Heart And Soul (Angel Sands 8)

The elevator pinged and they walked inside. An elegant couple were in there, along with a nurse who smiled at Rich. “Hey doc.”

“Hi.” He smiled back.

Nobody said anything else as the elevator descended, stopping a couple of times to pick up more occupants. Meghan had to step back to let them in, her back pushing against Rich’s front. His hand curled around her hip to steady her.

And she felt that tingling all over again.

When they reached the ground floor and everybody spilled out, Rich walked her to the exit, smiling and saying hello to people he knew as they walked past.

“Isn’t the ER that way?” she teased, as he followed her outside.

“I just wanted to make sure you got to your car safely.” He grinned. “And to say thank you for last night.”

She turned to look at him. The sun had caught his face, warming his skin and making his eyes shine. “I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

“We should thank each other. So I guess you’ll have Isla back tonight?”

“Yep.”

“Can I call you when I get home?”

Her heart did a little thud. “Is there something wrong?”

“Nothing at all. I just want to hear your voice.”

Damn, he knew how to make her insides tingle. “I’d like that,” she said softly.

“I guess I should get back.” He didn’t look in any hurry.

“I guess you should.”

They were silent for a moment, staring at each other as the evening sun beat down on them. The parking lot was half empty and for a moment it was just the two of them.

“Are we okay?” she asked him.

“Yeah. Definitely.”

“So you’re not going to ignore me?”

He swallowed, his thick throat undulating. “I’m definitely not going to ignore you. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Every time I close my eyes I see you behind them.” He leaned down, brushing his lips against her cheek. “I really have to go now.”

“I know.” She nodded. “Goodbye, Rich.”

“I’

ll definitely be calling you later.”

It was crazy how much she liked the sound of that.

“What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?” Rich’s voice was low and lazy. She imagined he was laying in his bed, the way she was lounging in hers. It was almost midnight – Isla was fast asleep, the way she had been every night this week when he’d called.

“I don’t like ice cream,” she told him. Rich spluttered so loud she swore she could hear him through the wall.

“What? How can you not like ice cream? You run a shop for the damn stuff.”

“I’m kidding.” She bit down a grin. “I love ice cream. That’s why I used my grandma’s money to put a deposit on the shop. For the record, I love vanilla. I know it’s boring as hell, but it’s perfection. All creamy and cool and makes my stomach growl with joy.”

“Say creamy again.”