His Private Nurse

“So am I,” he quipped wryly.

“I meant, I wouldn’t have chased them away if I’d realized they were your parents.”

“I use the term loosely,” he said. “They’re no fonder of me than I am of them. Don’t worry about it. You couldn’t chase them away with a pitchfork if they didn’t want to go. Now, where’s my pizza?”

She checked the first box, closed it again and set it aside. “Here it is.” She opened the box and arranged it on the adjustable table in front of him, then opened the sack. Plunking napkins down in front of him with one hand, she reached into the bag with the other and extracted a small cardboard triangle containing the cheesecake he’d been dreaming about since he’d first thought of it hours earlier. She set that aside and carefully lifted out first one and then another foam cup with plastic lids. Next she removed two straws, peeled one and pushed it into the hole in the top of the lid on one of the drinks. Sliding the large cup close to the pizza box, she picked up the other cup and reached for her own pizza. A moment ago he’d have given his house, his dream house, for a few minutes of solitary peace. Now the idea of eating alone, of being alone, seemed singularly unpalatable.

“You’re not going?” he said disapprovingly, catching her wrist in his one good hand. He realized as his fingers closed around her delicate, finely boned wrist that he wasn’t trying to detain her so much as he was looking for that jolt, that flash of carnal recognition that he’d felt before, when he’d stuffed the twenty-dollar bill into her pocket and discovered the unexpected bounty of her breast beneath the loose coat. It flashed through him, right up his arm to the center of his chest and straight down to his groin. It jolted the cup right out of her hand and sent it spilling across his clean, dry floor.

With a small cry, she leaped back, dismay shaping her pretty little mouth into a plump O. Royce craned his neck to glimpse the pale liquid spreading across the glossy tile, then he smiled at her, moved by a mischievous imp whose presence he hadn’t felt in far too long and said, “Be glad to share.”

But she just shook her head and ran out of the room. With a sigh Royce closed the lid on his pizza. Somehow it didn’t look nearly so inviting without Nurse Merrily Gage there to share it.

Chapter Three

“Lane, would it kill you to actually put your dirty clothes into the hamper?” Merrily asked, exasperated.

Her brother peered at her through the steam generated by the long, hot shower he’d gotten out of minutes before. “What difference does it make?”

Merrily stuffed the clothes into the hamper and straightened, brushing her ponytail off one shoulder. “It would save me the effort of picking them up.”

He shrugged and went back to combing his hair. “When you sort the laundry you’re gonna pile it on the bathroom floor, anyway.”

“That’s beside the point.”

Ignoring her, he tossed aside his comb and hitched up his jeans, admiring his bare chest in the mirror. “Hey, you ironed that red shirt of mine yet?”

“I haven’t had time.”

“Merrily, I’m going out tonight.”

“Wear another shirt.”

“I don’t wanna wear another shirt. That’s my chick-magnet shirt.”

“Then iron it yourself.”

“Yeah, right. You know I can’t iron.”

“Maybe it’s time you learned.”

He chucked her under the chin and grinned down into her upturned face. “Baby sister, that’s what you’re for.” Abruptly turning pitiful, he whined, “Come on, Merrily, I’ll ruin it if I try. You can whip it out in no time. Ple-e-ease.”

Merrily sighed. “Oh, all right, but from now on you put your dirty clothes in the hamper, agreed?”

Lane turned away. “Sure, sure. Make it quick, will you? The guys are picking me up in a few minutes.” He went out of the bathroom whistling.

Merrily bent and opened the cabinet beneath the sink. After extracting the steam iron as well as the cleanser for which she’d originally come into the room, Merrily straightened and looked around her. She’d spent the whole morning cleaning this one room, and now just look at it. Towels lay in a damp heap on the floor. One corner of the bath mat had been kicked up and left so that water pooled outside the shower. A wet washcloth that had been slung over the top of the shower dripped a trail down the pebbled glass wall. Why did she even bother? On every day off, she slaved to clean up this place, but not one of her brothers could be trusted to so much as straighten up after himself.

At twenty-eight, Lane ought to have been living on his own, possibly even married, but he wasn’t responsible enough for that. The older two were worse. Lane at least had a social life, if trolling the club scene with his equally immature friends could be called such. Kyle, at thirty, remained the next thing to a recluse. He considered himself superior to the others because he’d earned a master’s degree in English, but he hated his job as a high school teacher and had always been more comfortable with his books than people. Jody, on the other hand, had followed their father into the U.S. Postal Service, delivering mail. It was grueling work, but not grueling enough to have turned Jody into the old man he’d become at thirty-two. Since their parents had spent a large chunk of their retirement fund on a motor home and set off to see the country more than a year ago, Jody had virtually turned into their father, taking over the family home as if he owned it and attempting to order all their lives as their strict, conservative parents had done.

That proclivity created friction amongst the siblings. Jody parked himself in front of the television most evenings and issued edicts that his brothers both protested and ignored. Merrily herself operated on the periphery, functioning as housekeeper and cook while holding down a demanding full-time job of her own. The only thing the three brothers seemed to agree upon was that Merrily deserved whatever headaches and exhaustion her life brought her since she’d opted for a career instead of marriage and the protected existence of a housewife that her mother had chosen. They conveniently overlooked the fact that marriage had not really been an option for her. Even if some guy had been interested in her, he wouldn’t have braved the guard dogs her father and brothers had always become whenever anyone approached her. She knew it was their way of showing their love for her, but she also knew that if they had their way, she’d be stuck keeping house for one or all of them the rest of her life.

