One Sure Thing (Mamma Lou Matchmaker Series) (29 page)

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Oh yeah, I had the grocer and pharmacy put everything on the Doc’s tab. He’ll catch ‘em later.” Hope offered to at least give Jimmy a little something for his troubles. “Nah, that’s not necessary. Doc’s cool and Mrs. Gates always take good care of me and the family.” He started back to the front door. “Thanks anyway Doc.” He opened the door and stepped out into the hall.

“Thank you again Jimmy. I’ll make sure to mention how wonderful you’ve been.”

He smiled wide, tipped his hat and disappeared onto the waiting elevator. “See you Doc. Call if you need anything else.”

Hope closed the door and walked back into the bedroom. Raymond was still asleep. She rousted him awake just enough for him to swallow the two pills and drink some water. Afterwards he went right back to sleep and she went back to the kitchen. She unpacked the two bags leaving a number of the items on the counter. She washed her hands and pulled out a large pot she had seen earlier and began to work.

After boiling for fifteen minutes, the brew of chicken broth bubbled on the stovetop as she completed her last pile of chopped ingredients. Carrots, onions, celery, parsley, a pinch of basil, a dash of thyme, and other herbs sat on the cutting board next to the diced chicken breast. She seasoned and stirred the pot sending an aromatic cloud wafting through the kitchen.

One at a time she added the remaining ingredients giving each the opportunity to meld and blend with the seasonings. After all the ingredients had been added, she let the pot cook. Then gradually she added the cubed chicken and egg noodles. She covered the pot and lowered the heat allowing the soup to simmer until the vegetables were tender and the noodles were done.

In less than ninety minutes time she was savoring the aromatic concoction. She found an oversized mug in the cabinet and helped herself to a serving of chicken soup. It was perfect. She put the rest of the soup in the refrigerator then cleaned up the kitchen. Afterwards she went back into the bedroom to check on her patient. He was still asleep so she relaxed in the chair beside the bed.

Half an hour later, Hope looked up just as Raymond began to stir. She watched as he looked around then found her sitting in the chair next to the bed. She smiled down at him. “Hi. How do you feel?” Her voice was thick and husky.

His dimple, barely noticeable beneath the silken hairs of his beard, slyly winked at her. “How do I look?”

She lowered her eyes not wanting to show the inner turmoil she was going though just by seeing his half naked body lying there.

“That bad, huh?”

“You look like you have a virus.”

Ever the jokester, he muttered slowly. “Good, ‘cause that would explain why I feel like I have a virus.”

“I see you haven’t lost you sense of humor.”

“Always the last to go. How long have I been asleep?”

“I don’t know but since I got here, about four and a half hours did you take anything before falling asleep?” He shook his head from side to side. “Good, then take this.” She reached into a white paper bag and pulled out a medicine bottle. She unsuccessfully twisted at a small white cap several times. She stopped, and then twisted again. “I hate these bottle tops. They never open when you want them to. Although, just give it to a four year old kid and viola, the cap pops right off.”

“Give it to me.” Raymond rose up on his elbows then reached out to take the bottle from her.

She chuckled. “To do what?”

“You can barely sit up. You’re as weak as a babe.”

“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m not as weak as I appear. I’m reserving my strength for,” he paused to leer at her, “later.” She laughed at his attempted seduction. “Come on, give me the bottle.”

“You don’t have the energy to argue with me so just shut-up, lay back and do as I say.”

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

She nodded with an impish grin.

Raymond plopped back onto the pillows. “You need to work on your bedside manner.”

“So I’ve been told.” She finally opened the bottle. She poured two pills into her hand and picked up a glass of water from the nightstand. Raymond took the pills, swallowed then sipped at water.

“I assume I’m no longer delirious and hallucinating. So, tell me,” he breathed heavily, “What exactly are you doing here?”

“I’m apparently making a house call.”

“How did you get in?”

“Jimmy. Your grandmother left the key with him.”

He nodded and smiled, “So that’s what you’re doing here. Mamma Lou sent you.”

“She was concerned so she asked me to stop by.”

He nodded his head slightly then placed his hand over his eyes. “Is it bright in here or is it me.”

Hope looked around the darkened room. “It’s you.”

She reached down and placed her hand on his forehead. He was warm but not as hot as he was earlier. “You still have a fever.”

“Thanks doc.”

She picked up a cold glass of water again. “Here,” she placed the glass to his lips, “you’re dehydrated. You need to drink more of this.”

Raymond caressed her with his eyes drawing an instant blush as Hope looked away. “You look tired.”

“I am,” she answered still holding the glass to him.

“Lay down.”

“I will, as soon as I get home.”

“No. Lay down here, next to me.”

“Raymond, my being here is a professional courtesy. I don’t lay down with my patients in ER and I have no intention of lying down here with you. Understood? Now, finish your water.”

