The Surgeon's Favorite Nurse (8 page)

Oddly enough, watching Jake make this little girl laugh coaxed a smile out of Hope, too. And the warmth of it seeped through her, making the dark places in her soul a little smaller, a little brighter.

“You should have promised Taylor that you’d let
me
sock you if the stitches hurt.”

Jake chewed the last bite of his burrito as he studied Hope. They were in a booth at a Mexican restaurant around the corner from the clinic. It still wasn’t clear to him how he’d talked her into dinner. Maybe she was just hungry.

He watched her lick a piece of rice off her bottom lip and knew tacos and refried beans wouldn’t fill him up in the places he was empty. He was hungry, but not for food and she’d made it clear a friendly dinner was all she could give.

“You think you could hurt me?” he asked, studying her slender shoulders. “I outweigh you by at least eighty or ninety pounds.”

“It’s not what you’ve got, but how you use it.” When the double meaning sank in, she went still.

And just like that the wanting he usually managed to
control went nuts. If there was a way to go back, to a time before he’d made love to her, he would give anything to find it.

She ate the last of her taquitos and managed to meet his gaze. “I know some self-defense moves.”

“Did your husband teach you?” he asked, then wanted to kick himself when the light in her eyes dimmed.

“Yes. He worked for the Department of Children and Families in Texas. That put him in domestic situations that always had the potential to be volatile. He learned how to handle himself and taught me.” For a moment she looked as if she was remembering something painful, then the shadows disappeared. “So tell me how you got involved in the clinic.”

Way to turn the conversation away from yourself, he thought. Although he wanted to press her for answers, there was a part of him that didn’t want to know. More revelations meant more bonding and he’d done that too fast as it was. Just then, the waiter stopped by their table to remove their dinner plates.

When they were alone again, Jake said, “It’s been almost a year since one of the nuns at Mercy Medical approached me about volunteering at the clinic. The need really escalated when the economy soured and so many people lost their medical insurance along with their jobs. They couldn’t afford treatment.”

“Who funds the project?” Hope ran her index finger up and down the condensation on the outside of her glass.

“It’s community outreach through Mercy Medical Center. To maintain their tax-exempt status, they can’t show a profit on paper. To do that they channel money into projects like the free clinic.”

“And now you see patients there on a regular basis.”

“Originally I was asked to gather medical supplies and assemble volunteers.”

“As Liz said—” Hope’s full lips curved upward as she smiled. “You have a way of inspiring people to volunteer.”

He shrugged. “It’s a gift.”

Her amusement vanished as quickly as it appeared. “Who’s responsible for the building expenses?”

“The hospital. They pay rent and utilities. As word of mouth spreads, docs have been sending over patients and we treat them at no charge.”

“Like Taylor,” she pointed out. “Her mom said a neighbor told her about the clinic. But what if a patient needs a prescription? Or labs?”

“I’m glad you asked.” And he was. If he talked shop, it took his mind off how much he wanted to kiss her. “I’m in the process of working out a deal with the largest diagnostics company in the valley. I think they’ll be on board for doing routine lab work at no charge. And a local pharmaceutical company partnered with the clinic from the beginning so patients could get medications at no cost.”

Hope drank the last of her soda and sighed. “I’m so full. How is that possible when I was so hungry only ten minutes ago?”

“That’s what happens when you work through lunch.” He looked at her in the dim light. He preferred the word dim to romantic, although it was that, too. “You were great today, by the way.”

Jake had goaded her into coming because she’d ticked him off, always assuming the worst about him. Technically, he wasn’t a bastard; his parents had been married when he was born. His dad left later, when they’d needed him most. But maybe there
was
more of his father in him than he wanted to acknowledge, which could explain why he
was the last bachelor standing. He never wanted to do to a woman what his father had done to his mother.

“It’s getting late,” she said. “I should go.”

He almost tried to talk her out of it. Words to that effect were on the tip of his tongue, but he bit them back. Instead he signaled their waiter for the check.

A moment later, the restaurant owner, Jose Castillo, appeared at their table. “Did you save any room for dessert, Doctor?”

When Hope groaned and shook her head, he laughed. “Not tonight. Just the check please.”

Jose shook his head. “For you, it is on the house. There is no charge. It is my way of paying it forward. In these difficult times we all do what we can to help.”

“Thanks, Jose, but I don’t mind—”

“I wouldn’t hear of it.” The dark-skinned man bowed slightly from the waist. “Come and see us again soon.”

“Two weeks,” Jake said. “That’s when I’ll be back to the clinic.”

“Thank you so much,” Hope said to their host.

“It is my pleasure. I wish you both a pleasant evening.”

