She wasn’t sure she’d ever want him to again, because just-okay-ever-after might not be good enough, after all.
Darn Lucas and the turmoil he’d caused. Saturday night and last night she’d dreamed about him, dreamed about the past. Not the tears or fights, but about the one part of their relationship that had been magical.
Sex.
She’d had no previous experience and sex had never been as mind-blowing since. How good things had been between them could only be credited to his skills. He’d made her feel amazing, loved, completely over the moon and satiated.
One touch of his hand had made her squirm with desire. One kiss from his lips had made her need him with a ferocity that had never failed to surprise her. One time with him and she’d been hooked like an addict with a potent new fix.
He’d been her drug.
Only, not long after their marriage, he’d bored of sex with her. Had he actually cheated on her?
She didn’t think so.
Despite their flawed marriage, she didn’t think he’d taken their vows that lightly. He’d told her to leave before he’d gone that far. Maybe she was being naive, but she truly didn’t think he had.
In the days since their divorce, she didn’t fool herself that he’d been abstinent. He’d enjoyed sex too much for that.
Darn him that just seeing him sitting and playing with a child had somehow morphed into thinking about sex. She wouldn’t be having sex with Lucas. Not ever again.
Which was a shame in some ways, because he’d certainly made her feel things physically she’d not felt since. Richard really wasn’t the guy for her. She needed to look for someone else, someone who wanted the same things out of life that she did, but was also good at sex.
Did such a mythical creature exist? So far her experience had been one or the other, but never the twain had met. She’d thought so with Lucas, but everything had fallen apart and left her devastated. So much for young love.
“You want to help with our puzzle?”
Emily blinked. Darn. He’d caught her staring at him and no wonder with how long she’d stood watching him, reminiscing about the past. Oh, yeah, Lucas being at Children’s was affecting her professionalism, and she hated it.
“Sorry.” Sorry she’d gotten caught. Sorry her cheeks were on fire. Sorry her mind had wandered. Sorry she couldn’t be immune to him. Sorry her body flushed when he was looking at her as if he somehow knew what she’d been thinking. “I need to check on Cassie. She’s due a vitals check.”
The child looked at her suspiciously. “Are you going to take my blood?”
Focusing on her patient and doing her best to ignore the man watching her, Emily shook her head, hating that this was always the first question Cassie asked. Poor kid. “No. I’m going to take your temperature, your blood pressure, your heart rate, your oxygen saturation. Those kinds of things. But no needles.”
Cassie digested her answer, then lifted her little chin bravely. “I don’t cry anymore when my blood is drawn.”
“That’s a very big girl,” Emily praised, wanting to wrap her arms around the child. “But it’s okay to cry sometimes.”
Cassie blinked. “Do you ever cry?”
She’d cried an ocean’s worth of tears over the man sitting across the table from Cassie. Until Saturday night after she’d returned home from the TBI fund-raiser, she’d not cried in a long time.
She’d watered up on the anniversary of the day she’d left, but even then she’d managed to choke back the tears and keep herself distracted from the grief she knew she’d carry to the grave.
Unfortunately, a few days later, she’d broken down and cried bucketfuls. That had been the last day she’d cried. Maybe she’d always cry on that particular date. Oh, how much she’d lost.
“I used to cry a lot,” she answered honestly. Lucas had hated her tears, had begged her not to cry, but usually that had left her only more tearful. “But I rarely cry these days.”
Just when her ex-husband showed up and rocked her world by saying he wanted to be her friend. Right.
Lucas’s gaze was intense, so much so it bore into her. She ignored him. Let him think what he wanted. She’d wondered if hormones had played into her constant tears, but perhaps Lucas had been the real cause.
“These days, what makes you cry, Emily?” Lucas asked, his fingers toying with the puzzle piece he held. Did he know she’d cried Saturday night? Did he want her to admit how much he’d affected her? Truly, he triggered strong emotions whether they were of happiness or sadness.
“Sad movies,” she answered flippantly. No way was she getting into a discussion about what brought on her tears.
“Me, too,” Cassie piped up and began to talk about a movie where a dog had died and she’d cried.
While Lucas watched, Emily removed the thermometer from the supply tray she carried. She took the girl’s temp across her forehead, took her blood pressure, clipped the pulse oximeter over the child’s finger and completed her vitals check.
Then she took her stethoscope and listened to the girl’s heart and lung sounds and jotted them down on a notepad she kept in her pocket. She’d record them into the computer electronic medical record when she returned to the nurses’ station.
“Is there anything you need, Cassie?” she asked.
Wincing a little, the little girl shook her head. “Just to finish this puzzle.”
Emily glanced down at the three-fourths completed puzzle. “Looks like you’re making good headway.”
“Dr. Cain is helping.”
“I’m not much help,” Lucas quickly inserted. “Cassie is the puzzle master. I’m just riding on her coattails.”
Emily’s throat tightened. She didn’t attempt to speak. Why bother? There was nothing to say even if he was kind to a child.
She fought to keep from frowning. Professionalism, she reminded herself. Professionalism.
Ugh. She had to get him out of her head.
Which had been a lot easier when he’d been out of her sight. Now that he was working at Children’s, she was going to have to learn a new strategy to keep Lucas from ruining her hard-earned peace.
Work. She’d focus on work.
She turned to Cassie’s mother, smiled. “Anything I can get for you, Mrs. Bellows?”
The woman shook her head and thanked Emily anyway.
Without a word to Lucas, she headed out of the room. Lucas joined her in the hallway seconds later.
“I’m sorry.”
That made three apologies. Seemed Lucas’s vocabulary had definitely expanded over the past five years.
“For?” she asked, not sure what it was that had him saying a word he used to be unable, or unwilling, to say.
“Saturday night.”
Her heart raced within her chest, using her lungs for punching bags and leaving her breathy. “There were so many things you should be sorry for about Saturday night. Enlighten me as to which you refer specifically.”
“All of it.”
She ordered her hands not to shake and her feet not to trip over each other. “All of it?”
“Well, not the buying your date part,” he amended, flashing a good imitation