Dead on Arrival (15 page)

Life never ceased to amaze me. My mother used to tell me things that I never believed unless I saw them for myself. “Doubting Thomas” she and my sister used to call me after the apostle who didn't believe Jesus had been crucified and risen from the dead.

Well no one could have prepared me for this.

ER Dano's house.

Yeah,
house
. First of all I was expecting an apartment, or condo at the very most. But, nope. He lived in, and owned I'd learned, an old Victorian house on the west side of Hope Valley in one of the finer, older neighborhoods.

Bachelor, grumpy at times, grouchy at others, burned out bachelor pad it was not.

When I followed him up the pink flower bordered walkway, I couldn't even speak. Without a green thumb on either hand, I knew nothing about flowers other than that they were pink and pretty, and Dano must either live with someone or had hired someone to landscape. Yet what would make him do that?

Then he bent to pick a brown leaf off one of the plants, and I mumbled, “He planted them.”

“I planted them. Don't sound so shocked. Did all the landscaping myself. Good therapy to empty my bucket of ambulance runs when I needed to forget,” he said and opened the large, dark-paneled, wood front door with a leaded and frosted glass window in the center.

“Oh,” was all I could manage until I stepped inside and added, “Oh, my.” Oh again.

Dano appeared to ignore me as he pointed out, “Here's the living room, the John's in there, and you can stay upstairs in the room to the left of the railing. When you try to wake me, don't get close.”

I wanted to ask why, but knew he must have been a deep sleeper and would probably clock me because I startled him.

Dano walked into the kitchen, which had copper pots hanging from the ceiling, large tomato plants growing in pots by the bay windows, and old large plank hardwood floors. At a white enamel sink, he took a glass from a cabinet, filled it, and drank it down in one swallow.

“This place is neat,” I said, sitting down at the white wooden kitchen table. There were even crocheted doilies on the table as placemats.

“My grandmother made those,” was all he said when he noticed me noticing them.

“Ah. That's nice. Look, Dano, I'm here to help you. Let me get you whatever you want while you sit and take it easy. I don't want your head to start hurting.”

He looked at me.

Gulp.

Damn. The guy had a way of looking that I
felt
. Actually felt.

“Already hurts like hell. I'd go to bed now, but then I'd be up all night long…thinking.”

There was pain in his voice, and I knew ER Dano had really been in the job far too long. It'd taken a toll on him and grabbed his life without releasing. I could sense that he didn't like to go to sleep—obviously since job demon dreams awaited him.

So I sat there staring at him in the little Victorian kitchen, which looked more like a librarian lived here than a macho paramedic, and thought,
what the hell am I going to do?
when the urge to kiss him shocked the hell out of me!

After I'd fought the urge to kiss Dano, I made some excuse about seeing the rest of the house. At least it was an interesting place, and he bought my reasoning for taking the un-guided tour. Naturally Dano had not volunteered to show me around but had merely shrugged and sat himself at the kitchen table to read the daily newspaper.

Since he hadn't seemed to mind, I walked through the dining room, which had old mahogany furniture, chairs with needlepoint mauve roses, lacy curtains that looked genuine, antiques, and in the corner was an old China tea set on a lacy-covered pedestal table.

I had to shake my head. There was an air of antiquity to the house, yet it was freshly kept up and not musty as one might expect. He had to have inherited this place. For the life of me, I couldn't imagine Dano decorating in this taste. Then again, he lived here without changing anything. Hm.

ER Dano was one hell of a dichotomy.

In the living room, I sat on the rose-colored Victorian couch. It wasn't the most comfortable thing; as a matter of fact, it made me think of how prim and proper ladies must have been in the Victorian era. They had to be to sit so straight like this! White porcelain vases holding silken floral arrangementssat on the sideboards. Wait a minute. I got up and walked to them and ran a finger along the petals, which came off in my hands.

Real flowers.

Real flowers? Dano had real flowers in his house? Man. This was almost creepy. I turned to see him standing in the doorway. Whoops.

“Hey,” I mumbled.

He nodded. “I'm beat. Going up to bed. Remember: not too close when you annoy the hell out of me.”

