“Well, you can’t get full-time if you start missing shifts because your car finally craps out for good, now can you?” Mare quips, and I nod.
“Touché,” I relent. I guess I could call and see about dropping it off one morning before shift? Still. That’s sleep time. “But, Mare, you know the holidays are the busiest time for me here. Everyone wants time off at Christmas,” I muse, as I try to figure out a time that might work in my head.
“Still. You need it fixed. This is the fifth time this month,” she says, walking to the elevators.
“Okay, okay. I’ll call first thing tomorrow.”
“Good. You’d better,” she calls over her shoulder, as she steps into the waiting elevator.
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave. “Tell Jesse to break a leg for me!” She gives me a thumbs up as the elevator door closes.
***
It’s just after 7:30 p.m., and I’m back in the ER after having had my break. Walking to the nurses’ station, I see Dr. Driver looking a little overwhelmed with four charts in her hand. Looking up, her eyes meet mine and she smiles. “Faith, thank goodness you’re back. I need you. I’m in sutures hell here! And I still have six patients to see. Help me, help me.” She laughs, looking down at the charts.
As a nurse, I love my job. I love working here, especially. We’re a cohesive unit, and over the years, and after working in different hospitals, Perth and Smiths is by far the best. The doctors here appreciate us. They treat us like partners. Trust us to actually help like we’re trained to. There isn’t a huge divide between species like in some hospitals I’ve worked. Some places, you’d swear nurses were simply worker ants, taking orders from the queen.
I smile back. “At your service, Karen. What do you need from me?” I ask, quickly storing my bag behind the work station.
Releasing a relieved breath, she hands me a chart. “First. Curtain Three needs at least ten stitches in his right hand. Nasty gash. See if he wants something stronger than Tylenol, too.”
“Got it,” I say.
She hands me a second chart. “Curtain Five, I think you can just glue it. Little girl, three years old. Starred in a battle of forehead vs. bed. Sadly, the corner of the bed won. Nice laceration across the forehead.”
“Poor kid,” I say, looking at the chart notes.
“Little cutie, too,” Karen smiles.
“I’ll assess and see what will work best on it. Aim for no scarring.”
“Perfect. You’re a lifesaver. I’ll catch you in a few, and update you on the rest,” she says, as she picks up another few charts and pops in behind Curtain Two.
Chapter 3
Faith
“Hi,” I say, opening the curtain, “I’m Nurse…” I stop dead in my tracks.
Um, I think Karen forgot an important detail when going over what was behind Curtain Three. Sure, she chose to mention the cutie behind Curtain Five, but nothing about what would be waiting for me behind Three?
Not a word.
Is she blind?
“I’m going to kill her,” I mutter, as I work to regain my composure.
Hello, Mr. Deathly Attractive.
“Mr. McKidd,” I say, shifting closer to where Mr. Make-Me-Lose-My-Breath sits holding his right hand in his left.
“Is that duct tape?” I ask, sounding a little breathless. Probably because this guy is so freaking pretty I can barely think. I can hear him talking, but I can’t seem to hear a thing over my own thoughts.
Am I sweating?
A deep chuckle has my gaze shifting back to his face.
His super-duper handsome face.
Dark eyes.
Strong jaw.
Stubble, which I bet feels incredible between the…never mind.
Firm-looking lips.
Nice white teeth.
All topped off with that smile. A smile that makes you smile even when you’re not feeling too smiley. The sexiest type of smile there ever was.
“Are you with me, nurse?”
“Huh?” I think I might be stroking out. When was the last time I blinked?
Oh god, I’m staring. I’m silent, staring, mute. No wonder I can’t get a full-time job.
“Do you want to sit down? Are you alright?” He laughs again, clearly amused. And that’s when I notice his smile again. It’s not only perfect, it’s devilish. Like he knows the effect he has on women.
This guy knows he’s stupid handsome.
Shit. I shake my head. The last thing I have time for is Mr. Panty-Melter invading my space, in my mind or in real life. “I am so sorry. I’m Nurse Hayes. Let’s check you out,” I say, immediately regretting it.
Smirking sexy bastard.
Chapter 4
Chance
“My apologies. I’m nurse Hayes. Let’s check you out.”
I think you already did.
I bite my tongue so I won’t say the words out loud to the gorgeous woman standing in front of me. Her lush, shoulder-length hair is coloured a pretty shade of lilac, and she has beautiful pale-blue eyes that can’t seem to stop themselves from roaming me over. Her plush lips have me curious to know exactly what they taste like.
I keep my mouth shut from saying anything that might piss off the woman who’s about to stab me repeatedly with a needle.
I clear my throat. “Thanks, made a dumbass move at work,” I share, and she smirks.
“Was that using duct tape instead of a first aid kit?” She cocks her head and a piece of hair falls over her right eye. It takes everything I have not to move it from messing up my full view of her beautiful face. Thankfully, she moves it for me.
“Funny.” I meet her gaze, and gift her a smile from my arsenal. I shrug, “Had a job to finish before I could get here. Did what I had to do.”
“Ahh, a true hero, I see,” Nurse Hayes says as she starts unpacking the tools she’ll need. She pulls up a small table and nods for me to place my arm on it. “Now, let’s get a better look here, shall we?”
If only she knew how much I was already enjoying the view.
Chapter 5
Chance
“Did you ever think we’d see the day?” I ask my pops as we look out the living room window of my family’s home in Smiths Falls watching my brother, Trevor, as he walks around to the passenger side door of his black Charger and opens it.
For a girl.
“Nope,” Pops grins, shaking his head. “Was bound to happen, though,” he adds, taking a drink from a green bottle of Moosehead.
“Whaddaya mean?” I ask, reaching for my own beer.
“Always seems to happen when you aren’t looking for it.”
“Manners?” I bark out a laugh. I’ve never seen Trevor be chivalrous, ever.
“Love, son.” Pops holds his bottle up in salute.
“No way. You think NHL’s star player is in love?”
“That Harvest does something to your brother, Chance. Not only is he in love, he’s found his other half in that girl. He just doesn’t know it yet.” He goes to take another swig.
Plucking the bottle out of my dad’s hand, I hold it up to the light and begin to analyze it, sploshing it around in circles to get a better view.