Grumpy Doctor’s Holiday Twins (Forbidden Doctors #17)

14. Ethan

14

ETHAN

W hen John asked me to sit in on interviews for the final round this week, I passed on it. I'd made my peace with this place after telling Melody I was leaving. The memory of her skin against mine was imprinted on my consciousness so deeply, it satisfied the part of my heart that missed her, and now I was ready to go. I didn't need to be reminded that there was life here in Mistletoe that I'd be missing, and listening to John tell those interviewees how amazing this place was just didn't sound like fun.

I got a coffee and headed out toward the nurses’ station to follow up with a few orders I'd given the nighttime charge nurse, and a familiar voice caught my attention. The mellow laughter of a warm baritone voice and the tinkling soprano I knew to be Melody's laughter forced me to turn and see them smiling and enjoying their time. It only reminded me of how insanely jealous I'd been and how I came here Saturday evening to find out what the heck was going on.

She'd given me the impression that Hart was nothing, yet here she was again looking very cozy with him. The same knife of envy sliced through my chest, but I closed my eyes and visualized myself getting on that plane out of O'Hare that would carry me straight to Copenhagen and my new job as pediatric chair for my dream job. It didn't squelch all the crazy emotion, but it anchored me in the present, at least. I was able to approach the nurses' station where they stood without feeling like throat punching the man.

"Hey, Dr. Sinclair," Melody said, her eyes full of compassion toward me. I read so much in that one simple gaze that made my head spin, and I hated it. I was supposed to be steady and settled, and one glance from her could make me come undone.

"Good morning, Ms. Winters." My cold exterior was nothing new. I was a serious man anyway, always had been, and I'd shaken off the Christmas blues as much as I could. The holiday would be over in three weeks and we'd be counting down to our New Year's resolutions.

"Hey, Doc, do you have any preference on how we spend your money for the department float?" Dr. Hart spoke directly to me, and I gritted my teeth. I avoided looking at him as I scanned the small area for any other nurse present with whom I could confirm my orders from last night were followed, but there was no one else around. I hated that he was even talking to me, especially about the float.

Melody and I were supposed to do that, and while I passed on it because I didn't have any interest, it irked me that he'd taken my spot. Not one of the other nurses, or even a female doctor. That man. The one who was trying to slide right into the spot I had fit so nicely.

I looked up at Melody, ready to grumble that it really didn't matter, but I could see it really mattered to her. I knew it in my gut, too, that she'd care what I said. These sorts of things meant something to her even though they were pointless. I thought of her kids and her family and how even the slightest bit of work stress affected me in my off hours, and I could just be a grouch.

"What do you want to do with it?" I asked, sighing. The tediousness of this season was grating.

"Well, Dr. Hart wants to do the North Pole scene with reindeer and Santa's sleigh, but I'm worried the reindeer won't be such a good idea. I'm thinking large Christmas packages wrapped with shiny paper and bows, maybe with seats inside and staff inside them. They could have their own heaters and…" Melody's voice trailed off, and I felt like my scowl was discouraging her. Her idea wasn’t half bad, though neither was Hart’s. I just didn't see the city or the hospital approving that.

"It's so boring, though." Dr. Hart nudged her ribs with a finger, and I saw the way she looked uncomfortable when he did so, but she smiled like always.

"Honestly," I told them, "I like the idea of the large gifts. The staff will be warmer and more comfortable that way." I was quick to take her side, but it wasn't so I could woo her. I had to remind myself that I was leaving. The picture of me setting foot on Dutch soil was what mattered.

"See, I told you," she blurted out, and Dr. Hart waved a hand in dismissal of her rebuttal. The banter continued between them, and Hart took it in stride, but I didn't want to stand and listen.

Just being around her made me want to stay in spite of knowing how much torture it would be. There were so many things tethering me here now, and I had to cut them again and again. My feet wanted to grow roots where I didn't belong because I had feelings for her that shouldn’t exist. My place was out on the road, not here.

"How much?" I asked, reaching for my wallet. I had to shut them up.

"Oh, gosh, I'm not sure." Melody bit her lip. She could see how frustrated I was. I read the look on her face.

"It's going to take all week, though," Dr. Hart said. "I'll probably be here every evening. And Melody, you don't have to worry about supper. I get off before you, so I can bring it."

Hart's comment as I slid my card across the counter to her made jealousy engulf my heart again. Them together, alone, all week? No, I couldn’t do that. My chest felt like someone had dropped hot coals on it.

"I'll come too," I blurted out before realizing what I was saying. Her fingertips brushed mine as she took the card, and our eyes met.

"But you hate Christmas, and you hate the cold." I let her slide the card out from under my grasp, and I had no rebuttal.

I did hate both of those things, but what I hated more was the thought that Lucas Hart had any connection with her. "I'll be here," I grumbled, and I turned and walked away.

I didn't even know why I was letting that man get to me so badly. I was leaving town to do the thing I loved most. I could never go back to her, not after how she broke my heart. And even if I did, it would mean staying here and losing my future for a woman who had obviously already moved on. She had another man's twins to prove it. I was a fool, and I hated myself for being so weak and jealous. But I couldn’t help myself. My heart wanted what it wanted.