I smiled. “Um, Dan. These flowers are beautiful. Did you arrange them?” Now if there was one thing I just knew ER Dano would not want to talk about, it would be flowers.

But he looked at them and said, “My therapist had me take a freaking course in floral arrangements.”

I laughed. “Yeah, right. Really. Did you do them?”

He walked over to them and poignantly took a brown petal from a rose much like he'd done outside. “My old lady had a greenhouse. She taught my sister, and I used to watch as a kid. And the therapist part is true.” He turned and looked past me as if his mom and maybe his sister were in the doorway. “Helps. They help.” With that he walked out of the room and up the staircase.

I stood there and thought,
I'll bet it does
. Anything to take his mind off the daily tragedies of life that ER and the crew of TLC faced.

My eyelids flutter. The annoying buzzing tickled my ears, and I opened one eye to look at the digital clock on the bedside table. Midnight. Geez. I thought it was time to get up for work. I turned over and shut my eyes—then realized this wasn't my bed.

I bolted upright when I looked to see the old Victorian room where I'd been sleeping. Oh right. D-day. Time to take my life into my hands and check on Dano. I'd peeked in on him just before I'd gone to sleep myself, but he'd been awake and growled the date and time as I'd said goodnight.

As I stepped out of bed and slipped on my shoes, I had to smile. I'm sure he was fine since his attitude never adjusted one second.

When I padded down the short hallway, I noticed light coming from under his door. Hm. Maybe Dano couldn't sleep and was up reading. I slowly eased the door open despite the squeaking sound the old thing made.

Dano was fast asleep. The Tiffany lamp on his bedside table was still lit. Oh well. Guess he dozed off and forgot to shut it off. I only hoped he hadn't gotten too tired because of the head injury. Purposely I walked to the edge of the bed, reminding myself of my nursing days. It almost felt as if I were making my rounds on the unit where I used to work.

“Ah. No. No!” Dano mumbled.

“Are you—” I started to say until I realized he was sound asleep.

Dano talked in his sleep. But the thing was, he sounded disturbed by something. Suddenly he lashed out an arm as if jabbing a left.

I stepped back. Geez! He could have knocked me out with that one. When I leaned near, I remembered what he'd said about not getting close. Dano must have known that he was a restless sleeper. A very restless sleeper.

He tossed and turned, still mumbling, so I got as close as I could, thinking I could move back fast if need be, and said, “Dano. Dan, it's Pauline.”

Suddenly I stepped back as Dano sat upright.

“Dan?” I asked.

But he merely looked my way in a glassy stare. Not a word, and he was out of bed and walking toward the door. Dressed in black boxers and no t-shirt, Dano looked hunky, but when I realized he was sleepwalking, I had other things on my mind other than how hot he looked.

What should I do?

My sister Mary had a child who walked in his sleep, and the doctor had told her never to try and wake him. Dano was out the door already! So I hurried to follow him but found him standing in the hallway, rubbing his head as if in pain.

“No. No. I should have. I should have given the epi. She died because of…” His eyes locked on me. He paused, blinked. “What the hell?”

Dano had woken himself up with some nightmare that sounded like an ambulance run gone badly. It wasn't any that I'd been on with him as I didn't remember a patient needing epinephrine. No. Dano must have relived a case from the past.

Standing there, looking at this hunk of a guy appearing so confused and upset, I had to wonder how long it had taken for him to burn out from such a stressful job.

Soon enough to commit fraud for money?

Dano walked toward me. “I'm fine,” he growled and headed into his room.

When I went to the doorway, he was already under the sheets with eyes shut. “Good,” I said.

“Thursday. It's freaking Thursday, Nightingale. Go to sleep.”

I nodded even though he wasn't looking and mumbled, “Technically it's already Friday.”

“Semantics,” he said, and I knew his head was fine.

But what demons did ER Dano face on a nightly basis?

I tossed and turned in the bed with the too-soft mattress, knowing that I couldn't fall into a deep sleep, or I might not get up to check on Dano. Then again, I also knew he might show up at my doorway in his sleepwalking state.

That one kept me awake the longest.

