Desiree Holt - Caught in the Middle

Did she want a friend who deserted her in her time of need? She wasn’t going to hold her breath or shed a tear. She just thanked God for Jody.

Still, she felt as if she was contagious the way so many people glared, whispered and pointed. She held her head high and pretended she didn’t notice.

A few minutes later, she turned a corner and collided with a tall man in a doctor’s coat. His clipboard fell and when she bent to retrieve it, they bumped heads. She prayed to God it wasn’t Dexter. When she heard the man’s chuckle, she froze.

It was the other one.

She lifted her eyes, and they immediately clashed with Ben’s beautiful hazel ones. She forced a gaiety to her voice she didn’t feel, but it sounded brittle. “I’ve always said they should install mirrors at these intersections.”

“Are you okay?” Surprisingly, Ben’s voice was gentle and concerned as he curled his fingers around her elbow and helped her up.

Her heels slid out from under her on the ascent, and she would have tumbled again except Ben caught her against him and held her tight. His hot breath scorched her neck. “I’ve missed you. We should get together again. What do you say?”

A loud intake of breath alerted her to another’s presence, and her heart sank. Without looking, she had a good idea who it was and what he was thinking.

The truth blindsided her. She was deeply and desperately in love with only one man. One impossible, cranky, judgmental man who possessed her heart and soul but didn’t want her. After her little escapade, he never would.

Pain, fast and furious, sliced through her, debilitating her. If she could travel back in time, she’d undo everything. She’d never try to make Dexter jealous again.

Gently but firmly, she extricated herself from Dr. Hunky. She inhaled deeply as she readjusted her ponytail before looking up into his puzzled eyes.

Before she could recite her speech for Dexter’s benefit, she heard heavy footsteps swiftly disappear down the hall, and she cursed herself for caring.

She cupped her hand to Ben’s smooth, dear cheek and noted she wasn’t getting all tingly or going gooey in his arms. Her feelings for him didn’t run deep. They had been only of the moment. “Pippi Longstocking.”

When Ben gave her a blank look, she searched for better words. “Look, Dr. Hunk-Ben. You’re a great guy and an awesome lover and I like you a lot, but-”

He shushed her by putting two fingers to her lips then ushered her to a secluded corner. “But you want a committed relationship. A husband. Babies. House. A ring. I get that, and I do, too.”

Sucker punched, she was speechless. Her heart ached for him if he meant what she was afraid of. She splayed her hand on his chest. “Stop right there. Please don’t say any more.”

Surprise was quickly chased away by suspicion in his eyes. “So you’re stuck on Graham. Damn! I was afraid of that.”

“Yeah,” caught in her throat so she nodded and mad at herself, pursed her lips.

Ben slid a finger under her chin and forced up her face. He deposited a light kiss on her nose. “The dork doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t know what to do with you. For such a brilliant man in the operating room, he’s a moron outside of it.”

She punched him lightly in his upper arm. “Yep. I’m afraid you’re right. But what’s a woman gonna do? I think I’ve already done way too much.”

Ben tweaked her ponytail, and with a rueful grimace, he said, “I will go on, and you will, too. Friends?”

Her heart fluttered a bit, and she cracked a grin. “Yeah. Friends.”

A leer stole over his handsome lips, and he leaned close. “With privileges?”

She rolled her eyes and gave him a gentle shove. “Don’t count on it.”

As she worked the kinks out of her shoulders and meandered down the hall, he called after her, “That wasn’t a firm ‘no’, was it?”

Since when had ‘no’ not meant ‘no’? After some heart searching, she wasn’t sure. Ben was a lot of fun, an excellent lover, and would provide a diversion to heartache but was that fair to any of them?

No!

She vowed to stop playing games with love. Ultimately, she was always the biggest loser. She rubbed her tummy. Thank God, she wasn’t pregnant. She’d been an idiot to forget to use protection with Dexter. Deep down, she’d been hoping he’d steal her away and make her all his.

Who was the dork now?

Rather unladylike, she snorted and didn’t give a damn who heard.

Love was for morons, and she also vowed not to be a moron any more.

Dexter had trouble keeping his mind on work and feared he’d make a life and death mistake. That wouldn’t do.

He barged into Amy’s office without an appointment or even knocking first. A huge racing fan, her walls were covered with NASCAR emblems and autographed pictures and model cars lined her shelves.

“I need a vacation. Now.”

Amy scowled and shook her head. “You’re booked up for weeks. You’re not scheduled for vacation for another five months.”

Five months!

He tossed up his hands and paced in front of her desk. “I can’t wait five months. I’m going insane now.”

She narrowed her eyes and punched more keys on her computer, amazingly fast for only using one hand. Each stroke rang out like gunfire and pounded like a bullet into his aching head.

“Is there a family emergency or are you certifiably ill?”

“No.” Unless a broken and battered heart counted.

She arched a pencil-thin brow, and her lips smirked. “Mentally ill?”

“No.” Or was being stuck on a woman who wanted two guys crazy? He couldn’t commit to her if she couldn’t commit to him. Him and Junior didn’t count. There was room for only one set of balls in his bed and that was his.

Hell, he was a mental case. Even dating Simone didn’t help. He just kept comparing her to Charity, and Charity always came out on top.

“Well, I don’t feel as if I can operate safely. Do you really want me in that operating room?”

Amy stood and leaned on her desk. “Need I remind you that your patients are depending on you?”

“Exactly.”

“Suck it up, Graham. Get over the bitch or whatever’s bothering you but no vacation. I have no one to replace you. Get out of my office and back to work.”

On his way out, Dexter muttered under his breath even as he waved and tried to make his “thanks” sound genuine.

He dug his hands deep in his pockets, and his head hung low as he wandered back to his office.

Simone perched on his desk, her silky legs swinging and her short skirt pushed seductively up to the top of her thighs. Her cleavage showed so much he could almost see her nipples. He wondered why the bottle-blonde bothered to dress at all. Did all women think him such a bimbo that they thought they’d attract him with skin? For once, he wished a woman would seduce him with her scathing intellect.

“What are you doing here? What do you want?” He tried to keep the sigh out of his voice, but one look at Simone’s disappointed moue told him he’d failed.

Simone pushed off her seat, purring, and sidled up to him. She swept her arm wide to indicate the wine, cheese and crackers spread over his desk. “I bring sustenance. I thought we’d be cosier having lunch in private here instead of that crowded cafeteria. You like?”

He pushed his hair off his face, gave her a wide berth, then sank tiredly into his chair. “Thank you but not today. I’m bone weary and not in the mood.”

She pouted prettily, rounded the desk, and climbed on his lap without invitation. Then she leaned so close his nose was between her boobs and her cloying perfume suffocated him. With hypnotising fingers, she kneaded his shoulders. “I know what my poor baby needs. I’ll get you fixed right up.”