Chapter 47

"Oh I can picture that already, Katy. You’re hella sexy in those green scrubs."

She glanced down at her scrubs and lab coat. "Blue actually," she said with a shake of her head. They so weren’t sexy.

He groaned, remembering her walking away from him, the stiff shapeless material rising over the sweet curve of her hips as she headed to the bathroom. He cleared his throat. "But no, wanted to ask you what some of your favorite things were."

"My favorite things? Why?"

He nearly sighed, but bit it back. She was always so suspicious. "How am I supposed to get to know you, if I don’t know your likes and dislikes? Like, what do you miss most about home? What’s your favorite thing about Georgia?"

"Oh," she didn't know quite what to say. "Well, darlin' what's not to love about Hotlanta?” A punch of homesickness hit her low. “Most nights I'd be outside on my momma's back porch with sweet tea…and I mean real sweet tea. The stuff that only comes out of the south, you know?” She swayed again in her seat. “Some smooth jazz on her old turntable. My momma loved Jazz. I think I started playing the sax just because of those old records.”

He filed that away. His Katy played an instrument? How the hell did that get by him? "Being from the south, I bet your mom is a great cook." He leaned back on the headboard, relaxing as her voice went thick like honey as she warmed up to the topic.

"Oh yeah, women in the south had to cook just to get out of grade school I think.” She laughed. “But my Momma…” She sighed. “She made the best sweet tea on the street. All my friends would congregate at her house. You know the term, Kool-Aid mom?"

"Don't think I know that one." He closed his eyes and let her soothe away the stresses of the last week. "What’s that?"

"It’s the house that all the kids go to where the mom welcomes everyone into the house. Usually feeds them too. She’d say, 'God created sugar for tea, KittyKat not for blue water.'” She let her Georgia go even thicker with her Momma’s deeper voice. “Gosh, she was a trip. I miss her like crazy," she said on a half-whisper, surprised at the tears that pricked her eyes.

"I’d be glad to send her a ticket to fly up and see you Katy." He heard the sadness, wanting to take it away. She had so much to deal with at her job, the least he could do was bring her family up to see her.

Her heart gave a quick bump as she flicked away a tear. "Sugar, if you could do that I'd give you just about anything you ever wanted. She died a week before I graduated high school," she said quietly.

Jon winced, knowing he'd stepped into one of Richie’s frequent cow pies. It explained a lot about her though. "Oh hell baby, I'm so sorry."

"S'okay, you didn't know. She died on the way to one of my various senior functions. It was one of those useless, stupid things that should never have happened. If the doctor had been better trained, if the ER had been better staffed, if..if...if.” She sighed. It still grated, even all these years later. “A simple fender bender was all it started out to be, twelve hours later they figured out her spleen ruptured and she literally bled to death inside of her own body. But because the doctor didn't ask the right questions, they didn't catch it. Momma just thought they were bruised ribs."

He sat up, hooking his elbow over his bent knee. Just the thought of his family not in his life hit him hard. "I can't even imagine it. I don’t know what I’d do without my family.” He winced at his own words. Way to go, dickhead. “It’s why you became a doctor though, isn't it?"

Inwardly she cursed herself. What the hell was it about him that made her pour her heart out? And the fact that he was so eerily perceptive left her pushing at her breastbone with the heel of her hand. "It certainly was a factor," she murmured. "Boy way to be a downer huh?" she laughed, humor completely missing in her tone.

"The only downer is you saying it’s a downer. I’m glad you told me.” He changed the topic quickly to give her a chance to gather herself. "So what’s your favorite foods?"

Grateful that he changed the subject she tapped her pen on her chart. "I should be asking you these questions, I could sell the answers to Teen Beat and pay off a month of school loan bills."

Jon's brow arched. "Now Katy, would you really do that?"

"Nah," she laughed. "Reporters are boring."

He snorted. "If you only knew Katy how true that statement is."

She wound the cord around her finger again, sticking her tongue out at Patty as she walked by with her face pressed against the glass, faux kissing. Tripping over a laugh, she waved her away. "Well, I guess I should drag you to the OHH before you die. You Yankees just don't know good southern cooking." She blew raspberries. "Kentucky Fried Chicken my big white butt."

"You want to drag me to Ohio?" What did Ohio have to do with southern cooking? This woman’s mind was a true puzzle to him.

She gave a startled laugh. "No, the Old Hickory House in Atlanta. Ribs that would make a carnivore sit up and beg for mercy and hope even that was dripping in their tangy barbeque sauce."

"Ah, now that’s what I like to hear. A meat and potatoes woman."

"Sugar, where on earth do you think I got all these curves? I have to beat off the chubs because of my love for all things fried and covered in gravy or barbecue sauce." Her hand settled over her empty belly. "You are an evil man, making me think about Georgia cooking."

"I’m sorry," he said on a laugh. She missed home cooking and that was something he could do something about. Somehow he’d get her those ribs.

"Sure you are, Jon," she said with enough sarcasm to hear him laugh in response. "So what are YOU wearing?" she teased.

Jon snorted. "What do I usually wear?" His eyes closed as he pressed the phone closer to his ear. "Now you sound like a reporter.”

"Ha!” She rolled her eyes when Patty came running down the hall. “Yeah, well your version of rinse, wash and repeat seems to work for people. Gotta say, I’m partial to those faded jeans with the holes in the knees, myself."

"Mmhmm," he smiled lazily as his eyes grew heavier. She was so relaxing, which was odd considering how feisty she was, but he could just listen to her talk and never be bored.

She heard the drift in his voice. His deep rumbles were causing hunger pains…not lust. They had to be. "I think someone on London time is just about ready to find his bed.”

"No. No really, I'm wide awake here. Tell me more about that barbecue stuff."

His voice was husky with sleep for all his denial. Humoring him, she settled back to tell him a story, but by the time she'd finished talking about her brother and the rain storm. A few side notes about the soggy bag of ribs that made it all the way to their childhood doorstep before it landed on the porch, ruining dinner. When his only response was breathing, she realized she’d finally lost him. "Goodnight, Jon," she said and dropped the phone back on its cradle.

She went back to her paperwork, turning away from the door. “No, you’re not getting details.”

“Dammit, I never get to hear the good stuff,” Patty huffed.

“No good stuff here, babes. Just an overworked doctor.”

“I heard his voice, there’s gotta be good stuff.”

Kate smothered a smile, still not looking back at the nosiest nurse in the building. “Just a friend of a friend.”

“Right. I’ll get it out of you, Kate.”

This time she looked up. “Wanna bet?”

Patty frowned and gave her a pout. “I don’t take sucker bets.”

“Didn’t think so.”

“You suck.”

Kate couldn’t help herself. “Sometimes.”

Patty slapped the doorjamb.”Man, you’re no fun.”

“Gotta get back to my charts.”

Patty just huffed and returned to her station. Kate just tapped her pen on the papers and settled in for another long night