Stolen Kiss with the Single Mom

by Deanne Anders

  “Sure. I’ll be right back with you,” Scott told the elderly patient before he left the room with her.

  “The man’s almost one hundred years old, but his mind is sharp. The things he saw were amazing,” Scott said.

  “What’s he here for?” she asked as they moved away from the door.

  “Blood sugar was reported low at his assisted living home. It’s coming up, but his electrolytes are off so I’m going to admit him and get those corrected. He lost his wife over ten years ago, and they never had any children, so he’s alone except for a niece who lives in California,” Scott said.

  He couldn’t have been in the room more than fifteen minutes, but he already knew the man’s life history. It never failed to amaze her how he could get people to talk to him. When depression had all but consumed her after Ben’s death, and she’d been at her lowest, not only had Scott gotten her to a counselor, he’d sat beside her for hours and just let her talk. It was a gift that made him not only a good doctor, but also a great friend.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I’ve got a patient who just rolled in and I’m thinking he possibly should have been trauma-alerted. I’m putting in orders for the usual labs, but he’s got a laceration on his forehead that’s going to need some stitches and I’ve ordered a scan of his head. Can you take a look at him for me?” she asked.

  “Why do you think he should have been trauma-alerted? His head injury?” he asked.

  “Maybe. He’s requiring more oxygen than he needed when the EMTs arrived,” she said. “He’s heavily intoxicated, but there’s something else going on too.”

  “Order a portable X-ray for me. I’ll be finished here in just a minute and then I’ll head straight there.”

  She watched as he returned to the elderly man’s room. She noticed that his limp was more pronounced than it normally was, but she wasn’t surprised as this was the last of seven straight days on duty. The injury to his leg that he’d received in Afghanistan hadn’t slowed him down a bit, and he had never let it stop him, but sometimes she wished he would. She’d have a lot fewer gray hairs if he’d slow down and quit running around the world chasing the next thrill.

  She turned back toward her patient’s room as she called on her radio to have the X-ray tech come down.

  * * *

  Scott reviewed the vital signs on the monitor, then walked over to the man lying on the stretcher as Lacey laid out the chest tube kit. While the CT scans had ruled out any brain injury, they had shown a significant pneumothorax, proving Lacey had been right to be concerned about the patient’s vital signs changes and his decreased breath sounds.

  Not that it surprised him. He’d been working with her long enough now to know he could trust her instincts.

  “Mr. Lyons, I’m Dr. Boudreaux. You have several rib fractures from the accident and one of them has punctured your left lung, which is affecting your breathing. I’m going to need to insert a chest tube.”

  The man didn’t seem to be paying much attention to what he was saying. Instead he seemed to be more interested in Lacey and the tray of instruments that she was setting up.

  “Don’t let those instruments scare you. I’m going to inject some lidocaine to numb the site on your chest where I’ll insert the tube. You shouldn’t feel anything,” he said, and he turned toward the sink in the room and began to wash his hands.

  Something crashed behind him and he turned back, expecting to see that Lacey had bumped into the stand that held the instruments. Instead he saw the patient he’d just been explaining the procedure to standing beside the bed, holding Lacey against him. The glint of steel caught his eye and he realized that the man had a scalpel in his hand.

  As if he had just stepped through a time warp, he was suddenly thrown back into the war zone of Afghanistan, standing in the quickly thrown-up field hospital...

  * * *

  There was chaos everywhere he looked as nurses and doctors worked on the wounded who had just arrived. He looked up and saw Ben standing in front of him. Another man held a knife to his throat while he shouted to them in a language Scott didn’t understand.

  Ben told him that the man had an IED, and then he watched as suddenly Ben went down and everything exploded.

  He heard screams coming from all around him, and knew one of the screams was his own. A piece of metal had torn into his leg as he was thrown under one of the operating tables.

  Then he heard only silence, and it took a moment for him to realize that the blast of the explosion had damaged his ears.

  He crawled through the rubble, dragging his injured leg behind him as he looked for Ben. He could see the wounded as they cried out for help, but still could not hear a sound.

  He made it over to where his friend lay, pulling him into his lap and propping the two of them against the side of a turned-over table. As tears rolled down his own face he tried to wipe away the blood from his friend’s face.

  Ben turned, his eyes no longer bright with life, And Scott watched as his friend worked laboriously to speak, concentrating on the movement of his friend’s lips as he slowly formed words.

  “Lacey and Alston,” his friend said. “Take care of them for me.”

  “Always,” Scott answered before his friend’s eyes closed for the last time. “Always.”

  * * *

  The tray stand crashed to the floor and just as quickly as he’d disappeared into the nightmare that still haunted his sleep he was back, watching as the man, now totally out of control, wrecked his emergency room and threatened his best friend’s wife.

  He took a deep breath and tried to slow his speeding heart. He didn’t have time to deal with his own demons now. He had to get this situation under control before Lacey was hurt. He wouldn’t let Lacey or Ben down again.

  “Whoa, man, you don’t want to do this,” Scott said as he slowly approached the wild-eyed man.

