Crazy Imperfect Love Page 5

  “Well, aren’t most turtles wild?”

  “Don’t ruin this for me, Drake.”

  “Sorry.” I chuckle and hold up my hands. “Keep going.”

  “My eight-year-old self wanted nothing more than to rescue turtles in need. My parents used to laugh at me. Dad always said I’d better get a good job because it was going to be an expensive hobby.”

  “If something happens to you, I solemnly swear to open a turtle sanctuary,” I say, using my finger to make a cross over my heart.

  “Thank you. And if you die tomorrow, what should I do for you?”

  I think back to my childhood, and nothing stands out. For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be a doctor. There were no wild dreams or crazy hopes of rescuing animals or having my own restaurant. I always wanted to save lives.

  “You can build a turtle sanctuary.”

  Abigail tilts her head to the side. “But that’s my dream.”

  “I know. And if I die tomorrow, you can honor me by fulfilling your dream.”

  She watches me for a long moment and then reaches across the table and covers my hand with hers. “You’re one of the good ones, Drake Merritt.”

  I open my mouth to tell her it’s not just me, but her too, and how wonderful we could be together, but I don’t get the chance.

  “Hey, Dr. Merritt,” Jess says, startling Abigail.

  She quickly pulls her hand from mine and shoves it in her lap under the table.

  Jess doesn’t seem to notice, or she doesn’t particularly care. She pulls a notepad from her pocket and a pencil from behind her ear. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “Work has been keeping me busy. Jess, this is my friend Abigail. Abigail, this is Jess, one of John’s granddaughters.”

  Abigail smiles politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “You too,” Jess says, chomping on her gum. “You guys ready to order?”

  “Oh, uh…” Abigail looks around. “We never got menus.”

  Jess frowns, and I intercede. “Do you trust me?”

  Abigail looks from me to Jess and back to me. “Uh…yes?”

  “Come on, you can do better than that. Do you trust me?”

  “Yes!” she chants with the enthusiasm of a high school cheerleader. “I trust you.”

  I look at Jess to order our meals, but I can’t even concentrate because now all I can think about is Abigail in a tiny cheerleading outfit. And then it’s visions of bending her over, wrapping her ponytail around my hand, flipping that skirt up, and burying myself in her tight heat. She’d chant my name the same way—

  A voice clears.

  I blink and look up to find Jess staring at me. “We’ll both have a number six.”

  “What’s a number six?” Abigail asks when Jess walks away.

  “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  Chapter 6

  Abby

  “That was the best bacon cheeseburger I’ve ever had. When you told me to trust you, I thought you were going to order something crazy.”

  “I wasn’t sure if you were the type to order a salad, and I really wanted you to try the burger because it is the best.”

  Scrunching my nose, I shake my head. “I’m addicted to all things greasy, fatty, and loaded with way too much sugar.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Just then the bell on the front door chimes and a group of people walk in. They wave at Drake as they take their seats on the opposite side of the room.

  “Is it okay that we’re here together?” I ask, leaning toward the table.

  “Of course. That’s Janice Ditmer, her oldest son, Jack, and his wife, Carly. Trust me, they don’t care who I’m here with—not that it’s any of their business.”

  “I know, but I don’t want you to get in trouble for being here with me. What if someone from the hospital sees us here together?”

  “We’re not doing anything wrong, Abigail. We’re having dinner.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m positive. Now, what should we have for dessert?”

  My eyes widen. “How can you possibly be hungry for dessert?”

  “How can you not?” he admonishes.

  I snag the dessert menu from the table and open it up as the bell chimes again. This time an older couple walks in, and when the husband sees Drake, he shuffles his way toward us.

  “How ya doin’, Dr. Merritt?”

  Drake stands and greets the man and his wife with a warm smile. “I’m well, thank you for asking. How are you doing?”

  “A lot better now that those damn hemorrhoids are gone. You perform the best damn hemorrhoidectomy this side of the mountains.” The old man chuckles, his round belly bouncing.

  I nearly spew my drink across the table. I’m a nurse, so I get talking about gross stuff, even while I eat, but why on Earth would a patient want to talk about hemorrhoids in the middle of a restaurant?

  Drake is unfazed. “Good to hear.”

  “Now I just need to get the damn bunions taken care of, and I’ll be a new man.”

  “You know how to find me.”

  “That I do.” The gentleman notices me for the first time and smiles. “Who’s this beautiful woman?”

  “This is my friend, Abigail. You remember Dr. Malone—Dr. Hull now—don’t you?”

  The old man looks a little confused, but his wife smiles brightly. “Yes, I know Hannah. She’s my gynecologist. In fact, I just saw her last week for a raging yeast infection.”

  That makes Drake flinch. “Well, hopefully she got that all fixed up for you. Anyway, Abigail is her cousin.”

  “It’s so nice to meet you, dear,” the woman says. “If you see Hannah, tell her Gwen’s itch is gone. She’ll know exactly who you’re talking about.”

  Oh boy. I smile and nod, and the woman turns to her husband. “We should probably order. It’s getting late.”

