by Katie Ashley
Just a few minutes before seven, the hospital slowly stirred awake from the evening shift. I smiled and bobbed my head at the stream of bleary and beleaguered looking doctors and nurses heading out to their cars. I remembered all too well what it was like to pull the night shift—I’d gotten that experience years ago during my clinicals.
As I lurched off the elevator, I ran into my nursing partner and best friend, Derwin, or Dee, as he preferred to be known as. “Hey boss lady, settin’ a nice example being late. Again.”
“Bite me.”
A wide grin curved across his caramel colored skin. “Hmm, maybe if you were six feet of broad shouldered-muscled man, I might be tempted.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know how much it pisses me off to be late.” I set my cup of coffee down on the desk with a little more force than I intended, sending steaming liquid sloshing out. “Figlio di puttana!” I cried, before bringing my burning finger to my mouth.
Dee clutched his heart and staggered back a little. “Oh lawd, she’s already cussing in Italian. It’s gonna be a helluva a day.”
“Do me a huge favor and clean that up, please?”
He gave me a mock salute. “Yes ma’am.”
“Thanks, smartass.” Hustling into the break room, I shoved my purse into my locker. I slammed the door shut before returning to the front room to Dee. He had just finished tossing the soaked paper towel in the trash.
I gave my coffee a wary eye before picking it back up. “How’s it looking this morning?”
“Well, I was doing a little scan of the charts, and it seems one of the dudes we’re getting post-bypass is sorta famous.”
“Really?”
Dee bobbed his head, causing his tightly woven dreads to bounce slightly. “I guess you’d say famous by association. He’s the head roadie for Runaway Train.”
I slurped down another scorching gulp of coffee. “Who?”
With a frustrated grunt, Dee threw up his hand. “Girl, don’t tell me you don’t know who Runaway Train is?”
“Excuse me for not knowing every random band out there.”
Dee sank down into one of the station chairs. “They aren’t random—they were nominated for Best New Artist at the Grammys last year.”
I shrugged. “So?”
Reaching to gather up some charts, he replied, “And the band is made up of four incredibly hot dudes.”
“So that fact alone is supposed to make them worthy of my time?”
“Hell to the yes!”
“Just because they have dicks doesn’t make them worthy of my time or knowledge,” I huffed. Grabbing a chart from him, I cocked my brow. “So what kind of music do they play?”
“Light metal mixed with pop. Kinda like Maroon Five, Matchbox Twenty, or One Republic.”
I wrinkled my nose. “That’s why I don’t know them. You know I only listen to country, the classic Italian crooners, or…rap,” I replied, as I dug my stethoscope out of a drawer.
Dee gave a contemptuous snort. “You only listened to rap because of Dev.”
A wave of nausea overtook me at the mere mention of my ex fiancé. With my legs feeling wobbly, I flopped down into the nearest chair. Wrapping the stethoscope around my neck, I fought not to hurl the bagel and cream cheese I’d just scarfed down. “Did you have to bring him up?” I whispered.
“Mimi,” Dee said softly, using his nickname for me. “It’s been six months. You gotta let go.”
“I’m trying.” At Dee’s ‘You gotta be shittin’ me look’, I threw up my hands. “Give me a fucking break, okay? I have a reason for being completely on edge about Dev.”
“Oh really?”
I huffed out a breath that was coupled with both frustration and grief. “I got in last night to a fuckload of Facebook notifications alerting me that he and the slutbag were living it up in Fiji—the same place we were supposed to go on our honeymoon.”
Dee grunted. “Only you would have the screwed up luck to have your ex-fiancé not only cheat on you, but the bastard had to do it with one of your friends, which means you’re forever stuck seeing and hearing about them from the rest of your circle.”
“I’d call it more of a curse than luck—I am Sicilian after all.” I gave a mirthless laugh as I pulled out another chart. “Let’s face it. My whole fucking love life has been a curse from start to finish.”
“Seriously, Mimi, a curse? Quit being such a drama queen.” He mimed playing a violin—a small one at that. In a sing-song voice, he said, “Oh, poor pitiful me of the sucktastic love life.”
