. Story watched her like a hawk. A flagrant violation like this one could be the end of her career at County Hospital, a stain on her record. Georgia swallowed and averted her gaze. “I’m sorry—hospital procedures. The veterinary clinic on Sixteenth Street is the closest facility.”

The officer’s anger was palpable. But instead of leaving, he turned and scanned the shelves of supplies, his big hands touching everything.

“What are you doing?”

“What
you
should be doing,” he growled, then yanked a roll of gauze from a box and unrolled several lengths.

She opened her mouth to protest, then realized the futility of arguing with a man twice her size, with three times the determination. Georgia hung back, but as he clumsily wrapped the gauze around the dog’s body, something…happened. Unexpected warmth and admiration expanded her chest. The man hadn’t a clue what to do, but was driven to act. However misguided, she couldn’t help but respect his zeal. When he unwound another twenty feet or so of the gauze, she shook her head. Just like a man to overdo.

“That’s enough,” she said quietly.

He glanced up, his eyes flashing, ready for battle.

“He won’t be able to breathe,” she added, then donned more gloves and found tape and scissors. With resignation that she’d probably get written up and reprimanded, if not out-and-out fired, Georgia leaned forward and finished the bandaging, then gave
the animal a perfunctory examination. The dog and the cop were wide-eyed and silent, but she could feel the man’s anger had dissipated. “Officer—?”

“Medlock,” he supplied.

“Officer Medlock, my knowledge of a dog’s anatomy is limited, but it appears he does indeed have a broken leg. He might have a broken rib or two as well, but his breathing is good, so I don’t believe his lungs were punctured. There’s no blood in the mouth, nose, or ears, so if he has internal bleeding, it does not seem to be profuse. And that—” she stepped back and peeled off her gloves “—is absolutely all I can do.”

He smiled suddenly and her breath caught in appreciation. Officer Medlock was a great-looking man. Pushy, but great-looking. When she realized she was staring, embarrassment swept over her. Her appreciation of his masculinity was stirred only because of her state of…stirredness.

“Thank you, Dr.—?”

“I’m an R.N.,” she said. “Nurse Adams.”

“Nurse Adams,” he repeated. “Thank you for giving me peace of mind, ma’am.”

Her pulse kicked higher under his scrutiny. Few, if any, grown men called her “ma’am.” It was kind of…pleasurable. “You’re welcome. Now please get out of here while I still have a job.”

Ken tried to study the woman’s face without appearing to. Her dark blue eyes were heavy-lidded and astonishing, and her mouth…The woman had that fresh-faced, girl-next-door vitality that provoked neighboring boys to buy binoculars. He mentally shook himself, realizing that last night’s incognito
phone call was behind his heightened awareness. The dog whined, reminding him of his immediate priority. Gently, he rewrapped the animal and lifted the bundle from the table.

The nurse held open the door. “I was just going off duty,” she said with the barest hint of a smile. “I’ll show you the exit.”

“To guarantee I make it out of here?” he asked wryly.

“Something like that.”

As he laughed good-naturedly, she removed a leather shoulder bag from behind a counter, then told a clerk she was leaving and ordered an immediate disinfecting of exam room three. As she joined him, he was overwhelmed with the urge to know her, to find out if she were involved with anyone. He scoffed inwardly. Of course someone as beautiful as she would already be involved, maybe married, and probably to a doctor who earned ten times as much as a policeman. Ken tried to keep the dog’s head covered as they headed toward the exit so he wouldn’t get the woman into trouble, but the poor mutt whined most of the way, raising eyebrows. His unwilling cohort kept her eyes averted and walked swiftly.

“Georgia!”

At the sound of the name that had been on the periphery of his brain all day, Ken halted midstride. The woman next to him hesitated, then kept going.

“Georgia!” someone repeated, louder. He turned to see a plump woman jogging toward them. The comely nurse turned as well.

Ken’s feet stopped moving as his brain tried to as
similate the information. This woman’s name was Georgia? He’d never met anyone named Georgia. What were the chances he’d meet two in less than twenty-four hours? He zeroed in on her voice and tried to match hers with the one running through his head. It was possible—he almost laughed—but highly unlikely.

Still, his mind raced for a logical-sounding question that might help him determine if this fabulous-looking woman was the same…No, she simply couldn’t be.

“Get out of here,” she hissed out of the side of her mouth.

But his feet refused to move.

