Dr. Daddy's Virgin - A Standalone Novel (A Single Dad Romance)

by Claire Adams

  “I love you, too, Blake,” Emily said, smiling warmly up at me.

  “So, I thought it would be a good idea to have everyone we love here today,” I said, taking a deep breath.

  “Take my hand, take my whole life too. For I can’t help falling in love with you.”

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small blue box I’d been carrying for months as I dropped to one knee and said, “Emily Fowler, will you do me the great honor of agreeing to be my wife?”

  I flipped the box open to reveal a simple round diamond set in a platinum band. Emily gasped and covered her mouth with her hands as she looked at the ring and then back at me in utter shock. I plucked the ring out of the box and held it out as an offering as I waited for her reply.

  There were tears in her eyes as she nodded, and then she held out her hand so that I could put the ring on her finger. As I slid the ring on her finger, she whispered, “Oh Blake, yes. Yes, I’ll marry you!”

  The entire crowd burst into applause and cheers as I quickly hopped to my feet and wrapped my arms around her waist to pull her in for a big kiss. Emily wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me back. When she pulled back to look at me, I could see her eyes shining as she smiled up at me.

  We turned and faced the crowd of people who had gathered to celebrate our engagement, and together we raised our linked hands in a sign of victory. Nina stepped forward out of the crowd and wrapped her arms around both of us, then turned and yelled, “She said yes!”

  The music burst forth from the stereo, and the party began in earnest as everyone surged forward to congratulate us on our engagement. It was heartening to see Emily’s parents genuinely happy for us, and I hoped that in the coming months, we’d be able to build some bridges that would enable us to keep them in our lives, but if not, then I knew we’d be fine.

  “I’m proud of you, son,” my dad said, as he put an arm around me and looked over at Emily, who was now laughing with Nina and my mother as they flipped burgers on the grill together. “She’s a good woman, and she’ll be a great addition to this family.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” I said, as I smiled and accepted a beer from my brother.

  “Yeah, maybe she’ll like you enough to add another little Gaston to the mix,” Brian said, slugging my shoulder.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here,” I laughed. “We’ve got a teenager in the house now, and I’m not sure Emily is going to want to start over.”

  “Not want to start over what?” Emily asked, as she joined us and took my hand. I raised it to my lips and kissed it before I replied.

  “Start a whole new family after raising a teenager,” I said, smiling at her.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” she grinned, then leaned in and whispered, “But we’ve got plenty of time to practice.”

  “I love you, Emily,” I said, as I leaned down and kissed her.

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  BILLIONAIRE ON FIRE

  By Claire Adams

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams

  Billionaire on Fire Volume 1

  Chapter One

  Cam

  "Engine One, Truck One, Ambulance Forty-One, residential fire at Monroe and Oakley," the voice said over the loud speaker. I looked over at Danny Newsome and then ran as fast as I could to grab my gear and hop on the truck.

  "C'mon, Connor, let’s move!" Newsome yelled at me. "Let's go, let's go!"

  I shot Danny a grateful look as he swung up into the seat next to me just before the engine pulled out of the station. Driver Mike Kelly turned on the siren as he drove like a bat out of hell down Van Buren toward the fire. I gritted my teeth and looked out the window. Cars pulled to the side as the siren screamed its warning and the city blocks rushed by. The houses along the way became a blur as Kelly pressed harder on the gas pedal and flew toward the fire.

  Danny and I were ready to jump out before the engine came to a full stop. We grabbed the huge hoses and hauled them to the hydrants while the rest of the squad began pulling out the tools we'd need once we got inside. I unscrewed the cover on the hydrant and twisted the metal end of the hose onto the threads before tightening it. Danny grabbed the metal bar we used and cranked the lever that opened the water flow.

  "Ready!" I yelled as I ran toward the house aiming the nozzle at the flames leaping out of the windows, but the more I sprayed the higher the flames leapt. I cursed under my breath as I braced myself and held the stream on one spot knowing that if I could put it out, all would not be lost. I could feel the sweat running down my body inside my jacket and felt my uniform being drenched as I held my ground.