“Asshole,” I snapped. When he chuckled, I crossed my arms over my shoulder. “Don’t make me play the Jason card this morning…it won’t be pretty.”
Dee’s comical expression faded. Scooting his chair closer to mine, Dee leaned forward to place his palms on my knees. He rubbed them tenderly. “You know that Jason is in a whole other realm than Dev.”
“Still a curse.”
“As for Dev, he didn’t deserve you, Mimi.”
Although I fought like hell and wanted to slap my own face for being weak, tears still stung my eyes, making Dee’s appearance before me wavy. Dev had burst into my life three years ago—a bright beacon of light that had been impossible to turn away from. I thought we had the perfect relationship, right down to the glittering diamond on my left hand and the wedding dress being altered at the designers. But the shining façade had shattered when I discovered he’d been sleeping with one of my close friends. And once again, I was left to pick up the pieces…and fight the urge not to inflict bodily harm on him and the skank he ran off with.
It was more than just the betrayal of the man I loved and the girl who I’d thought was my friend. It was the fact it had happened a mere three months after Mama Sofia’s death—the truly darkest period I’ve ever known, and I’d seen some pretty bad ones. Dev’s betrayal kicked up a shit-storm of emotions that wounded my pride to my very core. It had done a number on my self-esteem that I had yet to overcome.
After swiping my eyes with the back of my hand, it took me a moment to meet Dee’s intense gaze. I sighed. “Deep down somewhere inside, I believe that. But unfortunately, it’s hard to get it through my thick skull.”
“The right one is out there for you—I have no doubt of that. Just because it wasn’t Dev, the epic dickhead, it doesn’t mean it won’t happen.”
I gave a bark of a laugh at his summation, but then the mention of the elusive Mr. Right caused a different pang of regret in my chest. “You sound like Mama Sofia.”
“That makes sense.”
“Let me guess. Because you’re both wise, know-it-alls?”
Dee shook his head. “No, because she always loved you and wanted you to have the happiness that you deserve, and I feel the exact same way.”
“Stop it, or I’m going to cry again,” I moaned.
He grinned. “Can’t help speaking the truth, baby girl.” He gave me a smack on both my thighs. “Come out dancing with me and the boys tonight to get your mind off things.”
“Um, I’m not sure how hitting up ATL’s finest gay nightclubs is going to make me feel better about myself.” When Dee started to protest, I reached over and patted his cheek. “It’s a sweet thought, Dee, but it would just be a constant reminder that all the good guys are gay.”
“You gotta get back in the game.”
“Someday…just not…now.”
Dee gave a grunt of frustration before rising out of his chair. “Whatever. Guess it’s time we hit it, huh?”
I grinned. “Hey, who is the shift supervisor here?”
Making praying hands, Dee bowed deep at the waist. “You, oh great and powerful one.”
“That’s right.”
As I started out of the station, Dee smacked me on the ass. I couldn’t help the snort of laugher that escaped my lips at his antics. He was one of a kind, and I couldn’t have had a better friend and nursing partner. He’d stood by me through the last year when a lot of friends would have bailed. His friendship, along w
ith working with him, kept the fragile pieces of my sanity intact.
3
Rhys and I stepped off the fourth floor elevator of St. Joseph’s Hospital armed with gifts for Frank. Although it felt like an eternity had passed, it had been just a week since Frank’s collapse at the Oklahoma City concert. Once he had arrived at the hospital, he had received both good and bad news. He would need a bypass, but his condition was stable enough for him to return home for the surgery. With a nurse at his side, he’d flown home the next day to meet his sons at the airport.
As for the guys and me, we felt like shit doing it, but we had to keep up with the next few stops on the tour. Frank’s oldest son, Rob, kept us updated on his condition during the surgery and while he was in CCU. Fortunately, we had two days off in a row where his second family, the band, could come back home to check on him.
“Which room is it again?” I asked.
Flipping out his phone, Rhys scrolled through his messages. “405.”
I glanced at the sign across from the elevator doors, reading off the room numbers. “Okay, it’s that way,” I replied, pointing to the left.
When we got to 405, I rapped lightly on the door. “Come in,” Frank called.
I poked my head in the door. “Hello, hello. You gotta little room for two wickedly handsome and charming men?”