She’d been trying to work herself up to moving out on her own for some time now, but what was the point, really? Her own social life was nonexistent and would likely remain so. Certainly she had friends, but most of them were married with young families of their own. She was Aunt Merrily to a bevy of small children whom she often baby-sat, but their parents didn’t really have much time for her anymore, and because of her appearance it was difficult for her to make new friends her own age. She kept telling herself not to be so shy about it, but she couldn’t seem to overcome that first dismissive look she always received when she approached other adults. The only notable exception to the rule was Royce Lawler, and even he had thought at first that she was a candy striper or some other teen volunteer at the hospital.

She wondered how he was doing and suppressed a surge of guilt at having left work the evening before without checking in on him. Really, though, how could she have faced him after she’d spilled her drink all over the floor of his room? She hadn’t even gone back to clean it up. Instead she’d called housekeeping to take care of it. If she hadn’t gone in there thinking they could share dinner together, she wouldn’t have embarrassed herself like that. It was stupid, the way she’d started to fantasize about the man, especially since she would probably never see him again. Barring complications, he’d leave the hospital before she even returned to work. Disappointment welled up in her. She bit her lip, but then Lane yelled to get a move on with that shirt, and she shoved aside personal concerns to do what she seemed to do best, taking care of everyone else.

“What the hell do you mean she’s not coming in?” Royce demanded of the male nurse easing his bandaged leg down onto the pillows arranged to accept it. Knowing that he was going to lose the traction bar soon was a great relief, but it seemed secondary to the fact that Nurse Gage wouldn’t be tending to it. “She has to come in. She’s a nurse, and she has patients who depend on her.”

“She also has days off just like everyone else,” the man told him, his smile flashing white in his dark, squarish face. “I, Carlos, will take care of you today.”

Royce tamped down his impatience and forced a smile. “Great. That’s great. Uh, when did you say Merrily, er, Nurse Gage would be back?”

Carlos shrugged, saying off-handedly, “Day after tomorrow.”

The day after? But he was due to check out of here tomorrow! Wildly he thought of stalling that for a day, but the idea of spending one more night in this torture chamber made him shudder. He might have done it if he’d been able to see his kids, but Pamela had decreed the hospital too traumatic for them, and under the circumstances he was forced to agree, so his only contact with them had been by telephone, when he could convince that suspicious nanny that he was who he said he was and should be allowed to talk to them. No, he had to get out of here so he could schedule a real visit, and the sooner the better, but that brought up a whole other set of problems.

He really couldn’t manage on his own, but he would not go to his parents’ house. Dale was well-meaning but no one’s idea of a nurse, even if he could’ve spared the time from his busy practice to play that role. So Dale was calling home care agencies looking for someone to stay with Royce for the next few weeks. Royce grimaced at the thought of some stranger living in his house helping him tend to his most intimate needs, but what else could he do? Unless… He realized suddenly what had been in the back of his mind almost from the moment he’d been told he would be going home soon. It probably wouldn’t work, but he knew that he’d kick himself later if he didn’t at least try.

“Listen,” he said as the nurse turned away. “I have a favor to ask. It’s real important to me.”

The man shrugged good-naturedly. “Sure, as long as it is not against doctor’s orders.”

“It’s not against doctor’s orders,” Royce promised him. “I just need you to contact Merrily, I mean Nurse Gage, for me. Can you do that?”

Obviously surprised, the man stroked his chin. “I don’t know. Personally I hate to be called on my day off.”

“Please,” Royce said. “If you could just get her a message, tell her I need to see her… Look, I’ll pay you. It’s that important.”

The man seemed insulted. “You do not have to pay me. If it is that important to you, I will see what I can do.”

Royce relaxed slightly. “Thanks. H-how soon? I mean, how soon can you call her?”

Carlos Espinoza glanced at his watch. “I have a break in about forty minutes. I will try then.”

Forty minutes. Royce bit his tongue to keep from urging the fellow to make the call now, immediately, instantly. Forty minutes, and then how long before he heard from her? Would he hear from her at all?

Merrily sat in the kitchen thumbing through a magazine. When the phone rang, she didn’t even look up, knowing that Jody would prefer to get it himself. A moment later, when he yelled for her, she felt a mild spurt of surprise. Rising from the table, she walked to the end of the bar that separated the den from the kitchen. Jody sat in his recliner, staring at the television screen.

“What is it, Jody?”

He didn’t look away from the screen. “That call was for you.”

She folded her arms. “Why did you hang up, then?”

“Guy said that a Mr. Lawler wants to see you. I said I’d pass the message. That was it.”

Royce! For a moment she stood frozen in place. He wanted to see her. She didn’t stop to wonder what he wanted or why it was important enough to contact her at home. She didn’t question who had actually made the call or when or how she was supposed to make contact with Royce Lawler. She only knew that he wanted her, and that was more than enough at the moment.