position when the coughing stopped.
“It’s nothing,” she assured again before I had a chance to say anything.
“Look after your patient, Chloe. I’ll be right back.” Time for a real thermometer.
Molly obediently lifted her tongue when I returned, though her eyes shot daggers at me.
“Have you had the flu shot?” I asked.
She responded with a nonverbal shake of the head. After a minute or so, I pulled the thermometer out of her mouth. 101.3. Low grade fever. I combed my fingers through my hair, pulling on the ends in frustration. This was my fault. I shouldn’t have let her and Chloe go to the playdate with Brad having been sick. Whatever virus he’d hosted, Molly had picked it up.
I looked down at my wristwatch. My shift started in an hour. Should I call Drew and see if he could cover for me? He’d already been on for twelve hours, but I’d seen him go twice that long on his feet. Dr. Feinburg would need to be notified as head of the department. Calling in wouldn’t be ideal—rather, another dock on my reputation at the hospital, at least in Feinburg’s eyes. But what else could I do? Molly needed someone to take care of her. Not to mention Chloe. I wasn’t about to leave them.
“I’m perfectly fine, Ben.” Molly sat up, setting her glasses back on her face. The lenses only accentuated the feverish shine of her eyes. “You should start getting ready for work.”
“And you should lie back down.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “I’m going to try and find someone to cover my shift.”
“I thought you said you were on fairly thin ice at the hospital anyway. Isn’t the night float duty a punishment? What do you think will happen if you call in when you aren’t even the one who’s sick?”
I ratcheted my head up from my phone to meet her gaze. “I’ll have to cross that bridge when I get to it. Chloe can’t take care of you, and you can’t take care of Chloe. Not when you’re sick. The two of you need me.”
Molly got her hands under her to help push herself off the couch, mumbling something under her breath that sounded like, “We do need you.” On her feet, she raised her chin. “A low-grade fever isn’t a big deal.”
My feet moved to square off with her. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to argue with your doctor?”
“You’re not my doctor.”
No, I wasn’t. And good thing, because a doctor should never be having thoughts about his patients like I was having about Molly. Even sick she was beautiful—fire in her eyes and a rosy hue to her flawless skin. A need to feel the softness of her, the revitalizing strength she seemed to possess, overcame me. I wished I hadn’t found the thermometer so I could press my lips to her forehead in a ruse to feel for a fever the way my mother had done with me as a child. But the yearning fanning the heat in my middle bore no resemblance to parental affection and every likeness to that of a man longing for a woman.
“I don’t want you to get into trouble,” Molly said.
Trouble? Would it be trouble to finally give in to the hunger that caused my belly to ache when I looked at her? I tried to recall the reasons I’d given Drew as to why I couldn’t pursue a relationship with this woman, but I came up blank. All I could remember was how right it had felt to have her lips pressed against mine and how much I wanted her back in my arms.
“What about my mother?”
My insides shuddered as though they’d just been doused in cold water. “Your mother?”
She nodded. “Would you be more comfortable if I called my mom and asked her to come over? She could take care of me, although I don’t need it, and Chloe as well, since you think I’m not capable in my current state.”
Molly swayed, and I reached out to catch ahold of her arm to steady her. I pinned her with a look. “I’m not saying another word until you lie down.”
She huffed but lowered herself back to the couch. I tucked the blanket around her, my fingers twitching to stroke her silky hair. Instead, I curled each digit into my palm.
“Happy?” Sarcasm laced her question.
Hardly. Not with her inches away. So close but still so far out of reach.
I glanced over at Chloe playing contentedly