Page 3 of The Hang Up
Whoever this woman was, she must own stock in a beauty supply store.
Miriam,he reminded himself, rolling the name around in his brain like a cinnamon Life Saver on his tongue. She’d said her name was Miriam,and though she’d seemed nervous enough to offer up a fake name, he didn’t think that was the case. She looked like a Miriam, all flashing green eyes and glossy dark curls that he bet would feel exquisitely soft twisted around his fingers. She was built like a 1950s pinup girl, lush curves and full lips that practically begged to be kissed hard.
Stop thinking like that.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was one thirty already, and he’d be pushing it to make it to the hospital on time. His five-year-old nephew, Henry, had his third appointment with the new pediatric oncologist. As of last Friday, Henry was officially in partial remission, but they weren’t out of the dark yet.
Jason’s sister, Ellie, would be with him, of course. Henry was her son, after all, but Jason wanted to be there, too.Needed to be there. The whole reason he’d moved them all to the city in the first place was so Henry would have access to the best medical facilities and doctors. So Ellie or Jason could be with the boy at all times instead of trusting Henry’s well-being to babysitters and day care providers. These early stages of remission were a crucial time for the whole family, and Jason’s new job made it possible for one of them to be with Henry around the clock.
Jason finished drying himself with the green towel, then folded it neatly on the edge of the counter. Wait, no. That didn’t seem right. Maybe he should hang it up? Or hand it right to Miriam so she could put it in the laundry?
Good idea, dumbass. Hand a gorgeous stranger the towel you just used to dry your balls.
He was still contemplating the folded towel when the door burst open behind him. He spun around to see—a cat?
“Fuzzy, no! Oh my God, come back here!”
Before Jason could grab the towel or even cover his crotch with a free hand, Miriam appeared in the doorway. She looked frazzled and frantic, and he froze at the sight of her.
Miriam froze, too. Her cheeks went bright red, and as Jason watched her gaze drop lower, he remembered why he’d been reaching for the towel.
“Hi there.” He grabbed the towel off the counter. He should probably move a little faster, but the heated look in her eye as she stood there with her gaze fixed on his crotch left him in no particular hurry. He’d never been especially modest, but he’d also never been so blatantly ogled by a gorgeous woman.
“Thanks for the shower,” he said.
“Wha—” She seemed to shake herself out of some kind of trance as he spread the towel open, wrapped it around his waist, and tucked the edge in against his hip.
She licked her lips and drew her gaze from his crotch to his face. “I’m so sorry!”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “I’m not sure how to feel about a woman who stares at my junk for that long and says ‘I’m sorry.’”
Her cheeks went a shade darker, but she laughed and raked her fingers through those glossy curls. “I’m sorry for walking in on you, not for what’s behind that towel. There’s not a damn thing to be sorry for behind that towel.” She cleared her throat. “Not that I was looking. Not that I noticed whether it was really impressive or not or—” She shook her head and glanced away. “I should probably stop talking now.”
Seeing her flushed and flustered and beautiful in the doorway gave him at least a dozen ideas of things he’d like to do besides talking, but he settled for nodding as he finger- combed his wet hair. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“My cat,” she said suddenly, and her gaze scanned the bathroom. “I can’t believe he did that.”
The fluffy white feline was perched on the toilet lid, looking bored as he swiped a paw behind one ear. Miriam scrambled forward to grab him, and the warm, silky sleeve of her blouse brushed Jason’s bare arm as she moved past. He stepped aside and noticed how carefully she seemed to be keeping her eyes averted now.
Damn shame.
“Bad kitty,” she scolded as she scooped up the fluffy white ball. “Bad, bad, kitty.”
The cat looked almost smug as Miriam cradled him against her breasts, and it was the first time in Jason’s life he’d felt jealous of a cat. Miriam moved past him again, her gaze fixed on her wayward pet.
“Sorry about that.” She pivoted in the doorway to look him in the eye. “He has a bad habit of pushing doors open if they’re not latched all the way.”
“In that case, I apologize for not latching it,” he said. “My mistake.”
“Not your fault. It’s an older house, so a lot of the doors don’t close properly.” Her gaze flickered over his chest and lingered for a few seconds before returning to his face. “Good Lord, you’re in great shape.”
He laughed. “Thanks. And thank you for the change of clothes.” He nodded at the stack of blue hospital scrubs she’d handed him earlier, and Miriam looked at the pile. Some of the smolder seemed to vanish from her eyes as she stared at the heap of blue fabric for a moment.
“No problem,” she said at last, her voice softer than it had been just seconds before. “They’re my dad’s.Weremy dad’s. He’s a doctor. Was a doctor.” Miriam shook her head and adjusted her hold on the cat. “He passed away last year, but hopefully those will fit. He was about your size.”
The wistful tone in her voice made Jason want to reach for her, but he opted to reach for the scrubs instead. “I’m sorry,” he said. He couldn’t think of anything else to say, but that seemed like enough.
“Thank you.” Miriam nodded. “I’ll let you get dressed now. Shout if you need anything.”
