Karen smiled. “I’ll be sure to let everyone know you’re off the market, Dr. Williams.”
“I didn’t know I was ever on the market. But you do that. My free time is definitely going to be occupied by this little lady so long as she’ll let me hang around.” Riley winked and nodded towards the cardiac care patient rooms. “How’s Mr. Ryker this morning? Holding his own?”
Still not quite believing how he’d just essentially given Karen permission to tell everyone that he belonged to her, Trinity shook her head in wonder.
Take that, Christmas party trio who’d called her “tonight’s lucky pick”.
She was this week’s lucky pick.
Or something like that.
Then again, she had to wonder just what he had to gain by hanging out with her. Why he’d want to. Ultimately, how much did they have in common? Was he so used to women chasing him that he had to dazzle her so she’d follow suit?
Sure, she’d enjoyed talking to him into the wee hours, but everything was different when you were bone tired, right?
Still, she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t enjoyed spending time with him the evening before, despite what he’d had her doing. She’d definitely be fibbing if she said she hadn’t derived deep pleasure from falling asleep to the sound of his voice, to his breathing on the other end of the phone, to him asking her thoughts and dreams.
No one had ever asked her those things.
“Oxygen sats are staying at 97-98%, but he’s still on two liters per minute,” she told him, referring to the patient she’d just finished checking prior to Karen’s inquisition. “Cardiac monitoring is normal. His vitals are stable. Ins and outs are normal. A physical therapist had him up walking not long ago.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
It’s what she liked to report. No nurse wanted to deliver bad news regarding a patient.
“Come round with me?”
He was her superior so of course she’d go round with him if that’s what he wanted. Based on the past couple days, she’d do a lot of things with him if that’s what he wanted. If he could get her to decorate a Christmas tree, she was pretty much at his will to command.
Lord, she hoped that wasn’t really so.
“Y’all have fun and don’t do anything that will get Mr. Ryker’s heart racing,” Karen teased, looking quite pleased at Riley’s admission.
He laughed and Trinity didn’t say a word. Honestly, as impressed as she was at Riley not caring who knew he was interested in her, she hated the thought that she was the focus of hospital gossip. Even if it was positive gossip regarding her and Riley, because all good things came to an end and then what? She’d once again be poor pitiful Trinity who’d been dumped, because realistically she acknowledged that he’d be the one to end their relationship.
Would he humiliate her publicly, the way Chase had?
Of course, to give him credit, Chase had been drinking too much. Would he have otherwise announced her shortcomings so cruelly at their hospital Christmas party? Probably not, but once done he’d been unable to take back his words, couldn’t stop the teasing that had ensued at Trinity’s expense. Why had she stayed in Memphis so long after that horrible Christmas? Had she purposely been punishing herself for being so stupid as to put her hopes in a man? At least she hadn’t started drinking, the way her mother had after being deserted by Trinity’s father.
She should have removed herself from the situation much sooner. She hadn’t wanted to run but, really, after her mother’s death she’d had no ties. She should have left. Next time she’d know.
Next time?
Was she already planning for the demise of any relationship between her and Riley? Whatever that relationship might be. She really didn’t have a clue what he wanted from her.
If he’d just wanted sex, wouldn’t he have knocked the night before instead of talking to her into the wee morning hours?
Riley tapped on the patient’s door then entered the private cardiac room. “Good morning, Mr. Ryker.”
The man stretched out in his bed smiled at Riley and then at Trinity. A clear tube ran around his face with a nasal cannula delivering oxygen. Multiple wires and leads were attached at various points to his body.
“Your nurse tells me that you’re ready to dance a jig and you want to blow this joint as soon as possible. That so?”
Not her exact words.
“If it would get me home earlier, I’d dance a jig or two,” the heavy set man admitted, raising the head of his bed and scooting up, wincing a little as he did so. “Other than the pain in my chest and leg from being cut open, I feel great.”