Jake left a generous tip before they walked outside where the chilly January wind hit them head-on. Hope burrowed into her light sweater which wasn’t nearly enough to protect her from the cold. Jake found himself wanting to do that. He wanted to pull her against him, share body heat, but he held back. And the effort cost him.

“That was really nice of him to not charge us for dinner.”

“Yes.”

“Obviously word of your good deeds has also spread,” she said wryly.

“What can I say? They love me.”

Unlike Hope, who carefully kept him at arm’s length. After he found out she’d lost her husband, that made more sense. But her low opinion of him rankled. Pushing her into coming today was about showing her that he wasn’t the greedy, career-focused man she thought. At least not entirely. He wanted her to admit that he had some admirable qualities.

When she didn’t, he looked down. “Don’t you think it’s about time for you to concede that I’m not quite the rogue you thought?”

“No.” But the look she sent him was full of laughter. “Not after you put me on the spot in front of that little girl.”

“You mean about liking boys?” He slid his hands into his jeans pockets. “I was winging it.”

“You really rocked the wings and halo today.”

“Careful, that sounded like a compliment.”

They’d stopped beside her rental car and she was looking up at him. Staring at her mouth spiked his testosterone levels to the point of crowding out common sense and he simply couldn’t help himself. He dipped his head and claimed her lips. He braced his hands on her car, trapping her between his arms as his lower body brushed against hers. She groaned, a throaty reluctant sound that started the blood pounding in his ears.

Jake traced her lips with his tongue and she opened. He swept inside and caressed her mouth, imitating what he so badly wanted to do with her again. Their harsh breathing drowned out the wicked gusts of wind and any rational thought he might have mustered. Not a chance in hell, what with her soft body next to his.

Then he heard her moan, a hesitant, almost unwilling sound as she pressed her palms to his chest. He lifted his
mouth from hers, satisfaction swirling through him when he saw that her breathing was as ragged as his own.

“Jake—” There was regret in the single word.

“Don’t say it,” he warned.

She drew in a deep gulp of air. “One of us has to say it and apparently it’s my turn to bring the willpower.”

“Self-discipline is not all it’s cracked up to be,” he said.

“This is a bad idea. We agreed.”

“That was before. This is now,” he ground out.

“And nothing has changed. I still refuse to be the other woman.”

She turned and opened the car door, forcing him to step back. When he did, she slid inside and closed herself off before he could tell her she wasn’t the other woman. As she pulled out of the parking lot he thought it was probably for the best. Being alone wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to him.

But alone after Blair was very different from being alone after Hope. He didn’t like the feeling of cold that seeped deep inside him as he watched her taillights disappear.

J
ake hated Mondays.

As a medical student, one of the first things he’d learned was that treating the sick and injured was a twenty-four-hour-a-day, seven-days-a-week profession. But the first day of the traditional week always seemed worse.

Friday, Saturday and Sunday you expected traumas. It was the weekend. People were off and out playing, usually too hard. Stuff happened. MVA. GSW. Domestic violence. He and his partners in the trauma practice expected emergencies and were prepared for them. They moved fast, made decisions, saved lives. They worried about the rest later.

Monday was when “the rest” had to be cleaned up. Charges. Billing. Follow-up appointments.

He pulled into the parking lot just off Eastern Avenue, where he and his partners had their office not far from Mercy Medical Center. There was a small reception
area with an adjacent cubicle where the two receptionists answered the phone and handled patient charts and paperwork.

Jake walked in and down the hall, waving to Ashley Gable, his office manager. He’d hired her even though she was young and inexperienced, taken a chance when her sharp intelligence impressed him during her job interview. With her help, he’d set up the clerical part of the practice—medical records, insurance and billing. She’d been there two years and he didn’t know what he’d do without her. With luck he wouldn’t have to find out.

“Hey,” he said, passing by the doorway to her office.

“You have a visitor,” the blue-eyed redhead told him.

He slowed, then backed up and poked his head in. Ashley was sitting at her desk, looking at the computer monitor.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“The dragon lady.”

He took a wild guess. “You are aware that her name is Blair?”

Ashley shrugged. “You say potato, I say po-tah-to.”

“You don’t like her.” It wasn’t a question.

“Not much, no.”

Ashley had never pulled her punches where Blair was concerned and Jake had never called her on it. Maybe because deep down he’d known Ashley was right.

“Okay.”

“Do you need backup?” she asked. “One of those stilettos could put your eye out.”

He fought a smile. “I think I can handle her.”

“Right.” She tilted her head to the side, appraising. “I think you’d look roguish with a patch over your eye. What the well-dressed pirate would wear.”

“Have a little faith.”

“Okay. Just leave my door open so I can hear when you holler for help.”

He grinned, nodded, then backed up and continued down the hall. He passed the conference room with the big mahogany table and three high-backed leather chairs, then turned right into his office and saw Blair.