  The older man shakes Drake’s hand once more and tips his hat in my direction. “Good seeing you again, Dr. Merritt. Sorry if we interrupted your meal.”

  “No worries, Mr. Gardner. We were finished anyway. Enjoy your meal and drive home safely.”

  We watch the couple shuffle across the diner and take a seat in the corner.

  “I bet that happens to you a lot.”

  “It’s a small town. I know almost everyone, and if they’ve had surgery, I was probably the one who performed it.”

  “Well, that was really nice of you.”

  “What was?”

  “Talking to Mr. Gardner.”

  Drake shrugs as if it’s not a big deal, except it is.

  “You’re off the clock, and you took time out of your evening to talk to them, even if it was just for a couple of minutes.”

  “Any doctor would’ve done the same.”

  I shake my head adamantly. “That’s not true. My parents would’ve brushed them off and rushed them along.”

  Drake’s eyes narrow. “Your parents are doctors? You’ve never mentioned that. What kind of practice are they in?”

  “My father is a cardiovascular surgeon, and my mother is an oncologist.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yup. They are very smart and very busy. Mom owns her own cancer treatment center, and Dad teaches cardiovascular surgery at the local university.”

  “Impressive.”

  I shrug. “If you call being married to your job impressive, then yes.”

  “You’re not impressed.”

  “Of course I am. I’m proud of their successes. I love my parents dearly. They gave me many opportunities in life that others don’t get.”

  “But those opportunities came with a price?” he guesses.

  “A hefty price. I never saw them. They were gone when I got up, and I was asleep by the time they got home. They missed recitals and Christmas concerts and every single soccer game I ever played. I was raised by a revolving door of nannies.”

  Drake’s face falls. “That must’ve been hard on you.
”

  “It is what it is.”

  “I’m surprised they didn’t push you to follow in their footsteps.”

  “Oh, trust me, they tried. But I saw how their careers dictated their lives—I was a product of it—and I swore I’d never subject myself or my family to that lifestyle.”

  Although for you, I think I would try.

  “That’s why you don’t date doctors.”

  I point a finger at him. “Bingo.”

  “I won’t lie and say I don’t love my job, because I do. I think most doctors love their job—they have a passion for it—which is why it’s so hard for them to step away sometimes. But we’re not all like your parents.”

  I gasp. “You mean you know how to relax and have fun?”

  We both laugh at my lack of acting skills. “Yes, I know how to have fun.”

  Laughter from another table catches my attention. I turn to look at small group of people who have been here for almost as long as we have. They too said hi to Drake when they walked in, which is why I’ve been careful not to touch him as openly as I did when we got here, but it’s hard when I’m having such a good time.

  “You’re thinking awfully hard over there. What’s on your mind?”

  “Nothing.” I shake my head. “I was just thinking about how much fun this has been. I can’t remember the last time I spent time with someone who wasn’t a classmate and talked about something other than school.”

  “I’ve had a wonderful time too.”

  I study my empty plate before looking up and catching Drake’s eye. “I can’t help but wonder how differently tonight would’ve gone if we weren’t Abby and Drake.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This might sound silly, but I wish we could be two different people. Just for one night.”

  “Two strangers?”

  “Yes. Like how we were when we first met, before you became my superior. Only this time, maybe we’re two strangers who meet at a restaurant. I just finished a wonderful meal, and I’m perusing the dessert menu when a guy from across the room catches my attention.”

  “What’s your name?” Drake asks, playing along with my silly game.

  “Bethany.”

  Drake slides from the booth and walks across the restaurant. I look around and laugh, wondering what in the world he’s up to when he stops to talk to Jess. When he comes back, he stands in front of me and holds out his hand.

  “Excuse me, but I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room. Are you here alone?”

  I can’t believe we’re doing this. “I am…” I hesitate, and when Drake stays in character, I continue. “But I’d love some company.”

  He smiles and holds out his hand. “My name is Tom.”

  “Bethany,” I say, shaking his hand.

  Drake…er, Tom slides onto the empty seat. “Was your meal good?”

  “Wonderful. It was my first time eating here. A friend recommended it.”

  “Must be some friend. Great taste if he recommended a place like this.”

  “He is a wonderful friend, but I’d much rather talk about you.”

  “Tom” and I spend the next hour laughing and talking, getting to know each other as though we were two people out on a first date.

  We share a chocolate shake, slice of apple pie, and several childhood stories. We talk about everything from our junior proms to the first time Drake/Tom got arrested. I ignore the other patrons in the diner when he moves from his side of the booth to mine and drapes an arm over my shoulder, and we make absolutely no move to leave until Jess drops off our bill and announces that the diner is closing.

  “That was fun,” I say, stepping out the front door.

  We’re on our way to Drake’s car when he stops and looks at me.

  “What would Bethany do if Tom wanted to hold her hand?”

  I fight a grin, loving our little game. “I think she’d really like that.”

  Drake slips his hand in mine, linking our fingers together. The touch of his hand causes a spark of pleasure to zip through me—a visceral reaction so intense that I suck in a sharp breath.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “Perfect.” I tighten my fingers around his and lean into him as the crisp night air whips around us. Drake doesn’t let me go until he’s forced to.

