“I can’t blame him this time, though, can I?”
“Just me,” Caleb reminded her.
“Well, that’s true,” she agreed readily. “But we’ll talk about that later. Right now, I’m worried about my patient arriving and the fact that I can’t get into my office.” She frowned and eyed the dainty diamond watch her parents had given her for her twenty-fifth birthday, one of the only pieces of jewelry she owned. “He should have been here by now. George isn’t the kind of person who shows up late. Not by a minute.” Worry knotted in her chest. “Can I use your phone to call my service?”
He relaxed against the side of his truck, snatched his phone off his belt and handed her a BlackBerry. Shay hesitated before making her call, feeling stuck between a rock and a hard place. “I have to have a phone number where my service can reach me. Can I give them your number until I can swing by a store and pick up a temporary phone?”
“Just keep my phone until tomorrow,” he said. “You can give it back when we meet up at the house to see your parents off. By then, we’ll have your keys, and phone, in hand.”
“What if you need your phone?”
“I’m not a doctor,” he said. “And I don’t mind.”
Reluctantly, she agreed, and a few minutes later, Shay hung up with her answering service and dialed the number they’d given her for George, then updated Caleb. “He didn’t call to cancel. I’m really worried now. He hasn’t shown up, yet he was desperate to reach me. This isn’t like him.”
“Maybe the service screwed up,” Caleb offered. “Lost a call.”
“Maybe,” she said, hoping he was right. George’s phone rang three times before his answering machine picked up. Shay covered the phone. Using Caleb’s phone number for her service and handing out his number to patients were two different things. “Can I leave this number for the patient directly?”
“Anything to help,” he said, and Shay felt a flutter in her stomach. He meant it. Anything. He was that kind of person. Always had been. It wasn’t that he had kissed her or wanted to kiss her again. It was just Caleb.
Shay left a message on George’s phone. “I have a really bad feeling about my patient.” She fisted her hand at her belly. “Right here. A knot. I have his address on my laptop at home. I need to go get that and stop by and check on him.” Then she eyed her car. “Of course, I can’t drive anywhere, and I don’t have keys to get into my house. And the dealership is going to be closed.” She pressed her hand to her forehead. “Great.”
Caleb reached for her and gently pulled her against him. “But you have me.”
“Caleb,” she said, her hands settling on his arms, fully intending to chide him for the intimacy he was creating, but knowing it wouldn’t be convincing even to her own ears. The truth was, this wasn’t the first time Caleb’s quiet strength and cool sensibilities had calmed her frazzled nerves. He had a way of bringing her down a notch, while Kent—bless her brother’s loving heart—had a way of taking her up a notch.
“Your house, I can get into,” Caleb assured her. “And I can take you to pick up a key at the dealership tomorrow, either before or after we go see your parents off. As for going by your patient’s house, it seems smarter to have the police check in.”
She shook her head in rejection. “I can’t do that,” she said. “If nothing is wrong, he’ll feel I’ve betrayed his confidence, invaded his privacy. I’ll lose the ability to help him.”
“Does he live in an apartment?” he asked. “The leasing office could check on him.”
Her brows dipped. “I don’t know, but that’s a great idea. We could…I mean I…” It was so easy to use that word—we. They’d been we many times growing up. Another kiss and suddenly she was questioning if it was okay to use that word.
She stepped away from his arms. “We should go.” We. She’d said we again.
“Yes,” he said softly, holding on to her hand despite her step backward, bringing her hand to his lips. “We should go.” He dropped her hand and held open the door.
Soon they were in the truck together, and Shay felt the crackling awareness that had lived between them for so many years shift and change to a relaxed intimacy. She wasn’t going to kid herself. She wanted him. If he pushed her hard enough—heck, if he pushed her at all—she’d be naked with him in two seconds flat. So she set her resolve on one small goal. Don’t get naked with him tonight. Give him until tomorrow, when she was sure his cold feet would kick in.