“And Monday it is,” he muttered. “Hi, Blair.”

“Hi,” she answered cheerfully.

Sitting in the leather barrel-back chair in front of his desk, her long legs were crossed. She was wearing pricey jeans tailored to showcase every curve with a crisp white blouse tucked into them. A navy pullover sweater was loosely tied at her neck and a four-inch black leather stiletto sandal dangled from her red-painted toes. Thick, layered brown hair framed her stunning face. She was walking, talking male fantasy material and all he could think was he wished Hope had been sitting there instead.

He walked around the desk and sat, then hit the power switch on his computer. “What’s up?”

“You’re going to work?” There was a hint of pout in her voice.

“Yes.” He met her gaze. “Did you want something?”

She usually did.

“I’d like you to take me to dinner.”

“Can’t.” Aside from the fact that he had a lot of work to take care of, they were no longer together. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

“I know how you hate Monday, so I’m here to take your mind off all that ‘stuff’ from the weekend.”

Good luck with that, he thought. It would take a coma to make him forget kissing Hope. The heat generated by the barest touch of their lips burned promises of professionalism right out of his mind. Then she had to go and spoil it
by bringing in willpower. Restraint was highly overrated, at least until reality had set in.

He looked at Blair and pulled his self-control together. They’d had fun, but it was over now.

Jake shook his head. “It’s not a good idea.”

“Which part?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Dinner? Or taking your mind off work?”

“Both.”

“Oh, come on, Jake. You have to eat. It will be fun,” she coaxed.

He couldn’t blame her for trying. There was a time when she’d been able to distract him for a while, but he’d never had trouble returning his focus to work. Successful careers weren’t made by losing focus. And therein was his problem. Hope constantly challenged his focus.

“I can’t,” he said.

She pressed her full lips together. “Since when?”

“Since we broke things off.”

The full-on pout puckering her mouth had lost its appeal. “I didn’t think you were really serious about ending it.”

“What part of ‘this isn’t working’ wasn’t clear?” he asked.

“You’re determined to go our separate ways?” She sat up straight, all traces of the laid-back sexy pose disappearing.

“Yes.”

“But I found the diamond ring. In your dresser.”

She’d gone through his things? “How?”

“After we had sex I was looking for a T-shirt to slip on and there it was.” When he didn’t return her smile, she looked offended. “Are you accusing me of something?”

“No.” There was no point. He didn’t care enough to go there. A fight needed heat on both sides and he simply
didn’t feel it. But honesty was something else. “I’ll admit that the idea of proposing crossed my mind.”

“Why didn’t you?”

A good question and she deserved an honest answer. “Just couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Come on, Blair.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the desk. “You know as well as I do that we’re not in love.”

“We like each other and have fun.” She tossed her hair.

“That’s not enough.”

“And love isn’t the only reason to get married,” she snapped.

“What other reason would there be?”

“I can open doors for you that you didn’t even know existed. Come on, Jake. You’re good-looking. Smart. You save lives. With that background and my contacts, you could go really far. Senator. Maybe even the White House.”

“And you could be First Lady?”

“Stranger things have happened,” she said. “Why not?”

So many speed bumps. So little time. “What if I don’t want that?”

Her eyes narrowed and anger slid into the blue depths. “One of the first things I liked about you was your ambition. It’s something we shared. What happened, Jake? Is it the woman you slept with?”

Another good question, but the answer wasn’t so straightforward. Hope had certainly challenged his principles and priorities. He liked her. And he couldn’t really say that about Blair.

“Nothing happened. The truth is that you and I had a good time while it lasted, but we’re over now.”

She stood and slid the strap of her sinfully pricey purse on her shoulder and tried to glare him into submission. “It’s not over until
I
say it is.”

It took two for an argument and he wasn’t going to play. “If you’re finished, I have work to do.”

“Are you throwing me out?”

“No. You’re welcome to stay and watch if you’d like.” He shrugged. “Makes no difference to me.”

“This isn’t the end,” she said through gritted teeth.

Then she swept out of the room.

Jake let out a long breath as he raked his fingers through his hair. Why had he never seen the witch within? Probably he just hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the darkness beneath the beautiful exterior. Blair was all fun and games until she didn’t get her way. He couldn’t believe he’d actually bought a ring and thought about asking her to marry him. That was a part of the career plan he was glad he hadn’t acted on.

And he had Hope to thank for it. Just meeting her, feeling the chemistry that fueled their mutual attraction was the whole reason he knew Blair was all wrong.

Spending time with Hope had been the highlight of his weekend. Kissing her. Holding her. Those moments were serenity in the sea of insanity that was his life. Then she’d left after saying she wouldn’t be the other woman.

He reached over and turned off the computer. It was time to tell her he’d broken things off with Blair.

