Chapter Four

And now here he stood, saying her name in that way, that way that only he could say it, and her heart jumped, stopped, sped up, almost simultaneously.

But he’d asked her a question, and she scrambled to pull herself together enough to form words and an answer.

“Are you taking care of Noah?” she asked, praying to every god in the heavens that he was. “You’re his doctor?”

“I am.” Sam smiled at her and her treacherous body started to heat up, a slow, languid heat that moved like lava and burned just as scorching hot. “He’s OK, Annie. He’s with Sarah.”

Argh. Stop saying my name. Also, never stop saying my name.

“It was an accident?” she asked, determined to keep this goddamn conversation on track, come hell or high water. “The bus hit something, the nurse said?”

“A car ran a red light in the fog, and hit the bus that Noah was on. A bad gash on his head that I stitched up, and a cut on his face that didn’t need any stitches. No internal damage at all. He’s going to be sore for a few days, but I’ll prescribe a painkiller and mild sedative, if you all decide that’s what’s best.”

“What does Noah want?” Jax asked, and Sam and Annie both jumped a bit, remembering that someone else was, actually, there. “Did he say?”

“He says that he doesn’t want any drugs,” Sam said. “But Sarah convinced him to at least let her fill the prescriptions, just in case he needs them. She said that it’s better to have them and not use them, than need them and not have them on hand. He agreed, so they’ll go fill the prescription on their way back here.”

“Shit,” Jax said. “That’s going to be expensive. I don’t want Sarah paying for that… where’s the drug store? I’ll go there now, and hopefully catch them before Sarah coughs up all that cash out of her savings account.”

“Next building over,” Sam said. “Just past the cafeteria.”

Jax nodded, gave Annie a reassuring little squeeze on her arm, then took off. Nurses gazed at his broad back with longing as he passed them by, but Jax didn’t even glance at them. He had Sarah in his life, in his bed, in his heart, and that all meant that the ex-manwhore was in retirement, and with an unequivocal vengeance.

“Uh, so…” Sam said. “So…”

“So,” Annie repeated, suddenly feeling very alone with him, despite the bustling room around them. “So… how have you been?”

“Oh, good. You know.” Sam removed his glasses and cleaned them, thereby giving Annie a blissfully unimpeded view of those chocolate-brown eyes. “Busy.”

“Sure, I imagine so. Saving lives.”

“Mostly, yes. Thank goodness.” Sam put his glasses back on, going from gorgeous to brainy-gorgeous in a heartbeat. “And you?”

“I’m still at the diner,” Annie said, as always feeling stupid and uneducated next to this man. “Still just a waitress.”

“So bringing people food.”

She shrugged. “Yeah. Nothing glamorous or exciting.”

“Well, people do have to eat, right?” he teased her. “They’d die without food, so really, you’re keeping them alive and saving lives yourself.”

She rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. Sure, doc. What we do is the exact same thing. I see that now. Serving bad coffee is part of the circle of life.”

“Speaking of bad coffee…” Sam began, then faltered a bit, just froze up with sudden nerves. He wasn’t much of a player – his hours didn’t really leave much time for dating, after all – and it had been a long, long time since he’d asked a woman out. But he was damned if he was going to let Annie get away a second time… not without a fight. So he sucked it up, and forced the words out. “Speaking of bad coffee, could I buy you one?”

She stared at him, those beautiful blue eyes – the same eyes that stared at him from out of Noah and Sarah’s faces – even more astonishing in their honest bewilderment.

“Uh,” she said. “Coffee?”

“Bad coffee,” Sam corrected her cheerfully. “The stuff hasn’t improved since the last one I got you three years ago… but maybe the company can make up for that a bit?”

“The company being – you?”

“Yep.” He was feeling less-than-assured now, but he ploughed on. “The company being me.”

“Oh.” She stared at him some more, now fumbling nervously with her purse. He recognized it as the same one that she’d been carrying that first night that he’d met her, a cheap plastic thing with ripped edges and the gold paint scraped off the clasp, and he wondered if she owned another one. “Um, well… alright.”

“Alright?” he echoed, fighting down the urge to dance around the packed E.R. “Bad coffee on me, then?”

“OK.” She smiled at him now, and Sam damn near reeled backwards. There was that smile, at long last, the one that he’d wanted directed at him for years now… and somehow, the fact that he’d had to wait for it this long just made it all the sweeter now that he’d received it. “Sounds good. I mean, how can a girl turn down bad coffee? Seriously.”

“Right?” Sam agreed. “I figured that was the clincher.”

“Sure was,” Annie said, totally ignoring his incredible chest, warm eyes, amazing smile, broad shoulders and stupendous butt. “It’s all about the coffee.”