  The man’s trembling hand tightened around the scalpel he held against Lacey’s throat.

  Scott stopped moving and held up his hands with his palms facing forward, showing the man they were empty, letting the man know he wasn’t a threat. He had to find some way to get through to this guy before he hurt her.

  He looked from the man’s hands to Lacey’s pale face. She’d gone so still he wasn’t sure she was even breathing. Her green eyes were wide with a look of fear that he was only too familiar with. He’d seen it on a countless number of injured soldiers. He’d seen it on Ben’s face just before that insurgent had detonated the bomb he’d been wearing. It killed him to see it on Lacey’s face now.

  Then her eyes caught his and her lips moved.

  Alston, she mouthed, and the word was as plain to him as if she had spoken it. Take care of Alston.

  No. He couldn’t live through this again. Nothing was going to happen to Lacey. He wouldn’t let it.

  Did she think he was just going to stand there and let this guy hurt her? Kill her? He’d lost too many people in his life already. He would not lose Lacey. There had to be a way to get this man to let her go.

  “Look, I don’t know your story,” he said to the man as he moved an inch closer, “but I do know that woman you’re holding, and I know that whatever is going on that has driven you to do something like this is not her fault.”

  Scott slowly moved closer to the man. The police officer who had been with them earlier took a step into the room from the other side, causing the man to jerk Lacey up closer to him as he tightened his hand around the scalpel at her throat. One slice to her jugular and she’d bleed out before Scott could save her.

  “Don’t come any closer. I don’t want to hurt her, but I’m not going back to jail,” the man said. “I want a car outside in fifteen minutes or...”

  Scott watched as the man struggled for breath. Was his color a bit cyanotic? If he could keep the man talking long enough he’d pass out with hypoxia. Only t
hat would still leave the sharp scalpel dangerously close to Lacey’s neck when the man went down...

  “Do you see how short of breath you are? You need to stay here in the hospital so that we can treat you.”

  “She’s a nurse.” The man gestured with the hand that held the scalpel. “She can take care of me.”

  Scott had to get through to this man now. It would help if he knew something about him, but he only remembered the basic information. He couldn’t even remember the man’s name now. All he knew was that Lacey was in danger and he was going to have to get her out of it without her being hurt.

  He watched as the man’s hand began to shake again. He had to do something—and now. He would not lose someone he cared about again.

  “Her name’s Lacey and she’s one of the best nurses I’ve ever worked with,” Scott said as he moved closer.

  He made himself look the man in the eyes, all the while thinking about the sharp scalpel lying against Lacey’s neck. His instincts told him to grab her and run, but his training told him that would put her at risk. He had to talk this man down if he was going to have any chance of keeping her safe.

  “She’s caring and professional and she treats everyone with respect, no matter what their background. But you’d already know that, wouldn’t you?” Scott said.

  The man’s eyes left his and he looked down at Lacey.

  Scott took another step—a larger one this time. “She’s also one of the best moms I’ve ever known. She does that thing where she leaves notes in her son’s lunchbox. Not mushy notes. The kid’s eight and she knows better than that. Instead she writes down corny jokes that he reads to his friends every day at lunch,” Scott said, and made a sound as close to a laugh as he could manage.

  Yep, there’s no threat here. I’m just a simple doctor having a conversation with his patient...

  The man had gone quiet now, though whether it was from listening to him or from the lack of oxygen going to his brain Scott didn’t know. But as the scalpel had moved a fraction of an inch away from Lacey’s neck he really didn’t care which.

  Scott saw the police officer behind the man moving closer. The officer had his Taser out, but he wouldn’t be able to use it until Lacey was free. They had the man boxed in now—he wouldn’t be leaving with Lacey—but they didn’t want him to realize that yet.

  “The boy lost his dad in Afghanistan, so Lacey’s the only parent he has. He’s got his momma’s red-haired temper, but he’s a good kid and he needs his mom,” Scott said, and took one more step closer to Lacey.

  She was within arm’s reach now. The officer behind the man nodded his head. It was time for this to end.

  “Like I said, I don’t know your story, but I do know that whatever or whoever you have a problem with, it’s not Lacey’s fault. Let her go and we can talk. Please,” Scott said, as he held out his hands toward the man, “just let her go.”

  “I don’t wanna hurt nobody,” the man said, his voice slurred and tears filling his eyes. “I just wanna go home.”

  The officer behind the man nodded one more time. It was now or never.

  Scott reached out his hand for Lacey’s, felt it tremble as she laid it in his, and with one motion yanked her into his arms.

  Police and Security surrounded the man as his body collapsed and convulsed from being Tasered.

  CHAPTER TWO

  LACEY CLUNG TO SCOTT. Nothing had ever felt as good as being held safe in his arms right then. She’d heard many a trauma survivor talk about having their lives flash before them, but she’d never experienced anything like that until now. With the sharp edge of the scalpel lying against her neck, fear had taken over her body, and with it had come the knowledge that she might have seen her little boy for the last time.