  "Cam!" Danny called. "Cam, ease up, the guys gotta go in! Let 'em in!"

  I braced myself against the porch railing and kept aiming the water at the flames that were quickly consuming the house. Danny tried to pull me back, but I shook him off and continued my one-man attempt at putting out the fire. Danny pulled at me again, but this time I shoved him hard and moved forward with a singular goal in mind.

  "Connor!" Chief Riley shouted as I ran up the stairs and into the house spraying water into the flames. "Connor, step down!"

  "No, Chief, I won't!" I shouted back. "I'm not gonna lose it!"

  "CONNOR! That's an order not a request!" Chief yelled as he grabbed my arm and yanked me off the porch. "Get your ass off the porch and let the guys get in there and fight the damn fire!"

  "No, no, no!" I yelled as I flailed against the Chief's grip. "Let me go! Let me go!

  "QUINN!"

  Chief Riley pushed me to the ground and stood over me daring me to get up. The next thing I knew, I was rubbing my elbow and cursing as a warm wet tongue bathed my face. I shook my head and opened my eyes to find myself face to face with Tesla, my big yellow Lab. She was frantically licking my face as her tail wagged a mile a minute. Her breath was terrible, and I threw up a hand to stop the onslaught.

  "Get back, girl," I grumbled as I gently pushed her away from my face. "I don't need a bath right now."

  Tesla sat down and began softly whining and pawing at me as I leaned against the bed and held my head in my hands. I felt like crying, but like many, many times before this, the tears wouldn't come.

  I looked up at the clock and realized I had to be at the station in two hours. That would give me just enough time to take Tesla for a run, make coffee, and grab a hot shower before I had to face another day of fighting Chicago fires.

  "C'mon, girl," I said as I patted my dog on her head and smiled down at her. I was rewarded with a furious tail thumping on the floor as I said, "Let's go for a run."

  Chapter Two

  Alex

  "Miss Pierce, did you hear me?" the formidable brunette woman said as she gripped a clip board and looked over the top of her cat eye glasses. She was dressed in a stiff, navy suit under which she wore a cream colored blouse buttoned up to her neck, and on her feet were sensible pumps, the kind that looked professional but could be worn all day without pain. She was a sensible woman who didn't have time for nursing students who didn't pay attention.

  "Yes, Mrs. Rikka, I heard you," I said as I stepped forward and received my security badge and locker number. "Thank you, ma'am."

  "Miss Pierce, I'm going to recommend that while you're here at Chicago General, you pay closer attention when people speak to you," she said, narrowing her eyes. "If you are not going to listen, then there is absolutely no point in you being here. Am I understood?"

  "Yes, ma'am," I nodded as my face turned red with shame. I'd been listening until my best friend, Liz Baker, had elbowe
d me and asked if I'd brought my lunch. Now I was worried that I'd incurred the wrath of our nursing supervisor, Mrs. Fran Rikka, and that I'd pay a heavy price for it the rest of the year.

  "Old bitch," Liz muttered under her breath as she flipped her flaming red ponytail and wrinkled her nose as if she'd smelled something bad. "She doesn't need to be dressing us down on the first day."

  "Well, I wasn't listening to her," I admitted.

  "Alex, you're going to need to grow a backbone, babe," Liz said as she slipped her arm through mine and pulled me down the hall toward the cafeteria. "Otherwise they're going to eat you alive!"

  "I just think it's better to follow the rules and be polite," I said defensively. "I don't see what's wrong with that!"

  "There's nothing wrong with that," Liz replied as she looked over the lunch offerings. "It's just that you do it so often that I think you forget that sometimes it's good to raise a little hell."