Hope realized something as she walked back to her office from a meeting with the hospital comptroller. For the first time in a long time she was happy.

Her job was going well. The CFO seemed pleased with her work. Management called him David the Devil, but she didn’t see him that way. He’d been very nice and said her
department was in great shape budget-wise. Everything was falling into place for the new campus opening which was getting closer every day.

There was a spring in her step and a lightness of heart she’d been missing since… She pushed the thought away. Not going there. The feeling of peace, tranquility and balance was one she planned to hang on to.

She walked down the long hall, then turned left into her office and saw Jake. Instantly her heart dropped, her pulse pounded and her palms started to sweat. This was unexpected. She’d been so sure that playing the willpower card to protect herself from that kick-ass kiss would buy her a pass from future attention. Only part of her was doing the dance of joy that she’d been wrong.

“Greetings,” he said.

“Hi.”

He looked good. Duh. He always did. She’d seen him in jeans, scrubs, suits and nothing. The man didn’t have a bad look. Today it was gray slacks several shades darker than his eyes and a white dress shirt with sleeves rolled up to mid-forearm. No tie. Very rugged chic, with lots of masculine flair. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone and she swallowed once, remembering the touch and taste of the chest hidden below. Her slick palms started to tingle.

“How are you, Hope?”

With an effort she lifted her gaze to his face. “Good. You?”

“Never better.”

That made one of them. A minute ago she’d been happy.
Happy
. Maybe this visit was fate’s way of reminding her yet again how fragile and fleeting that feeling was.

A reminder that the nightmare could happen without warning. You kiss your husband goodbye in the morning,
tell him to have a good day and drive safe, not knowing that his commute wasn’t the thing to worry about. He calls to say he’s been asked to work late, but it’s your anniversary and he wants to get home for the big plans.

You encourage his noble streak and tell him to do his job. Kids in the middle of a domestic dispute are in danger and he needs to be there when cops remove them from the home and into children’s protective services. A matter of hours later you get another call, this one telling you that he was killed. The details are a merciful blur, but the message is carved into your heart forever.

The man you love is never coming home again.

You try not to breathe because when you do the pain is going to make you implode. But breathing is involuntary, unless a bullet to the heart says otherwise.

“Hope?” There was concern on Jake’s face. “You just went white as a sheet. Something wrong?”

“I’m fine,” she lied, waving a hand in dismissal. Then she walked behind her desk and sat in the chair. She frowned up at him. “But why are you here? Did we have a meeting I forgot about?”

“It’s about a meeting, but has nothing to do with the hospital. And, for the record, my ego will be on life support if you forgot. I’m here to talk about what happened Saturday night.”

Ah. That would be the meeting of their mouths. She definitely hadn’t forgotten, although a small case of selective amnesia would be incredibly helpful.

“I’m pretty busy, Jake—”

“You can give the chief trauma surgeon a couple of minutes.” He settled his hip on the corner of her cluttered desk and the material of his slacks pulled tight across his thigh. It was a breathtakingly masculine pose and one that showed he wasn’t leaving until he was good and ready.

“Okay.” She leaned back in her chair. “What is it you want to say?”

“I just want you to know you’re not the other woman.”

“Technically I am. You’re seeing Blair and me. She was there first, which, by definition, makes me the other woman.”

“Only if I was still going out with her.”

The implication of his words sank in and stirred up the happy factor she’d been rocking just moments ago. If she was understanding him right, he was no longer with Blair. Part of her was high-fiving that information. The other part was running for cover and having difficulty finding any. “
Are
you still going out with her?” Hope asked, well, hopefully.

“No.” His gaze locked with hers. “And I wasn’t before Saturday night. But you left before I could tell you. I broke things off with her. Twice.”

“As in two times?”

“It didn’t take the first time,” he explained. “But after our conversation a little while ago, I’m confident we’re on the same page.”

“Oh.”

Oh, crap, is what she’d meant to say. If she allowed it, a remark like that could annihilate self-control that was barely hanging on. He’d broken up with Blair Havens to keep her, Hope, from being the other woman?

If possible he stared harder which was a clue that her reaction wasn’t what he’d expected. “I wanted you to know that it’s okay to go out with me.”

Was it? Not in her frame of reference.

“Can I ask you something?” she said.

“Shoot.”

“What did you mean when you said at the clinic that you understand how they feel? What it’s like to have absolutely
nothing?” It was the first thing that popped into her mind and as good a question as any to use for a stall tactic.

He stared at her, looking more intense as the seconds ticked by. She wasn’t sure he would answer, but finally, he let out a long breath.

“When I was about thirteen, my father took off. No word, no warning. One day he was there, the next he was gone.”

“Do you know where he went?” she asked, astonished.