Prognosis: Romance (Doctors in Training 4)

“I swear, someone’s going to have to start watching that boy every single minute,” Hollis agreed, the release of tension making him sound gruffer than usual. “It’s a miracle he’s lived to be eight.”

J.P. grimaced ruefully at James. “I had dark hair until Kyle learned to walk,” he said, running a hand through his silver mane.

James smiled. “I can believe that.”

“His broken leg will heal, right?” Stacy asked James, almost as if she were afraid to believe all would be well. “You don’t think he’ll have a limp or anything like that, do you?”

Shannon watched as his smile faded instantly into his “doctor look.” “The orthopedic surgeons here are very skilled. I’ve seen them rebuild limbs that were completely shattered. Kyle’s in good hands.”

Almost exactly the same words he’d used earlier, she recalled. He seemed to have developed certain comments to use in certain situations in his job—like the “in good hands” remark.

Because he always seemed so comfortable making conversation in other situations, she wondered if he was a bit awkward tonight because he was sort of on the sidelines. Not really a family friend, not really a doctor. He’d hinted about leaving a few times while they awaited the outcome of Kyle’s surgery—his excuse being that he didn’t want to intrude on their family crisis—but each time, there’d been an outcry from the family. Mostly from Virginia, who seemed to believe James was her own personal liaison to the hospital staff, even though he’d done nothing more since finding the emergency-department resident.

Stacy and J.P. were called back to be with their son. Stacy planned to spend the night at the hospital while her husband returned home to their other children. Stu convinced his parents to let him drive them home to rest, assuring them they could come back the next morning to be with their grandson. Lingering long enough to tell her parents good-night, Stacy told Shannon, too, that she should leave.

“We’ll be fine here,” she promised. “I know you have a party scheduled for tomorrow. You have to fulfill your responsibility or you’ll get a reputation as being unreliable.”

“The party’s not until tomorrow evening,” Shannon replied, trying not to take offense at being told how to run her business. Her family was in such a habit of “guiding” Shannon, the youngest child, and she’d been resisting their advice more and more during the past couple of years, but tonight was no time to assert her independence. She supposed Stacy needed something normal tonight, even if that was simply micromanaging her younger sister’s affairs.

“I’ll come by tomorrow morning,” she said, giving Stacy a hug. “Don’t worry, I’ll have plenty of time to check on Kyle and get ready for the party. Devin’s off tomorrow, so she can help me.”

“Please don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything I can do for you,” James said to Stacy and J.P. as he made preparations to leave with Shannon. He handed J.P. a card. “My number’s on there. I don’t have many strings to pull around here, just being a student, but I’ll do whatever I can to help if you have any problems or questions.”

“Thanks, James.” J.P. pocketed the card, nodding at Shannon as if in approval of her friend.

Though James had been unable to find a parking space close to Shannon when they had arrived, he insisted on walking her to her car when they left the hospital. The area was well lit and a security guard in a golf-styled cart passed through occasionally, but James said he wasn’t comfortable letting her walk alone through the parking lot at that late hour. Shannon insisted she didn’t need the escort, but he just fell into step beside her, anyway, not even listening to her protests that he didn’t need to walk so far out of his way.

This only served as more proof of those take-charge tendencies she’d worried about, she told herself. Even if his motives were well-intentioned—as her family’s always were—she still disliked the feeling of having her choices dismissed. As if she were a child who needed guiding for her own good.

She knew she was overreacting to his chivalry, even realized that stress and exhaustion were making her overly sensitive, but it still irked.

She pressed her key remote, hearing her car chirp in response as she looked up at James. “Thanks for reassuring my mother this evening. I’m sure the hospital was the last place you wanted to be on a free evening.”

“I wasn’t able to do much to help.”

“Just being there was helpful. The family felt as though they had an interpreter if a medical issue arose that they didn’t understand. You did explain a lot to them about the function of the spleen and what they could expect if Kyle had to lose his.”

He grimaced a little. “I hope I didn’t sound lecturing. Sometimes it’s too easy to fall into teaching mode when people ask me medical questions.”

Was that genuine self-doubt in his voice? If so, it was the first time she’d heard it from him. “You were great. My mother’s ready to adopt you.”

That made his smile warm a few degrees. “I’d almost let her. She really is a lovely woman.”

“She’s a flake.”

He chuckled and she knew he’d heard the fondness in her description. “Maybe a little, which only adds to her appeal.”

A loaded pause followed the comment, and with the way James was looking at her, Shannon couldn’t help wondering what was going through his mind. She had the distinct feeling he was no longer thinking of her mother.

“Drive carefully,” he said, reaching around her to open her car door.

She blinked, then nodded. “You, too. Good night, James.”

He looked from her eyes to her mouth, then back again. “Good night, Shannon.”

He stood where he was and watched her start her car and drive out of the parking lot, as if to make sure she got away safely. Glancing in her rearview mirror as she turned onto the main thoroughfare, she saw him finally turn to walk toward his own parking space.

She lifted one hand off the steering wheel long enough to touch her lips. Why was it that James had not even touched her, and yet she could so vividly imagine how it would feel to have kissed him good-night?