But I reminded myself that I worked tomorrow, or later today, and had to get some rest or wouldn't be in any shape to assess or treat patients. With my luck, I'd get a helicopter run.

“Aye!”

I flew up to the sound of shouting coming from ER Dano's room. Damn! Thank goodness I'd had the common sense to wear real clothes and not pajamas. I jumped out of bed and ran down the hallway.

He wasn't up but flailed back and forth in the bed, arms swinging as if in a fight, and pillows flying.

“Oomph!” One hit me in the stomach, and if it were heavier, it would have knocked me over. As it was, it knocked the wind out of me. The damn feather pillow weighed more than Spanky!

Dano continued on until I could no longer stand watching. I cautiously stepped forward, remembering how the patient had hit him today. If I got knocked out, I'd be no good to Dano. “Hey. Dan. I'm here. It's all right. You're dreaming,” I said in the softest, yet clearest, voice I could manage. Enough to wake him up, yet quiet enough not to startle him no matter what the doc had told Mary.

I knew I had to rescue ER Dano from his dreams, his nightmares…himself.

I got close enough to touch his arm and grab it until he quieted down and stopped fighting me, all the while using soft words to calm him down.

As if a switch turned him off, he stopped immediately, looked me in the eyes, and shut his.

He was awake.

I sat on the edge of the bed and said, “You're all right now. It was only a dream.”

His eyes opened. “A dream? It was a freaking nightmare, Nightingale. A nightmare. A nightmare that comes each time I go to sleep.”

Not being able to help myself, I sat on the edge of the bed, wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and hugged him to my chest.

Dano apparently was fine as far as the head injury was concerned, but his mental health status was in question as long as he worked his job, tried to save lives, and sometimes lost them.

He moved closer to me, his head pressed against my chest, and my arms around him tightened. It seemed like hours that we laid there with me trying to comfort him, yet knowing that I couldn't do anything to release the demons from his memory.

I brushed his hair back behind his ears, and he looked up at me. Not sure exactly what happened next, but knowing his head was fine, I gave into it when his lips touched mine.

And we kissed as if starving for one another.

“I'm all right. Just a nightly occurrence, Nightingale. I'm all right,” he repeated.

I returned his kisses and with my lips pressed against his cheek managed, “I know you are fine. I'm glad.”

With one swift motion, he'd reversed our positions, and now I was lying next to him, his arms straddling mine, and his lips covering mine—and it felt so good.

Dano slid his hand beneath my top, running his hands across my breast—and I was so glad I could never sleep with a bra on. When he touched my hardened nipples, I moaned.

He then lifted my top over my head, and the last coherent thought that I had was,
we are two adults
. Two consenting adults, sex was a natural desire, and…oh, man, did I want to consent to ER Dano.

So I did.

Since we both needed some semblance of sleep, I went back to the guest room telling myself I'd be
able
to sleep. Ha! After such a pleasurable ride, I could barely shut my eyes without reliving parts of it—no, all of it.

This was going to be a futile effort
, I told myself until I felt my eyelids close.

When I opened my eyes to the sound of the shower running, it again took several seconds to orient myself to my surroundings.

ER Dano's guest bedroom.

Yikes. Was that a fantastic dream that I'd had or the real thing? I turned over, hugged the pillow, and smiled.

Then I looked at the alarm clock and groaned. Damn. A half hour to get to work, so I jumped up and grabbed my makeup kit. I'd at least get my teeth brushed in the downstairs bathroom until he was done with the shower. Ignoring that I could join him…but knowing there wasn't time, I hurried out—and told myself to stop those kinds of thoughts.

Thank goodness the stairs were carpeted because I'd forgotten to shove on my clogs and hated walking barefoot. At the bottom of the stairs, I stopped at the end table and noticed myself in the mirror.

Raccoon eyes. Smudged mascara. Great. Did I look like this last night when? Naw. Besides, it was dark. Still, I couldn't go to work like this so I reached into my bag for a tissue. Stella Sokol would be shaking her head right now. No tissue. Here I'd broken one of her golden bring a tissue, go to the bathroom, and make sure we had on clean underwear rules.