Frank’s face lit up. “Look who is here!” he exclaimed, pushing himself up in the bed.
Holding the door open for Rhys, we stepped inside. The room could have doubled for a florists with all the Get Well Soon flowers and balloons. I knew Abby and Lily had gone a little overboard on sending daily reminders to Frank about how much he was loved and missed.
I stepped over to the bed. “Hey old man, how you holding up?” I questioned, leaning over to hug Frank’s neck.
Wagging a finger at me, he replied, “Almost good enough to smack you upside the head for calling me ‘old man’!”
I chuckled as I pulled away. “You look a helluva lot better than the last time we saw you.”
“I know. I feel a lot better too.”
Rhys stepped forward to hug Frank. “Bray, Lily, and Abby are coming by to see you in a little while, but Jake…” Rhys grimaced.
Frank smiled knowingly. “I understand. He’s gun-shy between what happened with Abby’s attack and poor Susan’s illness. It’s only been six months, so it makes total sense that hospitals and illness spook him.” He waved his IV-clad hand dismissively. “Besides, he doesn’t need to come by and see me. Hell, he called Rob three or four times a day when I was in the CCU, and I’ve talked to him several times.”
My brows rose in surprise. “Really?”
“Yep.”
“He didn’t tell us that,” Rhys replied.
“He probably didn’t tell you that he put me on three months paid leave either, did he?”
Rhys and I exchanged a glance before shaking our heads in unison.
Frank smiled. “He wants me to rest completely and be in the best shape possible to take my old job back.”
“Jackass coulda told us all this,” I grumbled.
“You know Jake well enough by now not to assume that.”
“True.”
Frank sniffed the air appreciatively while a curious grin spread on his lips. “Is that the Varsity I smell?”
Rhys laughed. “It sure as hell is. We figured they were starving you to death with shitty hospital food, so AJ and I decided to get you some of your favorites.” Digging in the bag, Rhys produced the Varsity’s familiar red box with a football player on the front.
Closing his eyes in bliss, Frank said, “Chili dogs, fries, and onion rings, right?”
“Oh yeah.” Taking the box from Rhys, I added with my best French accent, “And for the Pièce de résistance—a fried peach pie.”
I set the food box on the standard hospital table in front of Frank. He lifted the lid and inhaled the deliciously greasy aroma. “Mmm, mmm, you boys are amazing.”
Holding up a finger, I said, “Ah, but we’re not done yet. Show him, Rhys.”
He nodded before his hand disappeared into the bag. “Your favorite drink—a Frosted Orange.”
“We kept it in a cooler so it wouldn’t melt,” I added.
Frank shook his head with a grin. “You two thought of everything.”
“Beats flowers, doesn’t it?” I questioned.
“Sure as hell does.” A look of shame flickered on his face. “But don’t tell Abby and Lily that I said that. For some reason, those two gals think a gruff, old widower like myself needs daily flowers and balloons. Not even my daughters-in-law do that shit.”
Rhys and I laughed. “It’ll be our little secret,” I replied.
As Frank went to work devouring a chili dog, Rhys jumped up on the ledge in front of the window, swinging his legs back and forth, while I plopped down into the heinously uncomfortable chair next to Frank’s bed. We were just shooting the shit on all that had happened while he had been gone when the door swung open. Immediately, I got a swift kick in the pants of the most delicious kind. A tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed goddess of a nurse strode into the room. Through her standard blue scrubs, I detected she possessed every attribute that gave me instant wood—wide, curvy hips, thick thighs, a voluptuous ass, and a full, natural rack.
“Oh shit!” Frank exclaimed. His panicked gaze swept right and then left, as if he were trying to think of a speedy getaway. I couldn’t imagine from the way his Angel of Mercy nurse looked, not to mention her genuinely caring expression, that she could possibly be worthy of such fear. He was acting like she was Nurse Ratched out of One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest or something.
She only smiled at his reaction. “Now Mr. Patterson, that’s not your usual greeting. You’re always so happy to see me.”
“I can see why,” Rhys muttered under his breath.
“No shit,” I replied.