“Georgia,” the woman gasped, lumbering to a halt in front of them. Then she zeroed in on the whining blanket. “Is that a
dog?
”

“Melanie, did you need something?” Nurse Adams asked her, while frowning at him and nodding toward the exit.

The other woman craned her neck, eyes alight with curiosity, then handed his companion a yellow sticky-note. “I almost forgot to give you this message. Rob phoned and said he was called out of town unexpectedly.”

Ken swallowed and nearly dropped his patient.
Rob?

H
IS TONGUE HAD
turned to cotton. Ken stared at the woman he’d just met as she read the note in her hand.
This
gorgeous woman was the same silky-throated creature who had roused him from sleep last night? His skin tingled with revelation. He glanced up, expecting a spotlight to be shining on his guilt-ridden head.

“Thank you, Melanie,” she said tersely, then proceeded through the door, seemingly lost in thought.

But Ken wasn’t ready to let Nurse Georgia Adams walk out of his life. He hurried forward, mindful of the bundle in his arms. “Wait!”

She turned back, but seemed less than thrilled to see him still standing there. “As I said, Officer, the vet clinic is on Sixteenth Street. You don’t need an appointment.”

He tilted his head, desperate to extend their conversation. “D-don’t I know you from somewhere?”

She looked perplexed. “I don’t think so. I’ve never been in trouble with the police.”

“Georgia Adams,” he murmured to himself, pretending to mull her identity, when in truth, he simply liked the way her name rolled off his tongue. “Georgia Adams…”

“Maybe you’ve seen me in the halls of the hospital,” she offered.

“Wait a minute,” he said, improvising. “I know a guy named Rob who dates a woman named Georgia.”

She took a half step toward him. “Rob Trainer?”

Ah, the identity of the unwittingly deprived boyfriend. “Um, yes.” He shifted the dog’s weight to his left side while he extended his right hand. “Ken Medlock.”

She hesitated, then placed her soft, healing hand in his. “How do you do, Officer Medlock.”

“Ken is fine,” he said, reluctantly releasing her hand.

“I’ll tell Rob I ran into you when he returns from his business trip.”

Uh-oh. “Well, he might not remember me—I’ve only spoken to him a couple of times…casually.” He swallowed. “At the gym?”

“The gym on Arrow Street? Yes, that’s where Rob works out.” She stroked the dog’s ear where the blanket had fallen away. “Poor boy, I hope he’s okay.”

He could only nod, struck dumb by the serendipity that had brought them together. He wasn’t the superstitious type, but it had to be some sort of sign…didn’t it?

“Well,” she said, lifting her hand in a little wave, “good luck. I’m sure the clinic will fix up your friend like new.”

She pivoted on the heels of her sensible white shoes, dragging off a white lab coat to reveal pink scrubs…and a fabulous figure. Her dark hair was pulled into a clasp at the nape of her neck, hanging
midway to her back. Nurse Georgia Adams walked thirty feet away to a bus stop, then settled herself onto a wooden bench to wait, just as if she weren’t the most beautiful woman on the streets of Birmingham.

Then Ken smiled as a snatch of their conversation returned to him.
I’ll tell Rob I ran into you when he returns from his business trip.

The most beautiful woman on the streets of Birmingham was alone for a few days.

The dog whimpered, yanking his good sense back from the gates of Fantasyland. Ken hurried toward his squad car.

G
EORGIA SHIFTED
on the hard bench, her cheeks burning with shame. Since Rob had opted to leave her a message at the hospital instead of talking to her in person, he must be upset over their little “session.” Toni was right; she’d spooked him by being so forward. She read the note again, wishing the hastily scribbled message had divulged where he was going, or even how long he’d be gone.
Called out of town unexpectedly. Rob.

The man’s communication was nothing if not…economical. But Stacey’s wedding was only three days away, and she’d been looking forward to attending it with Rob in the hope that witnessing someone else’s lifetime commitment would shed some light on their own aimless path.

She turned her head and watched Officer Ken Medlock’s broad back receding. He still held the injured dog in his arms, and when a corner of the blanket fell, he tucked it back in place. Georgia smiled, thinking
how few men would have taken the time to aid a wounded animal, especially a big, strapping man. She’d been surprised to hear that he knew Rob. Officer Ken seemed more…earthy…than Rob’s yuppie accountant friends. Of course, he did say they only knew each other from the gym. She frowned just as he rounded the corner and disappeared from view. On the other hand, they must be more than mere acquaintances if Rob had mentioned her name.