  “Your chariot awaits,” he says, holding open the door.

  I curtsey before climbing into his SUV. “Thank you, kind sir.”

  Drake jogs around the front of his Tahoe and hops in. Resting my head against the headrest, I close my eyes and savor the few moments I have alone with him. Our fingers find each other’s on the center console, and I hold on, desperate for the night to continue. Because right now we may be Bethany and Tom, but we’re also Drake and Abby.

  The ride is quiet, and I’d like to think Drake is soaking up the moment the way I am.

  “We’re here.”

  When he announces our arrival at my place, my stomach plummets.

  He releases my hand and puts the car in park, and I peel my eyes open. My apartment building is dark except for a small yellow light over the back door, barely giving off enough light to illuminate the parking spots. I’m not ready to go inside, but I know Drake has to work again tomorrow, and he needs to get some rest.

  “Thank you for dinner and dessert.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Drake slides out of his vehicle at the same time I do and walks me to my door. For several seconds, I stand frozen, hoping he’ll say fuck it and take me in his arms.

  I imagine wrapping my legs around his waist as he pushes me against the door. He’ll hoist me up, rip my panties off, and claim me the same way he did after Hannah’s wedding reception.

  The world would fall away as he filled me up, body and soul. I would get lost in him—lost in his touch and the steady beat of his heart against mine. But that fantasy is yanked out from under me when Drake places a chaste kiss on my cheek.

  He’s nothing if not gentle and upstanding.

  “I’ll see you around.”

  “Yeah, I’ll see you around.”

  I slip inside, press my back against the door, and try to get my heart under control. When his vehicle starts up, I dash to the window, fling the curtain open, and watch him pull away. His taillights fade into the night, and I replay our evening over and over again—every laugh, every word, every touch—as I perform my nightly routine.

  But it’s not just tonight I’m thinking about; it’s today in the OR, three days ago in my living room, and the twelve short hours we spent in his bed.

  Flicking off my bedroom light, I crawl beneath the cool sheets and startle when my phone chimes from the nightstand.

  I slide my finger across the screen and see a text.

  Drake: Tom wanted nothing more than to kiss Bethany goodnight.

  Me: Why didn’t he?

  I smile and watch three dots jump across my screen.

  Drake: He wasn’t sure if she was a kiss on the first date type of girl.

  I bust up laughing.

  Me: She is definitely not that type of girl. She is also firmly against one-night stands. Although I think she would’ve made an exception for Tom.

  Drake: Why is that?

  Me: Because Tom is special. She feels things when she’s with him, things she’s never felt. He scares her a little.

  Drake: She has nothing to be scared of because Tom feels the same way about her. He would never hurt Bethany.

  Me: Then maybe next time he should steal the kiss.

  Drake: Will there be a next time? I hear Bethany is leaving soon to go back home.

  Me: There better be. And plans can always be changed.

  Those words fly onto the screen automatically, and it isn’t until I press send that I realize the magnitude of what I just wrote.

  I’ve always hated change, even though I need it. It makes me nervous and uncomfortable. But the thought of staying here longer doesn’t give me a bit of anxiety. And
the thought that I’d be doing it because of Drake is in and of itself a miracle.

  But how would we make it work? Would he want to make it work? I wouldn’t be able to extend my contract and stay at the hospital. I’d have to find a different job—one where Dr. Drake Merritt isn’t my superior.

  I swallow past the lump in my throat. What if I didn’t find another job right away? I can’t not work. And then if I did find another job, I’d have to go through orientation and get adjusted to a new position with new co-workers, and that makes me want to throw up.

  There’s a long pause, and instead of staring at my phone, I check my alarm clock to make sure it’s set for tomorrow morning, and then I check it again, and twenty-seven times after that. I only stop checking it when my phone dings.

  Drake: Goodnight, Abigail.

  Me: Goodnight, Drake.

  Chapter 7

  Abby

  The following week hurries by. I picked up two extra shifts on top of three I already had scheduled, which means I got to see Drake almost every day. Unfortunately, we didn’t get to spend much time together. But we were able to steal a quick lunch twice and made plans for another dinner—one I was going to cook.

  The lasagna and garlic bread were ready to go, and I’d just popped the cork on a bottle of wine when Drake messaged and said he wouldn’t be able to make it. An emergency surgery stole our night together.

  So I lit the candle in the middle of my kitchen table, plated dinner, and ate alone the way I have so many other nights in my life. That was two nights ago, and I haven’t heard a word from Drake since.

  Snow started to fall about two hours ago, toward the end of my final shift for the week, and it’s accumulating much more quickly than I’d anticipated. On my way home, I stop by the hardware store to grab a pair of gloves. I’m standing in line to check out when a little girl carrying a plastic sled steps beside me with her dad close behind.

  “Are you going to go sledding?” I ask, nodding toward the plastic disc.

  The little girl nods her head, causing her blond curls to bounce. “My daddy is taking me. My brother broke my sled, so we had to get a new one.”

  “I’ve never been sledding. Is it fun?”