Free Inamorata by Kate Sweeney

whistled while she worked. To her surprise, Mick tossed the blanket over the extended rope.
    “ Viola ! Instant privacy,” Mick exclaimed proudly.
    Isabella clapped softly and Mick took the obligatory bow.
    “You are a good architect. However, I would feel better if you let me sleep on the floor,” she said sincerely.
    Mick grinned. “No,” she said and shooed her behind the blanket.
    The doctor scowled slightly. “One day you will do as I wish,” she said seriously from behind the blanket.
    Mick laughed as she struggled out of her wet clothes. She usually slept naked but that thought went right out the window. She quickly slipped into a tank top and boxers, hanging her dripping clothes over the chair.
    She actually sighed with contentment as she eased herself down and stretched out on top of the sleeping bag. It was much too hot to be under any covers tonight.
    Mick yawned then looked at the blanket. Her mouth watered, and her heart raced when she saw the wet shirt tossed over the blanket, then the shorts. Her mouth went bone-dry as the bra and panties were next. Her legs instinctively clenched at the sight. Oh, God, why me? she asked.
    The innocent striptease was killing her. She saw the doctor’s long arms rise above the sagging blanket as she slipped into the T-shirt.
    Off in the distance, the thunder rumbled through the sky. “M-Might get a good thunderstorm,” Mick’s voice squeaked out.
    “I hope not. I am terrified of storms. It is silly, but I am,” Isabella said with a laugh.
    Mick heard the cot creak as the doctor got into bed. “I’m totally different. I can sleep through anything.”  Mick blew out the lantern. “Good night, Dr. Rivera,” Mick said softly into the darkness.
    “ Buenas noches , Señorita Brennan.” Came the tender reply.
    Mick stared at the ceiling, with her hands beh ind her head then chuckled openly.
    “What is funny?” Isabella asked.
    “I was just thinking of a movie. Did you ever see ‘It Happened One Night’?”
    “No. American movie?”
    “God yes, made in the ’30’s. Clark Gable…”
    “I know him,” the doctor replied. She was lying on her side looking at the blanketed wall. She smiled and held Mick’s pillow. A faint scent of soap and perhaps perfume, wafted up to her nose. She cuddled it closer for some reason.
    “… And Claudette Colbert. She was a rich socialite and he was a reporter. She ran away from the guy she was supposed to marry. Gable was gonna bring her back and get the story. They got stuck at a small motel and had to share a room. Gable was a gentleman and put up a wall like this one... Great movie,” she sighed dreamily.
    “And did he bring her back and get the story?” Isabella asked quietly, completely intrigued.
    “Nope. He fell in love and gave it all up for the girl,” Mick informed her with a yawn.
    “That is a nice story. To fall in love like that and give up everything for the one you love.”
    Mick was still staring at the ceiling. Amanda Higgins’s face flashed before her. She could have done that; should have done that. But she was too young, too immature. Now…
    “Would you do that for the one you loved, Mick?” the doctor asked quietly. She thought of earlier, how it felt to have Mick’s hands on her arms, steadying her. They felt soft and strong at the same time. She thought for sure Mick was going to kiss her. Would she want that?
    “I screwed up once. If I ever fell in love again… Yes, in a heartbeat, Dr. Rivera.”
    “ Inamorata ,” Isabella whispered.
    “Is that a medical condition?”
    “No. It is Italian. It means a woman who is loved. Like a sweetheart, or lover.”
    “Hmm,” Mick said. “Hey. I thought you were Panamanian?”
    “I am. My mother was of Italian descent. I can speak Italian as well as Spanish.”
    “I’m impressed.”
    “So you should be,” Isabella said, cuddling the pillow.
    “So, it’s like the song by Dean Martin.”
    “No. That would be sacrilegious. It is the song by