  The adrenaline rush she had experienced earlier was gone now and her body had started to tremble. She looked around the hallway Scott had pulled her into. Had it all been real? Her body wanted to crumple there on the floor and curl into itself, protect her from the fear that was flooding through her.

  She remembered another time when that had happened—when the chaplain from the base had told her about Ben’s death. She’d sunk to the floor that day and had never wanted to get up. She’d had to fight her way up every day after that, taking it one hour at a time, then one day, one week. At first she had failed more than she’d succeeded, but with counseling, and support from her family and friends, she’d finally gotten to where she was today.

  The possibility of becoming that broken woman again scared her more than that scalpel against her neck.

  She gave her head a hard shake and pushed away from Scott. “I need some air,” she said, then headed for the exit door.

  Outside, the sky was still dark, but from where she stood she could see the city starting to come to life. Lights began to come on all around her as the early shift workers began to prepare for the day.

  She leaned against the wall that enclosed the roof and for the first time in her life wished for a cigarette to hold in her shaking hands. The façade she had held on to until she’d been able to make her escape fell, and with it the tears she could no longer hold inside.

  Alone in the dark, she let the tears fall as she stared out into the city. She couldn’t let anyone see her like this. She had her reputation as a hard-nosed ER nurse to uphold. Laughter broke through her sobs. Some kick-ass nurse she had turned out to be.

  “Lacey?”

  She heard a voice call into the shadows where she hid. She mopped at the tears with the sleeve of her jacket, but she didn’t answer—couldn’t speak at all while she worked to hold the sobs inside her. What would Scott the mighty thrill-seeker think of her hiding in the dark, crying like some scared little rookie nurse?

  She wiped at her tears again as Scott walked into her hiding place and then pulled her into his arms. The dam broke and she let the tears and the sobs take over.

  “I was so scared,” she said, speaking between sobs against his shoulder. “If something happened to me... Alston would be all alone...”

  “It’s okay,” Scott said. “You’re okay.”

  She knew that, but still she cried.

  “I know. It’s just...” she said.

  Scott’s hand ran up and down her back, his touch soothing her. Her body began to relax, her breaths becoming less ragged and her heart-rate slowing. Scott whispered in her ear, sweet sounds that calmed her fears. She was safe here with him.

  She knew she needed to move away from him, in case someone saw them and took what was simply the act of comforting a friend as something less innocent, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t leave the warmth of his body. A body that was strong and safe...one that fit so perfectly with hers. A hard body that was starting to send all kinds of tingles through hers.

  Wait. Something was wrong. This was Scott. Her friend. Her late husband’s best friend. There could be no tingles between the two of them.

  Lacey started to push away, but Scott only pulled her closer. One of his hands cupped her face, turning it up toward him, his green-gray eyes captured hers filled with desperation.

  “I would never let anything happen to you, Lacey,” he promised as he looked down at her.

  She knew he was going to kiss her a second before he lowered his head. She could have turned her face, could have pushed away from him, but his eyes—so earnest—seemed to hold her in place until his lips were on hers and then it was too late. There was no fighting the warm touch of his lips as they met hers.

  She had felt so cold and alone before Scott had found her. Now the heat from his body drove the cold away and his arms around her reminded her that she was no longer alone. Her mouth opened and his tongue swept in, scattering all reason from her mind as desire crowded out the fear that had held her prisoner earlier.

  In the back of her mind an alarm warned her. But of what she could no longer remember.
Right now there was just her and this blessed kiss, which reminded her that she was alive and safe as long as she remained in the strong arms that held her.

  * * *

  She tasted of sunshine and hope and everything that he had been afraid of losing as he’d watched her stand there so still with that scalpel held against her throat. If that man had hurt her...if he had lost her...there would have been no hope left in his life.

  He poured everything he had into the kiss, trying to reassure himself that she was real, that she was alive and safe. Her body relaxed into his, melting into him, and then he felt himself harden against her and realized he had taken things a little too far. What had started out as a need to confirm that Lacey was alive and safe had turned into a desire that he had never let himself acknowledge before.

  He felt her stiffen against him and knew she had felt the change too. He eased out of the kiss, withdrawing slowly until there was a small sliver of space between them.

  She blinked up at him with eyes that went from startled to horrified in a second then stared at him as if she had never seen him before.

  But then she had never seen this side of him, had she? Even though the two of them were close, they’d always been careful to keep their relationship free of anything that could be interpreted as something other than friendship.

  “This never happened,” Lacey whispered, then backed away from him.

  “Wait,” he said as she continued to put space between the two of them. “We need to talk.”

  “No, I have to go. I’ve got patients. I need to call the lab.”

  He started toward her as she stumbled, but she held her hands up to stop him.

  “Don’t. I just need to go,” she said, and she turned away from him and hurried toward the stairs.

  He watched as she all but ran from him. What had he been thinking? He’d crossed that invisible line that lay between friends and lovers—a line that no one ever crossed without there being consequences to their relationship. A line he had never dreamed he would cross.