2. Prescription For Love

Flann considered her answer. Carrie was smart enough to be running the hospital on her own, and she was a staunch Presley supporter, not that that bothered Flann in the least. She liked Presley—as much as she liked any administrator, on a professional level. Personally, she liked her a whole lot more. Presley was a good match for her sister, and she was happy that Harper was happy, even if she wasn’t exactly certain how she felt about having her almost-twin suddenly part of a couple. That hadn’t ever really happened for them before. They’d both had girlfriends over the years, but neither of them had ever really gotten serious. They were so close in age they’d ended up in the same class in high school and med school, so everything they’d experienced, they’d done as a team. That stopped at the bedroom door, but short of that, they were each other’s best friend and about as tight as two people could be. Now the person she trusted most in the world was about to have someone else to share her life with.

Presley and Carrie were a team too, inside and outside the hospital. Flann couldn’t blame Carrie for fishing for a little insider information about how things had gone with her and Abby Remy. Carrie’d hear soon enough, but not from her. “We bumped into each other just before the code. I already knew her r?sum?, and she proved she’s got the creds in the ER this morning. Presley made a good call recruiting her.”

“So you’re okay about handing off control of the ER to her?”

Flann laughed. “You think I’m okay about handing off control to anybody over anything?”

Carrie colored. “I wouldn’t have said so, no.”

“Bingo.” Flann tossed her coffee cup into the trash. “Let’s just say the two of us have agreed to coexist. Give us a little time to work out the ground rules.”

“That sounds fair.” Carrie smiled again, revealing a tiny gap between her front teeth.

Flann noticed, not for the first time, she was beyond cute—she was also smart and sexy and a great softball pitcher. She could give as good as she got with verbal jibes on the field, feisty and flirty in a non-gamey way. Flann had a feeling she’d be feisty and fun in bed too. She’d been thinking about asking her out since the first time she’d seen her, but she usually tried to stay clear of entanglements at the hospital, mostly because the place was a gossip mill and anything anybody did was fair game for lunchtime conversation, especially if it involved one of the doctors. Plus there was the added complication of Presley about to be her sister-in-law. If things got messy—not that she’d let things go that far—she didn’t want her family involved.

For some reason she couldn’t quite decipher, those reasons didn’t seem particularly important just now. Since news of the hospital changing ownership, Presley arriving, Harper falling head-overheels, and now Abby Remy moving in on the ER, her world was just slightly off-kilter. Since she couldn’t do a damn thing to change any of it, she needed a diversion, and some downtime with a cute, sexy, smart woman was just what the doctor ordered. Thinking about a night with Carrie would definitely take her mind off the morning’s meeting with Abby.

Abigail Remy unsettled her, something that rarely ever happened. Every time she replayed their first encounter, which she’d been doing pretty much constantly except for the ninety minutes she’d been scrubbed in the OR, she got sideswiped with a weird mix of irritation and intrigue. She didn’t usually obsess over a woman, and this one was completely not her type—too serious, too controlling, and not in the least susceptible to being charmed. Abby’s immunity to being charmed wouldn’t have been annoying at all if Flann hadn’t had the persistent, irrational, inexplicable urge to do just that. And there she was, getting sidetracked by images of Abby’s cool, composed, admittedly beautiful face again. Flann pushed the image aside and leaned a hip on Carrie’s desk. She turned the paper plate with her index finger, spinning the bagel with it. “What do you say we go out after a game some night.”

“We always go out after the games,” Carrie said. “Beer and pizza. It’s tradition.”

Flann shook her head. “I don’t mean with the rest of the team. I mean you and me. We can grab a quick shower at my place and drive down to the city. Have a late dinner in a real restaurant. You know, the kind where they use cloth napkins and serve the food on dishes instead of paper plates.”

Carrie stilled. “You mean, like a date.”

“That would be the general definition, yes.” Flann stopped the spinning plate and moved her hand a few inches until it touched Carrie’s.

“I need to think about it.” Carrie slowly moved her hand away.

Flann straightened. “Is your schedule full all summer?”

“Not quite yet,” Carrie said slowly. “I’m just not sure it would be a good idea.”