Private Practice (Private Pleasures 1)
“No, that’s okay.” He didn’t want to squeeze the things he had to say to her in between patients or a trip to Lexington to visit her father. “I’ll catch up with her later.”
“I think she’ll be back from Lexington after six, if you want to try he
r then.”
“Thanks, Mel.” He glanced at his watch and did some quick figuring. He could do better than a phone call at six if he got his ass in gear.
…
Ellie plopped into her chair and stifled a groan when she checked the patient schedule on her desk. Busy was good, she reminded herself, but a fifteen-minute lunch break she was five minutes late starting wouldn’t do much for her headache and sagging energy. Or her hunger. She needed food and was contemplating her options—a candy bar or a bag of pretzels from the snack stash in her desk drawer—when Melody knocked on the open door and came in carrying a to-go bag from DeShay’s.
She set the bag down front and center on Ellie’s desk. “I took the liberty of ordering you a turkey and Swiss on wheat.”
Ellie’s stomach growled its approval. “I’m giving you a raise,” she said, digging into the bag. “A big one. Name your price.”
The blonde laughed and perched on the corner of the desk. “Let’s see how this month’s receipts look and then we’ll talk. Speaking of talking, I spoke to Roger last night.”
Unsure what to say, Ellie concentrated on opening the sandwich wrapper and spreading it out into a makeshift place mat.
“He told me he came out to you, and you were incredibly understanding and supportive.”
“That’s sweet of him to say, but I reacted like any friend would.”
“Not in his mind. He’s got this deep-seated fear everybody will loathe him if they know the truth, so he hasn’t opened up to many people. I’ve tried to convince him otherwise, but my assurances only go so far.” She paused, and took a deep breath. “Can you forgive me for not telling you about Roger? I promised him I wouldn’t tell a soul.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. It’s not your fault I refused to see several huge signs that were staring me right in the face.”
Melody brushed that aside with a wave of her hand. “Sometimes the journey to love involves some bumpy detours, as any girl with a gay ex-fiancé will tell you. But I’ve learned a smooth trip isn’t particularly important. Getting there is what matters.”
“Are you getting there?”
She smiled and nodded. “Yes, I believe I am, finally. Josh makes an excellent guide. He keeps me on the right path.”
“I’m glad,” Ellie said, meaning it. “Send me a postcard from happily ever after, because I don’t think I’m making the trip anytime soon.”
Melody stood and strolled to the door. At the threshold, she turned and gave Ellie an odd look. “Something tells me you’re not as far away as you think.”
Before Ellie could reply, the bell dinged from the waiting room, signaling the arrival of the next patient. She started to get up, but Melody stopped her. “Eat. I’ve got to get new insurance information and take care of the co-pay. Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of here on time.”
“Have I mentioned a raise lately?”
Melody laughed as she walked away. “Yeah, you have.”
Ellie bounced like a pinball between exam rooms all afternoon, seeing patients, writing prescriptions, updating charts…and yet somehow still found time to obsess over Tyler. Should she call him and try to explain herself, or stop by his place so they could speak face-to-face? What, exactly, should she say to him? When I asked you to teach me how to be wilder in bed, I wanted to turn myself into Roger’s fantasy woman. I never dreamed I’d end up falling in love with you. If the “I love you” part didn’t send him running for the hills, the “turn myself into Roger’s fantasy woman” would. God, Ellie, she scrubbed a hand over her tired eyes and stifled a noise somewhere between a whimper and a groan. What the hell were you thinking?
Certainly not that spending time with Tyler would be so easy, so effortless, and so addictive. She’d been physically attracted to him from the start, but his sexy smile and easy charm had distracted her from the strength of his character and the capacity of his heart. She hadn’t expected to find a friend, a confidant, a soul mate. She hadn’t expected to find love.
The half hour spent driving to Lexington to check on Frank brought her no closer to figuring out how to explain herself. Their visit offered no chance to sort through her muddled thoughts because Frank spent the entire time complaining about lousy hospital food and bloodsucking nurses. But hey, at least they were talking.
While she was there, Sharon stopped by with a get well soon gift—a diabetic cookbook. Sharon and Frank sat together on the bed, leafing through the book. Frank insisted every entrée looked “like crap,” but Sharon kept at him, and before long, had him talked him into trying one with her as soon as his hospital stay ended. Ellie said goodbye and headed out. Her dad was in good hands, and she had her own issues to tackle, starting with the screwed-up mess of her love life.
She rehearsed what to say to Tyler on the drive home. First off, she owed him an explanation as to why she’d been kissing Roger yesterday evening. That was a relatively easy conversation, compared to the thornier things she had to confess. Maybe Tyler didn’t care—they never discussed exclusivity, after all—but it mattered to her. She wanted him to know the whole truth. He deserved to know the truth, including her real motive for seeking sexual experience, no matter how sadly misguided she’d been. Hand-in-hand with the explanation about Roger, she owed him an apology for manipulating him into helping her with such a crass, calculated pursuit. Once she got all that out on the table, the chance he’d believe she’d developed genuine feelings for him, or was even capable of genuine feelings, seemed remote. Hi, I spent the last few weeks using you to help me win another man’s heart, but now I realize I don’t love him—I love you. He’d probably crack a rib laughing at her.
She parked her car in the driveway and headed to her front door, still deep in thought, and drew up short when she saw Tyler sitting on her porch steps. For a second, she simply drank in the sight of him while her heart skipped around in her chest. Belatedly, she noticed his truck parked in her driveway, between the house and the garage.
“Tyler…what are you doing here?”
He slowly got to his feet, eyes never leaving her face. “How’s your dad?”