Daddy On Call. Judy Duarte

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      Early the next morning, when his shift was over, Luke did something he rarely did; he went to check on a patient he’d handed over to specialists.

      But it wasn’t just any patient.

      It was Carrie Summers, who was in a coma.

      He read her chart, then spoke to the nurse who’d been assigned to her. Carrie was, so far, holding her own.

      On his way out of the ICU, he stopped by the waiting room where he spotted Leilani seated on a sofa. She was wearing the same white blouse and black slacks she’d had on last night, rumpled clothing that indicated she hadn’t gone home to sleep.

      Somewhere along the way she’d unclipped the silver barrette she’d been wearing and let her hair down. It was shoulder length now, but just as glossy as it had been before. Just as tempting to touch.

      She glanced up when he entered. “Is something wrong?”

      Yeah, there was something wrong. He’d been getting by just fine until she snuck back into his life. And now she had him dancing around the past like a Mexican jumping bean. “No problem. So far, so good.”

      She merely stared at him, as though wondering why he’d stopped by. And he was just as perplexed as she was. After all, twelve years ago she’d made no secret of the fact that she no longer considered him a friend, let alone a lover. And he’d never been one to plead or beg.

      But there was something drawing him to her. Something that was unsettled, unfinished. Unsaid.

      So he made an excuse for stopping by. “I just got off duty and wanted to check on her before heading home.”

      That reason ought to fly, especially since Leilani had no way of knowing that wasn’t his usual style.

      “You work nights?” she asked.

      “Yeah.”

      “Must be tough.”

      Not for Luke. “I like the action. More gunshots, stabbings.”

      “I suppose you’d find that exciting.”

      He wasn’t sure what she meant. He hoped she wasn’t referring to his early years, when he’d gotten into his share of scuffles. Or that month he’d spent at juvenile hall. Actually, he was talking about having the opportunity to practice emergency medicine, to use the skills he’d perfected.

      “I never expected you to become a doctor,” she added.

      Neither had Luke. It had taken tragedy, heartbreak and a lucky draw like crossing paths with Harry Logan for him to make that kind of a turn. But he supposed she wouldn’t care to hear about it. “I’ve always had an aptitude for science.”

      “I know. You tutored me in chemistry, remember?”

      He remembered everything. The scent of her as she leaned over him in the library, the way her hair sluiced over his cheek. The difficulty he had focusing on the problem at hand, rather than his raging hormones. “Thanks to me, you got an A.”

      “No. I believe it was a B-plus. But it would have been an F without your help.”

      God, it was strange, skating around the past. But he wasn’t ready to jump head-first into it, either. So he decided to use a little humor to take the edge off the reality. “I had to knock several honor students on their butts in order to have a chance to tutor the pretty new girl.”

      Actually, there was a lot of truth to that. The moment he’d laid eyes on her, he’d been swept off his feet and would have done anything just to be alone with her.

      He wanted to ask if she’d ever gone on to college, like she’d planned. Whether she’d gotten a degree of any kind. But that would only lead them to the reason she’d left town.

      And the reason she’d never talked to him again.

      Instead, he nodded toward the sofa. “I see you spent the night here.”

      “Carrie doesn’t have any family, so I felt as though I ought to stay.” Leilani combed her hand through her hair, her fingers snagging on a tangle before busting free. “And I agreed to be her baby’s godmother and promised to look after him if…anything happened to her.”

      “Dr. Gray has managed to stave off contractions,” he said, figuring Arlene had already told her the baby’s chances of survival if it was born now.

      “I know.” She bit down on her bottom lip, something she used to do when they were friends.

      And lovers.

      At the time, Leilani’s heart was as big as the Pacific, although little good that did him. Once her brother died, she’d refused to hear Luke’s side of the story, refused to let him apologize. Would she now? Had enough time passed?

      Had anything changed?

      Not on the part of his hormones. He couldn’t help being drawn to her.