  "I don't feel the need to raise hell like you do, Liz," I said, looking at her sideways. Liz had been my best friend since we were ten, when she'd waltzed into my elementary school, looked around and chosen me as her lifelong best friend. She was wild where I was calm, mouthy whereas I was polite, and rebellious whereas I was a definite rule follower. I calmed her and she, well, she got me into more trouble than I could imagine.

  "I'll take the burger, fries, and a bowl of chili...please," Liz said to the woman behind the counter then looked at me and flashed a big cheesy grin. "Happy now?"

  "Oh, Liz, you're a piece of work," I said, shaking my head. I turned to the lunch lady and said, "Salad, a bowl of chicken soup, and a wheat roll, please."

  "Gross," Liz said as she made another face. She had the most animated face I'd ever known and was always shaping and reshaping herself to fit some new idea of who she thought she should be. It was entertaining, but sometimes I worried that Liz really didn't have any idea who she was.

  "Do you think Rikka will hold today against me?" I asked once we were seated at a table near the window so Liz could watch people pass by. I loved the fact that I'd be able to observe the doctors and nurses as they worked on patients and then relaxed over lunch. I wanted to soak up as much about the hospital as I could, and the cafeteria was an excellent place to do it.

  "Seriously doubt it," she said as she crammed two catsup-covered fries into her mouth and chewed. "Hey, look at that guy. Do you think he's homeless or just a hipster whose mom didn't do his laundry this week?"

  "Liz! That's so mean!" I laughed before turning and looking at the young guy crossing the street and adding, "Definitely hipster. He's got a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. Homeless guys always use grocery sacks to carry their stuff."

  "Hmmm, yeah, you're right," Liz nodded as she watched the boy cross the street. "He's cute, then."

  "Elizabeth Marie Baker! You are incorrigible!" I laughed as I speared some lettuce and stuffed it my mouth. I chewed for a few moments then said, "I wonder who we'll be working with."

  "I hope I get the ER," Liz said with her mouth full of burger. "I want to meet a handsome doctor who will sweep me off my feet and meet me in the broom closet for a scandalous rendezvous."

  "Liz, is there ever a moment when men are not part of the equation for you?" I laughed already knowing the answer.

  "Alex, my darling, the answer to that question, as you very well know, is no." Liz grinned. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with being a red-blooded, American girl who enjoys sex, so don't judge me."

  "I wouldn't dare," I smiled before turning the conversation to a more serious matter. Sometimes Liz's reckless behavior scared me. She took chances that I knew I'd never be brave enough to take, and most of the time her gamble worked out just fine, but the few times when it hadn't, well, it had spelled disaster. I looked over at her stuffing fries in her mouth and said, "I'm just worried that I won't be able to manage all the coursework on top of working at the hospital. I can't afford to lose my scholarship, Liz."

  "I know, kiddo," she said, patting my hand. "You're going to be just fine. We're going to kick ass and take names so that when we walk across that graduation stage, we'll be super stars!"

  "I hope you're right," I sighed as I finished the rest of my salad. "I really hope you're right."

  #

  Later that afternoon, Liz and I walked into our classroom and found our professor setting up an anatomy lesson covering the skin. Liz muttered a few choice curse words under her breath while I took note of what the professor had written on the board.

  "It's not going to be that bad, Liz," I whispered as we took our seats in the middle of the classroom. "It's just basic anatomy. Stuff we've been studying forever."

  "Well, that would be helpful if I'd been studying it," Liz said mournfully.

  "Liz! Why didn't you tell me you needed help?" I whispered. "I would have shared my flashcards with you or helped you study."

  "I know, I know," she said. "Well, now's as good a time as ever to turn it all around!"

  Twenty minutes later, Professor Jackson began the lecture, and I found myself lost in the intricacies of human anatomy as it related to the skin. I loved learning about the way the body was not only designed to be an efficient machine, but also how easily that machine could be disrupted by even the smallest abnormality. It wasn't that I wanted people to get sick, it was just that I loved learning how we, as medical professionals, could learn how to identify the problems and contribute to the process of fixing them.

