It Must Be Love - Jacob and Connie

Chapter Two

She pulled the cubicle curtain open with a dramatic flourish, then closed it again in the same manner.

"Mister Jones, yes?" She scanned his files, then looked to Ben - or Lofty as he was more commonly known - who was treating the patient.

"Peter was complaining of sharp abdominal pains in his lower abdomen, Mrs Beauchamp."

His files said that he had a history of gallstones, and he was treated in this hospital on two occasions, both relatively recent. Connie hated being called in to these sorts of cases, so she wanted it over with as soon as possible. Just because Zoe used to do it, she shouldn't be expected to do it too. But she knew that it was important to be on the ground floor of the hospital, as well as working upstairs in surgery.

"Tell me, Peter," Connie began, "have you had diarrhoea recently?"

"No, not that I can remember." From observation, Connie could see that the patient was a little uncomfortable under her gaze. She always seemed to have that affect on the patients, which was one reason why she preferred to work in surgery, where the patients were typically comatose. For a single passing second, she felt a twinge of longing for Jacob to be there; he always knew how to talk to the patients and make them feel more comfortable. Let's not go there, Constance, she warned herself. No, the last thing she needed was him being in a close proximity of her when she was working.

"Mrs Beauchamp?" Ben's voice brought her back to reality, away from thoughts of Jacob, and back into her work.

"Sorry, I was just," she coughed, stopping herself before she said anything else. "Mister Jones, with your history of gallstones, I'm going to assume you have acute cholecystitis, which is an inflammation of the gallbladder. We'll run some tests to be sure, but the chances are looking pretty likely. Ben, will you be okay to take it from here?"

He nodded, intimidated by her, she thought, and she disappeared out of the cubicle. She was organising the files when she collided with someone, dropping the files all over the floor, and almost tripping herself. Almost tripping.

"Oh would you watch where you're-". She stopped. She realised that whoever she had collided with had caught her, else she should certainly have fallen, and she recognised the feel of the strong hand pressing into the small of her back almost instantly. She felt the butterflies take flight in her stomach as his muscles flexed, and his other hand took her wrist to pull her up. Their feet were near enough together, and once he pulled her up, they were again merely inches from each other.

"Woah, Mrs B, I'm sensing a bit of déjà vu going on here." His eyes were sparkling with his boyish suave, and suddenly her sense of clarity vanished. She had two or three papers left in one of her hands, and round the other was Jacob's firm grasp.

"Next time, Nurse Masters, would you mind being a little more careful and considerate when walking around the corridors?" She turned 180 degrees, and bent down to pick up the rest of her files. She silently hoped that he was checking her out as she did, but soon scolded herself for even allowing herself to think that. After retrieving all her documents, she stood once more, a longer distance away from him, and brushed down her trousers.

He chuckled to himself upon replying. "Okay, Mrs B, but it was you who walked in to me." He reached forward, his large hands seeming quite incapable of the delicate touch he was about to give her, and tucked a rogue piece of hair behind her ear.

"Are you going to argue with me, Jacob?" Her voice was on the verge of cracking. The way his skin felt against hers was incredible; she could scarcely speak past the desire she had for him. He didn't move his hand from her face, like she'd expected him to, but rather moved it down to cup her cheek instead. She willed herself to do anything to fight the sensations in her body, but her head subconsciously leaned in to his touch, and her eyes drifted shut as she allowed herself a couple of moments to embrace the gesture. It occurred to her that there would be people watching somewhere, but it felt as if his hand was stuck to her - she couldn't pull herself away from him. It seemed she didn't have to, however, as a few seconds later, he dropped his hand.

"I wouldn't dream of crossing you, Mrs Beauchamp." The formality in his tone made her heart sink a little, though that was what she'd been praying for since her feelings for him first came around.

"Good." Unable to think straight, she turned on her heel, and walked off down the corridor. This time, it was his turn to stand there, before smiling to himself and going about his work.