Flirting with the Doc of Her Dreams

CHAPTER THREE

“HELLO, BETH.”

Where was that cardiologist? Beth needed him. Pronto. Her heart was going to stop any moment. She was sure of it.

Dr. Eli Randolph was smiling at her, had just said her name.

He knew her name?

He’d said her name!

For no good reason except to speak to her. Had he ever done so before?

No. Never. She wasn’t even sure that he’d ever looked directly at her before lunch today. Definitely, they’d never locked eyes. He was looking now and, try as she might for fear of what he might see, she couldn’t break their eye contact.

A light shone in his twinkling blue gaze that she’d never seen before. She couldn’t quite label what she saw, but she couldn’t deny that a definite interest shone there.

Had whoever she’d texted with the night before revealed her secrets to Eli? Recalling his smile in the cafeteria, the phone in his hand, Beth swallowed. Had she texted with Eli the night before? Was that even possible? If so, was he toying with her because of the things she’d admitted while thinking she was talking to Emily? Or by some miracle was Eli actually interested in her? Had he intentionally texted her the night before and, dimwit that she was, she’d revealed her secret fantasies to him, not realizing who she was texting with?

Why would he have texted her? Not just texted, but sent a photo? Not really a risqué photo, but hot all the same. Nope. Her texter couldn’t have been Eli. Probably the guy from Administration had snagged her cellphone number from her employee records and when she’d stuck her foot in her mouth, he’d realized he didn’t stand a chance and had told Eli about her comments. A much more likely scenario.

So what was he doing now?

Tongue lassoed around her vocal cords to where speech was impossible, she blinked at him. Why was he still here? He never hung around the nurses’ station, making idle chitchat. Never that she knew of, at any rate. Until today. She’d steered clear as long as she could, checking and rechecking her patients. Each time she’d exited a room, he’d still been leaning up against the counter, making small talk with the unit secretary and two nurses standing there.

The infuriating man had hung around in the ICU as if he had nowhere else to go. Surely he had an office full of patients waiting to see him? Why are you still here? she’d wanted to scream. Leave.

But he hadn’t. Instead, he smiled down at her as if he knew her every secret.

He might.

“Beth?” he prompted, when she didn’t respond to his greeting.

“Drink of water,” she choked out past her bound-up vocal cords by way of explanation and took off down the hallway. She could feel his eyes on her, knew her colleagues had seen the interplay between them and also watched her scurry down the hallway as if competing for a gold medal.

Eli probably thought she was weird. Her colleagues probably thought she was weird.

She was weird.

The man of her dreams had gone out of his way to say something to her and she’d taken flight.

Why? She’d never been a tongue-tied ninny around men, but with Eli her brain shut down. Her body, on the other hand, went into hyperdrive, every sense more acute, making her feel more aware, more alive.

Too bad she couldn’t just act cool and suave around him, let him know she thought he was the cat’s meow.

More like the lion’s roar.

Beth crawled into her bed, exhausted from the fifteen-hour day she’d put in at the hospital yet wide awake.

No question as to why her eyes were bright and she was feeling bushy-tailed. Or as to why her brain was auditioning for the Indy 500 and gunning for pole position.

Eli.

First, in the cafeteria, smiling at her.

Then in the ICU, when he’d spoken directly to her for the first time ever.

She’d run away.

She closed her eyes and shook her head back and forth on her pillow, disgusted at herself. What was wrong with her? She’d dated before and never been so uncool around guys.

Then again, she hadn’t ever looked at any of the men she’d known and immediately wanted to get naked either. Eli Randolph made her clothes want to come off. No wonder she’d run. If she’d stuck around, she might have been arrested for indecent exposure.

Her phone buzzed on the night stand. Although not completely surprised by the noise, she jerked in her bed and grabbed for her phone.

A text.

Before she looked she knew who it would be from. The number.

But who was the person behind the number?

From the point she’d seen the phone in Eli’s hand in the cafeteria, she’d asked herself, What if? What if Dr. Eli Randolph had sent her a photo because he was interested in her? He was single, had apparently been single for a couple of weeks. It was possible. Highly unlikely, but possible.

Her phone may have just buzzed with a text from Eli.

Could it be true? Her heart raced just at the remote possibility. She clutched the phone tighter in her suddenly clammy palms and read the short message.

You awake?

No, she responded, because it was the first thing that popped into her mind.

Guess you’re dreaming, then.

Something like that.

I thought about you a lot today.

Shame on you.

I like that.

What?

That you make me laugh.

You should see me naked.

Had to be Eli, because there she went, trying to get rid of her clothes again.

Yes, I should.

Ha-ha. That really would make you laugh.

Doubtful, but you do make me smile. Want to know what else you make me do?

Wonder why she ran away when he said something to her? Assuming that she really was texting with Eli?

I’m all ears.

You make me really need to hear more about the things you’d do to Dr. Randolph if he were tied to your bed.

Because she was talking to Dr. Randolph? Somehow, she believed she was. The thought made her giddy happy and terrified and embarrassed all at once.

