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hospital proper. She'd been here once before, when they'd thought Mortimer had OD'd, and remembered a snack bar in the lobby. A cup of coffee would hit the spot, especially after that Scotch. She wasn't used to hard liquor.

    The short middle-age man with "Ernie" embroidered into his shirt hung by the coffee kiosk at the end of the snack bar.

    "Latte?" he said as she approached.

    "Just a regular coffee, please. Black."

    She glanced around the nearly deserted lobby. By this time the day's surgeries were done, the second shift was ensconced, the doctors had left for their offices, the kitchen was readying to serve dinner, the day visitors were gone and the night visitors weren't home from work yet.

    Quiet. Like a morgue.

    She grimaced. Probably not the best analogy for a hospital.

    She paid Ernie for the coffee and pulled out her cell. She had to call Clay to make sure he'd received the message that she and Jenny needed a ride back to Mortimer's for their cars.

    And then what?

    Clay was expecting her to spend the weekend with him in Denver. She didn't see how she could do that without losing her mind. Another gun show. When
not
at the show, however...her pelvis tingled with warmth that coursed up through her abdomen and settled in her nipples. The non-show activities would almost be worth it.

    Almost.

    The sex...she'd miss the sex. They were so good in bed. But the parade of gun shows and all the machismo...she'd had her fill. She had to call a halt.

    She checked her phone's display: no bars. Then she saw the sign:
No Cell Phones!

    Did they really need that exclamation point?

    She glanced back along the lengthy hallway to the ER, then toward the lobby entrance. That looked closer. She pushed through the heavy glass doors to the outside, found a bench, and sat. She tried a sip of her coffee and winced as bitterness stabbed her tongue. Yuck. When had this been made? This morning?

    She'd have to have a word with Ernie. But right now...

    She stared at the cell display. Still no bars. But tucked in the corner of the room was a pay phone.

    So call.

    And say what? How could she tell that big cuddly guy that it wasn't working? That she needed more than the best sex she'd ever had in her life. She needed a life of the
mind
as well. He was extremely bright, but his focus was so
narrow.
Guns and action films and his job--he loved being a deputy sheriff, so much that a lot of other stuff in his life was pushed to the side.

    She knew what would happen when she told him. He'd promise to change. Spend less time at work. Take her ballroom dancing.

    At least she assumed that would happen. This was all new to her. What if he just said, "Okay. See you around."

    She almost wished he would. It would shake her to know she'd been that wrong about him, but at least she wouldn't be hurting his feelings.

    God, I'm such a coward.

    Do it, Shanna.

    She found some change in the bottom of her purse and plunked it into the payphone. Four rings and then his voicemail came on. Oh, no. She gritted her teeth and listened once again as Clint Eastwood said,
"Go ahead...make my day. BEEEEP!"

    She definitely had to break this off.

    "Clay, it's Shanna. Don't know if you got my last message but Jenny Bolton and I had to rush Mortimer to the hospital. Our cars are still at his place. Could you swing by the hospital and give us a lift back?" She bit her lip. "And Clay...about this weekend..." No. She couldn't. She owed him a face-to-face explanation. "Talk to you later."

    She hung up the receiver and thought about that. Face-to-face. How could she look into Clay's warm brown eyes and tell him it was over?

    A woman came out of the lobby and lit up a cigarette. The smoke drifted Shanna's way. She thought about asking her to move downwind but decided to move herself instead. Shanna dumped her coffee and returned to the lobby. Ernie smiled at her as she passed. She wanted to tell him to brew some fresh coffee but decided against it. She wasn't