  "So, you can see how important healthy skin is to the overall function of the body," Professor Jackson said as she tied together the main points of the lecture. "Any time the skin is compromised, you have to keep an eye out for infection. A breach in skin layers can be as small as a paper cut or as large as a third-degree burn, and cause major problems either way. This is why good hygiene is so vitally important when you are dealing with the skin. Now, any questions?"

  "Is this going to be on the exam?" Violet Metzler asked in a bored voice as she looked down at her nails. "And if it's not, could you be so kind as to give us an idea of what will be on the exam?"

  "Ms. Metzler, it would be safe to assume that everything I lecture about will be part of an exam," Professor Jackson replied. "After all, this knowledge is what you will need in order to function as a nurse."

  "Yeah, but see, I'm planning to be an administrator," Violet replied in the same bored tone as she flipped her hair over her shoulder and said, "I don't intend to have to actually deal with patients, so I don't want to waste my time memorizing things that aren't going to be useful in my administrative capacity."

  "Ms. Metzler, administrators normally work their way up through the ranks, so you're going to need to actually practice nursing before you are allowed to supervise other nurses," Professor Jackson said, raising her eyebrow.

  "Yeah, no. My daddy is going to put me in charge of the nurses at his hospital as soon as I graduate, so I don't need to worry about all that stuff," Violet said, waving her hand impatiently.

  "And I wish you, and him, the best of luck with that," Professor Jackson said, turning back toward the board. "Are there any other questions?"

  "How can you quickly recognize skin infections, Professor Jackson?" I asked without raising my hand. "I mean, how do you know the difference between an irritation and an actual infection?"

  "Good question, Ms. Pierce," she said. "Let's talk about the differences!"

  For the next half hour, Professor Jackson laid out the various ways in which we could differentiate between irritations and actual infections as I scribbled notes as fast as I could. She covered bacterial, viral, and fungal skin infections in detail explaining that when in doubt, we should always ask for a second opinion from someone who is outside of the case. She explained that sometimes the caretakers working on a case were too close to see things clearly, so it was always good to get a second set of eyes on the problem.

  "In closing, I'd recommend that you also remember that while it is tempting to go for the most c
omplex diagnosis," she said looking around the room, "often the right answer is the simplest answer. Now, I want to remind you that we have exams coming up at the end of the term, and you'll need to score 90% or higher in order to move on to the next level of your training. This means you need to hit the books, ladies and gentlemen."

  "Why is she looking at me?" Liz grumbled as we packed up our things, pulled on our coats and gloves, and got ready to head to our next class.

  "Maybe she can sense that you are a lost soul who needs saving?" I teased as we walked across campus toward the hall where our psychology class was held. It was freezing outside, but the sun was shining and it reflected off of the fresh snow, making the campus look like a winter wonderland. Chicago could be brutally cold in the winter, but days like this, the ones just before we turned the corner and headed toward spring, were the ones I loved best.

  "Maybe she needs to focus on straightening out the attitude of little Miss Rich Girl," Liz said, flipping her ponytail. "I'm not the problem, she is."

  "Maybe Professor Jackson has given up trying to teach Violet anything because Violet doesn't see the value in learning," I suggested, pulling my scarf more tightly around my neck as the wind picked up. "She's right about the fact that she's not going to have to work in the field like the rest of us will, so why expend energy trying to make her see things differently?"

  "Good point," Liz muttered as she reached around and dug into her backpack with one hand, pulling out a tube of lipstick and then proceeding to freshen the color as we walked.

  "I cannot for the life of me understand how you do that," I said admiringly. "I'd have it all over my face if I tried that."

  "Eh, it's not so difficult once you get the hang of it," Liz said as she started to instruct me in the art of walking and applying lipstick.

  "You really should reconsider learning that skill," a voice behind us said. I turned and found Violet Metzler walking five feet behind us with a knowing look on her face. Little puffs of frozen air drifted from her mouth as she sneered, "It's so tacky and common."