“Er, uh…I’m sorry, Mia.” Frank gave her a reassuring smile. “I promise I’m very grateful for the care you have been giving me. It’s just, well, you kinda took me by surprise. That’s all.”
“I’m glad to hear you approve of my care, and I’m sorry if I gave you a shock. I’ll be more careful since that isn’t good for your ticker.” Her gaze flicked over to Rhys and me. “You must be Frank’s grandsons. He said you were coming in from out of town.”
Frank chuckled. “Actually, those knuckleheads are my bosses.”
Mia’s dark brows popped up in surprise. “Really?”
With a nod, Frank said, “Yep, that’s AJ Resendiz and Rhys McGowan.” He gazed over at us. “Boys, this is the most amazing nurse any man could ever hope for, Mia Martinelli.”
“You’re such a flatterer, Mr. Patterson,” Mia replied, before giving Rhys and me a wave. “Oh wait, now I remember. You’re the guys my nursing partner was telling me about. The ones in the band.”
Pursing my lips into my signature smirk, I replied, “Well, we’re not just in any band. We’re in Runaway Train.”
“I’m sorry, but I hadn’t heard of you before,” she replied, appearing genuinely apologetic.
Ouch. That statement was a different kick in the pants. I couldn’t remember the last time a chick hadn’t instantly recognized us or at least been utterly star-struck by being in our presence. I leaned forward in my chair. “Maybe you’ll give us a listen?”
She smiled. “Of course I will. It’s not every day I come into contact with a Grammy nominated band.”
“Thank you,” Rhys replied, giving Mia his own seductive smile. I fought the urge to knock it off his face.
“Maybe you could sign something for me?” she suggested.
My gaze honed in on her breasts, and I knew exactly where I wanted to sign. “Sure, I’d love to.”
Mia cleared her throat, and I snapped my gaze to hers. The expression on her face told me she knew exactly where my one-track mind had gone. “Actually, would it be too much to ask for a CD or—”Mia sniffed the air suspiciously. Her dark eyes
bulged at the sight of the opened Varsity containers in front of Frank. “Mr. Patterson, please tell me that just three days after you underwent a triple bypass that I am hallucinating the artery clogging food in front of you?”
Frank’s face turned the color of an overripe tomato at her admonishment. “Maybe,” he replied weakly.
Crossing her arms over her ample cleavage, Mia shook her head back and forth so fast I figured she would get whiplash. “How many times have we been over your diet since you were discharged from CCU?”
Cowering a little, Frank replied, “Several.”
“I’m so disappointed in you,” Mia admonished. Her wrathful gaze turned on Rhys and me. “Since this food didn’t materialize out of thin air, I suppose you two are to blame?”
“We just wanted to bring him his favorite food,” Rhys replied.
Mia’s eyes narrowed. “He just had by-pass surgery! He can’t eat stuff like this.”
I shrugged. “We didn’t know that.”
“Did you leave your brain in your guitar case?”
“I play the drums,” I corrected.
“Whatever,” Mia snapped. She grabbed Frank’s box of chili dogs and fries and slammed them into the trash. “I suppose you would think it was a good idea to take a bottle of champagne to someone just discharged from rehab, huh?” She started to swipe the drink off as well, but it bounced off the trash can lid and landed straight into my lap. Busting on impact, the ice-cold orange soda coated my crotch, stinging like tiny daggers over my skin. “Fuck!” I shouted, leaping to my feet.
“Oh my God, I’m sorry,” Mia apologized.
What happened next could only be expressed as something out of a warped fantasy. With a wad of napkins in hand, Mia dropped to her knees before me—my dick eye-level with her gorgeous face. She began furiously toweling off the front of my jeans. It took all of two seconds for the visual, along with her ministrations, to have me at half-mast.
“Umm,” I began.
“Sorry, but this will stain if we don’t get it off.”
When I dared glancing over at Rhys, his hand covered his mouth, smothering the laughter that caused his whole body to shake. Frank wore an expression of amused horror. Okay, so Florence Nightingale couldn’t take a hint. I guess I was going to have to make it as plain as I could. Leaning over, I whispered into Mia’s ear. “Cariño, as much as it kills me to ask you to stop this rubdown, if you don’t, you’re going to make another mess to clean up. Inside my pants.”