Georgia bit into her lower lip, realizing she’d never thought about the kinds of things Rob might say about her to his friends. Would he tell them about the phone sex? She had told Toni, but only because Toni had encouraged her to share her fantasies with Rob in the first place. And she trusted Toni as a confidante.

But the idea of Rob’s friends knowing made her extremely uneasy. Almost as uneasy as the fact that she didn’t know whether Rob would tell them.

In truth, she really didn’t know that much about the habits and acquaintances of the man whom she’d met at the party of a friend of a friend going on ten months ago. They had met over soggy egg rolls and talked about a movie they’d both seen and hated. She hadn’t been bowled over, but he was nice and seemed nonpsychotic—a definite bonus in today’s singles market.

When Rob Trainer had called a week later to invite her to a Chamber of Commerce cocktail party, she’d said yes, and they’d been seeing each other regularly since. Hectic schedules on both their parts had minimized their dating time to scant weekends and occasional day trips out of Birmingham. Yet even when they were together, Rob wasn’t a chatty fellow. His
parents were from Cincinnati, but now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember if he’d ever mentioned siblings.

But still waters ran deep. Rob was a handsome, pleasant man with enough ambition for three people. So what if he wasn’t always thoughtful and romantic—what man was? An unbidden image of Officer Ken’s anxious expression over the injured dog pulled at her heart. Was Rob an animal lover? She doubted it, considering what a neatnik he was. But in her musings, she was starting to realize how few personal details she knew about the man with whom she had initiated phone sex. For all she knew, he could be a serial killer with a low sex drive. Maybe
that
was why he was to familiar Officer Ken.

Then she scoffed at her own silliness. For a straightlaced guy like Rob, a mere parking citation would be tantamount to a public flogging. Rob hadn’t been quite as forthcoming with his background as she’d been with hers, but one thing she did know about her boyfriend—he was by the book.

Er, excluding
The Joy of Sex,
that is.

A staccato honk pulled her gaze from the spot she’d last seen the attractive police officer. The bus driver glared at her through the open door. “You comin’ or not, lady?”

Georgia jumped to her feet and bounded aboard. If she didn’t stop daydreaming, she’d never finish her errands. But even squeezing into a crowded seat among noisy passengers couldn’t distract her from the recollection of Ken Medlock’s rugged frame. Were Rob’s shoulders that wide? She might stop locking her
doors if every Birmingham police officer evoked that kind of security.

With a rueful sigh, she acknowledged the only reason she had responded physically to the uniformed man was that her late-night session with Rob had awakened disobedient places within her. Places that—dwelled upon for mere seconds, like now—sprang to life. Her thighs tingled, her breasts tightened, her stomach clenched. Her gaze remained fixed on the back of the seat in front of her. Her focus blurred, and external noises diminished to a static buzz.

Slices of their chance encounter jumped into her brain randomly, like a trailer to a movie. His square jawline, his broad nose, his sincere eyes.
Nurse Adams, thank you for giving me peace of mind.
His smile, his gratitude for her assistance.
D-don’t I know you from somewhere?

Had he felt it too—a connection? An electric physical attraction born of proximity and a common goal?

She admonished herself for thinking sexy thoughts about a man she just met, but something about Officer Ken Medlock seemed familiar. Or maybe his all-American robust good looks just made him seem approachable, as if he were someone she
should
know—like a handsome man in a magazine ad whose eyes reached out to a woman, telling her she was special and if only he could walk off the page, he would make her his. It could happen.

“Town Center Mall!” the driver shouted, yanking her from her schoolgirl fantasies. Georgia disembarked slowly, still suffering from the surreal effects of her musings, and headed in the direction of a shop
Toni had recommended to buy a dress for Stacey’s wedding. Her friend had described the clothes at Latest & Greatest as “cool duds on the cheap” and insisted Georgia ask for Tom Tom.

But Tom Tom, as it turned out, was
two
men, both named Tom, who were apparently unrelated, yet spoke in tandem.

“Ah, Toni sent you! We have—”

“—exactly what you need for a—”

“—summer afternoon wedding. Won’t you—”

“—follow us?”

Georgia’s gaze bounced back and forth, then she nodded and followed them to a rack of long filmy dresses. They flipped through the hangers, each whipping out a flowing garment.

“The pink stripe will be beautiful—”

“—with your hair. But the yellow—”

“—will set off your lovely—”

“—complexion. Although the blue floral—”

“—is a perfect complement for your eyes.” The men looked at each other, then nodded and said in unison, “The blue floral.”

