Houston was a loner at the hospital as well, and she thought maybe they had more in common than he could ever realize. While Josie was friendly with everyone, she was close to very few people, and lately she had been feeling the same way Sara had. Lonely.
“These women, they want to date him because he is so handsome and he’s a doctor. They flip their blond hair and expect fancy dinners and flowers, but no one ever tries to get to know my son, to understand him. When the right woman takes the time to see him for what he is, they’ll find a good man worth keeping forever.”
Josie made a noncommital sound.
Fran shook her finger. “But then he’s my son. I’m partial to him.”
Josie wasn’t sure why they were having this conversation except that maybe Houston’s mother was getting tired of waiting for more grandchildren. Or maybe she figured a wife or girlfriend would keep Houston’s refrigerator filled with edible food, saving her a trip to the grocery store.
Either way, she got the feeling Fran either approved of her or was politely warning her to stay the hell away. The jury was still out.
“I...admire him.” She did. As a doctor. As a man. As the reason behind her having three orgasms in rapid succession. “I want to be Houston’s friend.”
Horizontal, naked friend.
Fran Hayes nodded thoughtfully. “Good. Then maybe you can help me out by checking in on Houston once in a while. I work retail and my hours are crazy. I took a few days off, but I need to go back to work and my daughter is useless with sick people. Plus she has to bring her kids and Houston spends the whole time trying to look like he’s not in pain so he doesn’t scare them.”
Josie had no problem picturing that. She remembered how he had spoken about his nieces.
“And when Kori came without the girls and tried to change the dressing on his leg, she ended up gagging and running outside for fresh air.”
Josie laughed. “That’s a common reaction. But trust me, I can handle it. I help Houston saw people’s bones down—a few sutures won’t bother me. Especially since I’m the one who stitched him up. I’d like to check out my handiwork.”
“Great.” Fran beamed at her, like they had reached a female understanding.
Josie smiled back for a different reason. If Houston protested her popping up on his doorstep, she’d just tell him his mother had sent her.
The next day Josie rang Houston’s doorbell wearing denim shorts and a loose T-shirt, carrying crab legs from Barnacle Bill’s in a big bag.
Houston didn’t answer the door. But then, she figured he probably didn’t want to limp to the door when he wasn’t expecting anyone, and his mother would have a key. She tried the knob. It was unlocked and she was in luck. Which was good, because she couldn’t eat this much crab in a week.
“Hello?” she called as she entered his foyer. “It’s me, I brought you dinner.”
There was no response and Josie wandered past his empty living room to the kitchen. Houston was sitting at the glass table, a news magazine propped in front of him, eating strawberries. He glanced up at her then bit another berry, taking the whole thing in his mouth to the green stem.
“Is that your dinner?”
“Yes.” He tossed the stem down and pointedly looked down at his phone as he chewed.
Like that was going to stop her. “Well, hello. How was your day? It’s nice to see you, too.” She plunked the bag down on the table.
“Josie.” He looked at her, his expression pained. “No offense, but I’m not in the mood for company.”
“Which is exactly why you need company.”
“There’s no logic in that statement,” he said, eyeing the bag on the table.
Despite his recent ordeal, Josie had to admit that Houston looked good enough to eat. He was unshaven, scruffier than she’d ever seen him, and bare-chested. His olive-colored shorts hung loose on his waist and enhanced the surfer-bum image, which she found really sexy. Of course, he could be dressed like Santa and she’d find him sexy. And a beard could tickle in some really interesting places...Knock it off, Josie.
He kept his injured hand in his lap, and his leg was stillwrapped, but he didn’t look like he was in any major discomfort today.
“It makes perfect sense to me,” she said, opening the bag and pulling out a plastic box, setting it in front of Houston, and popping the top open. The pungent aroma of fresh seafood filled the air.
“You’re not going to leave, are you?” he asked, fingers reaching for the crab before he caught himself and stopped.
“Nope. Not a chance. We’re going to eat dinner and talk and you’re going to tell me all about the mysterious things you said while you were on the diamorphine.”
That got his attention. Houston’s eyes locked with hers. “Why? What did I say?”