Raymond smiled as he half sat up and took a few more sips from the glass. He collapsed as she placed the glass back on the nightstand. “You need to rest.”

“I intend to rest. I have the next few days off. I am going home to sleep for at least twenty hours.”

“You can sleep here.”

“You have one bed in a four bedroom apartment. So much for sleepovers.” She gasps silently, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Your personal life is none of my business.”

Raymond smiled weakly, “Doctor Hope Adams, frazzled, I kind of like that. And, I believe that now you are my personal business.”

“Drink,” she demanded softly holding the glass closer to his mouth.

“You’re not being very nice.”

“I know, drink.” He did, until the tall glass of water was empty. She placed the glass on the nightstand and sat down on the bed next to him. She placed her hand across his forehead and approvingly nodded.

“Still warm?” he asked. She nodded. He reached up and stroked the side of her face just as he had down in the cafeteria. This time she didn’t pull away. “You are so beautiful sitting there like that.”

“You’re delirious.”

“True. But you’re still beautiful.” She blushed.

He peeked under the sheets seeing that he was completely undressed. The dimple winked again. “One of us is entirely overdressed. See what you can do about that.” He yawned, lay back, and then promptly fell asleep.

Raymond’s tender words echoed through her mind as she stood and went into the bathroom. She turned on the faucet, took a washcloth from the basket, and then dipped it into the cool running water. Slowly she held the cloth to her face and let the coolness refresh her. After wringing the cloth dry she looked up at her reflection in the mirror.

Detached, she moved her face from side to side. She never considered herself as anything special. She had an average face with average features and an average body. Suddenly she smiled as naughty thoughts skipped through her head.
He said I was beautiful
. She dampened and puckered her lips, and yawned. She looked at her watch. It had gotten late, she was exhausted and going home at this hour would be ridiculous.

She walked back into the bedroom. She looked down at Raymond asleep then to the opposite side of the bed. Inviting, she decided to lie down on top on the comforter next to Raymond. The silky satiny softness was just what she needed to relax her. She rolled over and watched the slow rhythm of his breathing. She closed her eyes and fell right to sleep.

The dream was divine. Soft, warm, floating, she snuggled deeper into the curve of secured comfort. Breathing serenely, she drifted on a pool of still water troubled only by the molding of her body to the gentle waves. In luxurious self-indulgence, she bathed in lavish comfort. With a sigh of contentment, she snuggled deeper and closer to the source of her pleasure.

Soon her soothing solace became an arousing yearning as she felt the tender whispers of a tantalizing embrace. Against a caressing curve she murmured keeping her eyes closed for fear that the illusion would vanish. “What are you doing?” She moaned still half intoxicated by the feel of his body intimately pressed against hers.

“Kissing you,” he said as he continued to shower tiny kisses onto her shoulder. She savored the feel of his mouth.

“You can’t do that.” She moaned, half inaudible.

“Can’t do what?”

“That.”

“Oh,” he continued, “why not?”

“‘Cause.”

“‘Cause, isn’t a valid reason.” Raymond attested.

“‘Cause,” she began, than sighed deeply, and began again. Her voice was thick with emotion. “‘Cause it wouldn’t be right.”

“Why wouldn’t it be right?” Never moving his hands from his side, he continued kissing her tracing a burning trail of desire along the curve of her neck and shoulder. Hope squeezed her eyes tighter. The ember of desire made her body tremble.

“Because of the situation,” she barely rasped out.

“What situation?”

“Me, here, lying in your bed like this, with you. You’re still sick.”

Raymond didn’t answer. She turned and looked at his face and instantly saw the difference. “You shaved.”

“Don’t tell me that you prefer the beard?”

“What are you smiling about?”

“Technically we’ve just slept together.”

“Technically, I fell asleep on the opposite side of the bed while you were incapacitated. So, nothing happened.”

“The evening is young.” He smiled seductively.

She sighed pleasantly. “All that proves is that you were unconscious and I was exhausted. But now that we’re both,” he began kissing her shoulder again, “in our right mind. We can,” she moaned when he nibbled her earlobe. “We can, we can-” Raymond’s kisses drizzled to the hollow of her neck causing a series of tantalizing sensations to erupt. She shuddered, loosing track of her thoughts.

“Yes we can,” he readily agreed.

“Think more clearly.” She quickly added. Unfortunately, thinking more clearly was the last thing on her very clouded mind.

“I am thinking clearly.” Raymond assured her.

“Your temperature is close to 102 degrees. You’re hardly capable of a roll in the hay.”

“My temperature is 99.2. I’d hardly qualify that as critical.” Her expression questioned how he knew his exact temperature. “I got up while you were asleep.”

She looked down the length of him. He had slipped into a pair of sweatpants. “Be that as it may, you’re still sick.”

“You obvious don’t know me very well. I’m a man of many talents. This, you will learn.” He ran his finger down the length of her arm.