Not her first choice, Georgia acknowledged silently. In fact, floral prints didn’t even make her short list; she gravitated to solid-colored clothing. But since her opinion obviously didn’t matter, she mutely acquiesced as they shooed her into a dressing room and waited outside, the toes of their pointy shoes tapping. To her surprise, they were right—the blue floral mimicked the indigo of her eyes, and the voluminous fabric fell in feminine folds that skimmed her ankles.

She smiled into the mirror, turning quickly to watch
the delicate hem float on the air. Suddenly, her older sister Fannie came to mind. Georgia had always tagged along to stores and sat in a corner of the dressing room to watch the magical Fannie try on dress after dress for the many dances and parties she attended. She was breathtaking, and possessed an uncanny knack for picking the dress that best showed off her perfect skin and more perfect figure. Their mother would stand behind Fannie in the mirror, beaming as the saleswomen proclaimed Fannie the most beautiful girl they’d ever seen. No one could take their eyes off her, most especially their mother, from whom Fannie had inherited her flashing green eyes and glossy flaxen hair.

Meanwhile, Georgia, being her father’s namesake and sporting her father’s blue eyes and unremarkable brownish hair, withdrew more and more into the background. Once they’d even left her at a department store by accident. Her father, whom she adored, had come to pick her up and had stopped at a pawnshop on the way home to buy a used 35mm camera. Georgia had been hooked instantly. Photography became her escape, her window on the human condition, and a link to her beloved father. He had died from cancer the summer she turned sixteen. She had just learned to drive, she recalled. Funny, but to this day, she’d never gotten her driver’s license.

Her mother loved her; she had simply been preoccupied with Fannie and all that Fannie was. She still was, except now the preoccupation included Fannie’s wealthy husband and their two darling daughters. It was a full-time job for her mother, keeping up with the
accoutrements of Fannie’s charmed life in Denver. Georgia had been left to her own devices, furthering her photography and attending nursing school. One didn’t have to be spectacular looking or musically inclined or a prima ballerina to take pictures, or to be a nurse.

Georgia scrutinized her silhouette and frowned. A darn good thing, too.

“How’s it going in there?” one of the Toms called.

She exhaled and emerged nervously to head-nodding and hmm-hmming.

“Darling, you will—”

“—upstage the bride.”

She smiled, pleased despite their exaggeration. Then, feeling somewhat like a dressmaker’s dummy, she submitted to their tucking and pinning to the tune of snapped fingers and quick sniffs.

“What will your date be wearing?” the taller one asked.

“A suit, I suppose,” she said. If he came, that is.

“A
navy
suit?” the other one asked, his voice suspicious. “He simply must wear navy to complement your dress.”

She nodded mutely. Being a nice dresser, Rob probably had a navy suit in his closet. Georgia frowned. But why did the image of a navy uniform keep popping into her mind?

Both Toms scribbled on a piece of paper. “Go to the accessories department in Elm’s and buy the Derrin straw hat—”

“—with a white band. Then go to footwear and buy the white espadrilles—”

“—with the ankle strap. By the time you get back—”

“—your lovely frock will be ready.”

They smiled in unison and recapped their ink pens. Powerless to disagree in the wake of their frighteningly good taste, she took the piece of paper and stopped herself short of a curtsey before she redonned her scrubs and left the store. Mall merchandising, she suddenly noticed, was all about sex. Loud, pulsing music. Lingerie and skimpy clothing in the windows. Judging from their stiff nipples, even the mannequins were turned on.

Bombarded with erotic cues, she simply couldn’t stop thinking about the phone call. And she couldn’t stop obsessing over Rob’s reaction. Darn Toni for raising the questions in the first place. And darn that Ken Medlock for forcing his way into her impossibly crowded mind. She was suddenly glad she would most likely never see the man again.

As she was told, Georgia headed toward Elm’s and, unfamiliar with the upscale store, meandered around until she found the accessories department. Feeling somewhat conspicuous, she glanced all around before trying on hats in the line the men had suggested.
Which
Derrin straw hat with a white band? There were so many. She tried on style after style, then conceded she hadn’t enjoyed herself so much in a long time. She even loosened the clasp from her hair, toying with the idea of wearing it down for the wedding. At last she settled on a bowler style, crossing her fingers that Tom Tom wouldn’t object to her choice. The espadrilles were fun and comfortable, but a whole heck of a lot
more expensive now than when they were first popular a couple of decades ago.