We All Sleep Alone (Finley Creek #11) - Calle J. Brookes Page 0,94

big guy she had ever seen. She had gone completely pathetic. All it had taken was one small puppy to change her worldview so completely. The sex was one thing—seeing how gentle he was with a helpless, vulnerable puppy had cemented it for her.

She was almost as bad as Lacy, Jillian, Nikkie Jean, and Annie.

If Annie and Nikkie Jean could only see her now.

“I suppose I could pick him up every morning after my shift. Or we can trade him off in the parking lot each morning and each evening.” She would be going back to thirds. It made the most sense. That’s where she was established—mostly thirds, some overlapping seconds. Pre-Henedy. As head of trauma surgery—and the surgical department in general, and the de facto assistant chief of medicine—Allen worked days. Very rarely and usually when he was covering for someone or working an emergency did their schedules overlap. That would leave evenings for them to be together, before she went to work and after he came home. “We’re not going to see each other very often when we get home, are we?”

“Do you want to?”

He was all serious now. He was asking her for what she wanted. It was now or never, Izzie just had to make the choice. She looked deep into his gray eyes and just said it. “I think I’d like that very much.”

Allen wasn’t an idiot. He knew exactly what they were talking about.

He slipped his hands around her waist and lifted her as well as he was able to in the small confines of the van. “We can make it happen. As long as the two of us work together.”

“You know there will be talk, at the hospital. Especially if we stick to the stories that Nikkie Jean has probably spread around by now.”

“I don’t care. We’ve both been the victims of the hospital gossip hotline. We survived before; we’ll survive it again. I know what matters most to me.” It wasn’t exactly a declaration of unending love for either of them, but it was a start. “When do you think we’ll get to go home?”

“I don’t know.”

Izzie wasn’t certain she ever wanted to. She…wanted to stay in their own private world. Wanted to forget all the plans, obligations, responsibilities—everything even associated with Finley Creek.

She just wanted to be with him.

Tears sprang to her eyes.

He noticed. Allen noticed everything about her. Damn him.

He was more attuned to her than any other man ever had been. Hot hands went around her. He pulled her closer. She sprawled over his hard chest, careful of the healing stitches on his shoulder.

Her eyes met his. Honesty. They owed each other total honesty.

“Allen…I…don’t want this to end. I want to see what can…happen. If I stop being so scared.”

It was the most terrifying sentence she had ever spoken since she had asked a social worker to let her live with her uncle after her mother’s death, instead of tracking down the father who really hadn’t wanted her to begin with.

This felt just as terrifying, just as real, just as vital as that day had.

Her life had changed after that moment eleven years ago.

She had the feeling it was about to change now, too.

“Then it won’t.” He hauled her closer, his fingers going to cup the back of her head. Izzie melted against him. “We’ll make certain of it.”

“I—” A relationship—a real relationship with commitment and trust—scared her straight to her toes. Giving a man that kind of power over her brought a vulnerability she had never felt before.

“I know. But I will never intentionally hurt you. I need you far too much to ever let that happen.”

He meant it. She believed him.

Izzie leaned forward. Met him halfway.

She wanted to feel his arms around her again.

Before she knew it, they were stretched out on that ridiculously comfortable bed, learning more about each other than she ever could have imagined.

It felt absolutely perfect to be with him.

77

“Relax, Jenny. I’ve taken care of it.” Kyle sent her a cool smirk. Jennifer had always hated when he looked at her like that. “I found them. It was pretty simple.”

“Them?” At first she’d thought he meant Wallace’s journals. That’s what she had been after. But no, it was something else. Something that had more of a payout. Or he would be looking at her that matter. “Who did you find?”

“Both. Dr. Jacobson. The nurse. Together.”

“They’re together?” Perfect, just fucking perfect. A woman like Izadora McNamara would have gone for a man like Dr.