A Doctor’s Folly–Wrong Kiss

Hello fellow fiction lovers. I hope you enjoyed our previous Fiction Fun theme “First Kiss Interrupted By and Animal.” Today, we are moving on to a new theme: “Wrong Kiss.” I hope you enjoy the story of Jeannette Weisman as she learns something new about the world around her. Tee hee hee.

 

A Doctor’s Folly

            Doctor Jeannette Weisman adjusted the name tag on her lab coat lapel and fluffed her blonde hair in the bathroom mirror. Was the tag high enough for people to see? Was the title “Dr.” bold enough? She loved that label—Dr. Jeannette Weisman. She loved it so much she’d had the nametag special made with the Dr in big black letters. She’d worked for it. Now she planned to flaunt it.

If only the badge didn’t always hang lopsided. She adjusted it again as she pushed through the lavatory door.

“Umph!” Neanderthal man, Chance Stevenson’s gray, t-shirt-wearing, sweaty back ran right into her elbow, forcing the nametag pin into her thumb.

“Ouch!” Jeanette sucked on the puncture wound.

Chance pivoted, almost swiping her with the wet, sudsy mop in his hands. “Oh … sorry …uh …” He peered close to the nametag in mock concentration. “Doctor Weisman.” He didn’t sound sorry.

So what if she stressed her title to him when they first met. Just because other doctors went by their first names didn’t mean she had to. Lots of doctors still expected the title used.

She squared her shoulders and didn’t waver from his gaze. He looked down as if to point to the wet, gray, tile floor with his eyes, then back to meet hers.

“Oh.” She stepped out of his mop-swooshing path and headed down the hall.

Neanderthal!

Jeannette leaned over the nurse’s station counter. “Angel, do you have Mr. Wortman’s chart?”

Angel tapped at the keys in front of her and looked up. “Not yet, Dr. Weisman. I’ll get right to it.”

Jeannette stood sentry over the counter. She liked Angel. Friendly, but not the most efficient nurse on the orthopedic surgery wing. She tapped her pen on a clipboard. Angel, finally catching the hint, lifted out of her rolling chair and headed back to the wall of charts.

“Hi, Gorgeous.” The warm smell of Grayson Vale’s cologne reached Jeannette even before she felt his breath on her ear.

“Doctor.” Jeannette shot a glance toward Angel’s back. “Remember, we agreed. No public display of affection at the hospital.”

His smile slid up on one side. “Then how about the private kind?”

She sucked in a breath. “Where this time?”

“Supply closet. Ten minutes.” His manicured nail clicked on the crystal of his Rolex.

She raised her Timex and calculated. “See you there.”

A sparkle enflamed his blue eyes. “Uh-uh. No lights.”

The chill running up her spine almost made her giggle. But she wouldn’t do that. Doctors didn’t giggle.

His eyes lingered on hers before he strolled away.

“I don’t know what you see in him.”

How long had Angel been right behind her?

Angel shook her head. “He just strikes me as a conniver.” The nurse would think that. She wouldn’t know culture if it struck her with a Stradivarius.

Jeannette accepted the file Angel held out to her. “That’s right, you go for the strong, silent type.” She suppressed an eye roll and thrust a thumb in Neanderthal’s direction. He sloshed the mop in the bucket before squeezing it in the ringer.

A dreamy look flooded Angel’s expression.

Jeannette blew a sigh. “I, however, prefer a man with a solid work ethic. Not one that’s always late coming back from breaks.”

“Who? Chance?” Angel dropped her gaze to her fingers clicking along the keyboard. “That’s only when he’s up in the Pediatric Cancer Ward.”

A pang of guilt clenched Jeannette’s chest. “Does he have a child up there?”

Angel shook her head with a chuckle. “No. He just plays guitar and sings for the kids.” Her smile grew as her eyes practically glazed over. “That’s why he usually comes back whistling a lively tune.”

Hm. And Jeannette just figured he’d been flirting with the cafeteria lady.

Angel dropped her chin in her palm. “Sometimes he’s up there building climbers for the play room. He’s real good with his hands.”

Did she just sigh that last statement?

Jeannette jerked her wrist up to check her watch. “Oh. I have an appointment.”

Angel lifted her eyes to meet Jeannette’s. “I’m sure you do.”

Jeannette turned from Angel’s probing gaze and raced down the hall. Neanderthal man had completed his floor massage, so she needn’t circumvent his broad shoulders. However, she’d take care not to slip on the wet floor he left behind.

Which hall was that closet on anyway? She peered left and right until her line of sight hit the nameplate. Supply Closet.

A wicked grin twisted her lips as she opened the door. Dark. That’s right, Grayson said no lights.

She moved gingerly through the space, feeling her way, to where she heard someone apparently unscrewing a light bulb. Did Grayson want to reduce the risk of detection by removing the light all together? Her smile grew. Genius!

She maneuvered closer to him and took in a long breath. His cologne wasn’t as strong. He must spray it on his lab coat, because he apparently wasn’t wearing either.

Jeannette slid one hand around his waist. “Found you.”

He stiffened.

Her other hand found his face, and she pulled him closer. His kiss was reluctant, soft, but melted into her as it deepened. She took in another breath. He attracted her even more without the cologne. It no longer over shadowed the man.

His hand crept around her … hesitantly. This was different. Unlike Grayson’s usual forcefulness, it was tender. She liked it. Maybe it had something to do with the light being out. They’d have to do this again.

“What?!” The bulb overhead flashed in Jeannette’s eyes as the exclamation reached her ears. Grayson’s voice … by the door, hand poised on the light switch.

She blinked as her pupils adjusted, and peered into the face of the man whose embrace she’d just relished.

Neanderthal was smiling.