Amy Ruttan – Navy Doc On Her Christmas List (страница 8)

“Traumatic experiences can do that. I’m sorry your last tour was so hard.”

“It wasn’t,” he snapped. “I wish you’d let it go.”

“Zac, you had a near meltdown when those lights when out and then at Charles’s wedding...”

“What about Charles’s wedding?”

“The corks popping? You ducked under the table,” she said.

“I dropped my napkin. I don’t recall corks popping.” He laughed. “It’s absurd to think I’d hide from something like that. Really.”

“And the lights-going-out thing?”

“A momentary lapse. I have it under control. Just like the kiss. It was a lapse and it won’t happen again.”

Her cheeks heated in embarrassment. It stung that he was apologizing for something that had been wonderful, even if she hadn’t wanted it to happen again.

Liar.

“It’s okay. It was my fault. As for that not-sleeping thing, do you want to talk about it?”

“No, there’s nothing to discuss,” he said matter-of-factly. “I had a bit of insomnia, trying to get into the routine of working at Manhattan Mercy and living in New York again and not on a naval base or on a ship.”

“I bet that’s quite an adjustment,” she said, pushing him, and when he frowned at her, his eyes narrowing, she realized that perhaps she shouldn’t push him too far. Although there had been a time when they’d been younger when she and Zac had shared a lot.

This closed-off attitude...this wasn’t like Zac.

How do you know? You didn’t think Zac could hurt you like he did, but he did. He humiliated you. You don’t know him.

“It is.”

“Okay, but I’m here if you ever need to talk.”

“Thanks.” There was no sincerity in that remark. He wasn’t grateful, his tone was annoyed. And she knew there would be no discussion. Zac had thrown up a wall.

Even when they’d been young, there had been a wall. He’d hidden his emotions well. He’d played with a poker face, which was why she’d been duped all those years ago. For a brief moment she’d seen past the rebel and she’d got to see a glimmer of what she thought was the real Zac Davenport, the one she’d known before he’d become a teenager and a man, but after he’d humiliated her, she hadn’t known what to believe.

She didn’t trust him.

And she was having a hard time trusting him and his surgical abilities right now.

What if something else set him off?

Another loud noise?

He says he’s cleared.

Still, she knew what she’d seen at Charles’s wedding.

But she really had no proof so she could pull him.

The staffroom was thankfully empty and she poured herself a cup of tepid coffee and dumped a lot of sugar into it. It was probably more than was good for her, but she needed the boost. She sank down in the same chair she had been in earlier.

“Well, at least there’s no nurses lying in wait with plastic mistletoe like this morning,” he joked.

“They’re two emergency room nurses. Do you even remember their names?” she challenged.

“Uh, no...”

She shook her head. “You should get to know your staff better.”

He crossed his arms. “Oh, and what’re their names, then? Do you remember?”

Damn.

She always referred to them in her head as gold-digger one and two.

“Carol and...”

Zac grinned smugly. “You don’t know. Now who’s distancing who? You should really know your staff better.”

“I don’t distance myself from anyone.”

“Yeah, right. Those interns are terrified of you. You’re so formal. There’s a wall up around you, Dr. Lockwood.”

You’re one to talk about walls.

But she kept that thought to herself.

“I could easily page them and they’d be here in a flash,” she teased, changing the subject.

“No, thanks,” he said, and he sat down with a sigh, craning his neck to watch the snow still swirling and blowing outside. “Want to make a bet?”

“What?”

“Remember when we were younger we’d make bets? Like how long would it take for Charles to notice how many spitballs I could launch at the back of his head or who could outrun my brother Elijah after we prank-called his girlfriend?”

Ella chuckled. “Right, and we’d wager things like candy and stuff. I don’t have any candy.”

“How about a dare?”

She cocked her eyebrow. “Seriously? A dare? What’re you, like twelve?”

“You’re not chicken, are you?” Those blue eyes twinkled.

“No, but I am a professional and I have a reputation to uphold.”

Zac snorted. “Oh, yeah, I heard about that reputation. The bulldog, I believe it was referred to as.”

“Bulldog?” Her voice rose an octave and then she cleared her throat, annoyed by her nickname. “I’m hardly a bulldog.”

“It has nothing to do with appearance. Well, other than your height and the fact that you charge through. Tough.”

“Fine. I like that better.”

“You do have a lot more gumption than you did when you were younger. It’s refreshing.” He was giving her a compliment, but it embarrassed her instead. There was a reason she kept people at a distance and it was Zac’s fault.

It was easier than letting people in.

It was because of the way he’d humiliated her, crushed her hopes. The way he’d brushed her aside so easily that had made her work hard to overcome her debilitating shyness and stick up for herself. In a way she should thank him.

Still, the hurt was still raw, because Zac had been the one person she’d thought would never hurt her. She’d thought they were friends. And then more than friends.

“Medical school was tough. You don’t become a surgeon by hiding in the corner.”

“I never understood why you hid in a corner,” he said.

Don’t you?

“It’s hard to have a voice with a domineering mother.” She cleared her throat and changed the subject, didn’t want to talk about the way she had been. She was no longer that shy little girl in the frumpy clothes. The girl who was never comfortable in her own skin. The girl who was unpopular and shy. “So what did you want to bet on?”

“Snowfall. How many inches do you think?”

Ella snorted. “That’s a pretty pathetic bet.”

“What?” he asked, mildly outraged. “Why?”

“If we’re going to wager dares then you have to make the bet more interesting.”