You perv.

You know you want to tell me.

Ha. That’s what u think. I never should have said those things to begin with.

Why? Because you don’t really want to stroke your tongue over Dr. Randolph’s entire body?

Was she talking to Eli? Was he asking her outright if she wanted him? Maybe it was better that she didn’t know a hundred percent. Much easier to be forthright when she might just be talking to a stranger whose path she’d never cross in real life.

I never should have told u. I thought u were someone else.

Emily?

Yes, my friend Emily.

What does your friend Emily say about you wanting to lick Dr. Randolph?

Oh, she’s all for it and says I should start slurping immediately now that he’s single and all. You were right on that, btw. Word spread like wildfire around the hospital this afternoon. How is it u knew he and Dr. Qualls had broken up before anyone else?

Was it because he was Dr. Randolph?

A little birdie told me.

Right. I have a little birdie in the middle of my hand that tells people who wake me up where they can go.

There you go making me laugh again.

I wasn’t trying to be funny.

Which makes it all the better.

If u say so.

I do. Sorry if I woke you, but now that we’ve established that you are indeed awake, tell me what you’re wearing.

Beth rolled her eyes at her phone.

Really? That is so cliché.

Then give me a cliché answer.

In the glow of her cellular phone Beth glanced under the bed covers at the old Nashville Predators T-shirt and the silky panties she wore. The panties were passable as sexy, maybe. The well-worn hockey T-shirt—ha, not by any stretch of the imagination.

A teddy and garters. Four-inch heels too. Customary sleepwear, you know.

Of course. Very cliché, but great visual.

Implying that he could visualize her. Of course he could visualize her. Whether it was Eli or some random guy, he’d sexted her specifically.

What are u wearing?

Who says I’m wearing anything at all.

Beth gulped. Okay, so it wasn’t an image of some random guy she was picturing. Just as always, her fantasy consisted of only one man. Eli in the buff, as the owner of that magnificent abdomen and chest from the photo.

Would be a shame to cover up those abs. That picture really u?

Would it matter if it wasn’t?

Depends.

On?

Your sparkly personality. That is why I’m texting with u after all.

Oh? I thought it was because you had a thing for pervs.

Beth smiled at his quick comeback.

Well, there is that.

You owe me.

I owe u nothing.

Sure you do.

What, please tell, do I owe u?

A picture.

She laughed. Not that he could hear her. But she laughed at the absolute absurdity of her sending him, whoever him was, a photo of herself. If it was Eli she was texting with, the last thing she’d want to do was scare him away with a selfie.

I wouldn’t hold my breath if I was u.

If I did would you resuscitate me?

Give you a little mouth-to-mouth?

Hadn’t she just that very day been thinking of Eli giving her mouth-to-mouth? If this was him, there really was some weird connection between them.

For starters

You implying it would take more than my mouth on yours to resuscitate you? Are u like old and decrepit or something? They make little blue pills for that u know.

I’m old enough to know what I want. Are you saying that your mouth on mine is all it would take to get me … resuscitated?

Ha, Beth thought, she was no siren and her experience wasn’t that she drove men wild with her kisses, but this was anonymous—sort of—texting. She could say whatever she wanted. She could be a sex goddess. A sext goddess. If this was Eli for real, well, at least while texting from the privacy of her own bed she wasn’t tongue-tied, breathless, or running away from him. She kind of liked the freedom their sexting gave her.

One stroke of my tongue across your lips and you’d go up in flames, Old Man.

Eli gulped. A real honest-to-God gulp. He was pretty close to going up in flames just at reading Beth’s text.

It had been all he could do at the hospital to keep from pulling her aside and commenting on their conversation the night before. He’d thought about doing so a hundred times. He’d wanted to. He’d wanted to ask her to dinner with him, to sit and talk and get to know her. Maybe do a little shopping for tying-to-the-bed rope afterwards.

Maybe if she hadn’t turned a pretty shade of pink and refused to say a full sentence to him, he would have at least issued the dinner invite. But she’d purposely avoided him. He was a hundred percent positive she’d stayed away from the nurses’ station as long as she could. Was that why he barely knew her despite the fact she’d worked at the hospital for several months? He had a vague memory of her starting four or five months previously. Of seeing her in the ICU, but it hadn’t really registered that he’d only seen her from a distance. Until today. Today he’d realized that it was a rare occasion that he’d directly had interaction with her regarding a patient.

His phone buzzed and he realized he hadn’t yet responded to Beth’s text. What would she say if he told her that her text, thoughts of her, had his entire body hard? That texting with her was the most fun, the most excitement he’d had in months? There might be something wrong with him that he hadn’t been able to commit to Cassidy, but even beyond that, there had been something wrong with him that he’d fallen into a horrible life rut, forgotten how to have fun, and hadn’t even realized it.

You fall asleep on me? she asked.

I wish.

Crazy, but he did wish that. Not until after he’d done a lot of other things with her but, yes, then he would like to fall asleep on Beth Taylor.

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