by J. S. Scott
“I have.” Mary Alice crossed her arms and stared her down. She took a final drag of her smoke, then chucked it in the fire, ignoring the mistletoe ashtray Katie’s mother had set out on the snowy porch railing. “So you two? I was talking to Liz today.”
“How’s her hand?” Katie asked, heading her off.
“Fine enough. I heard you two are working together again tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Nash replied.
“Well, I’ll try to keep everyone out of the hospital for you.” With a wink, Mary Alice stepped back indoors, leaving Katie to wonder what the woman saw when she looked at the two of them and if that something had actual potential.
Chapter Three
Last night Katie had made it through her mother’s Christmas Eve party with no major incidents. She’d even managed to spend time with Beth and Oz without feeling too terribly guilty for a) reasons of kissing the ex, b) enjoying it, as well as c) spending time with him during dinner—although she could argue that Beth and Oz were married and had each other, whereas she had nobody and nothing but her (not quite) bitter, broken heart for company—and finally, d) for ignoring Nash a teensy bit in order to spend time with other people.
The problem was, neglecting Nash had opened him up for every single, eligible woman in Blueberry Springs to move in on him, which Katie had found surprisingly distracting. But really, it was good, because maybe all that flirty-flirt business would throw Mary Alice off the track.
Not that there was a track. Nash was her best friend’s ex. That was a line you didn’t cross.
For any reason.
Probably.
“Nurse Reiter.”
Katie inhaled, bracing herself against that brisk voice she hated so dearly. She turned, jaw set. “Yes, Nash.”
Just like old times.
Except he grinned as though it was their own secret game, and she couldn’t help but smile back.
Just like new times.
“Are you needing to cut nursing supplies for another major project of yours?” she asked with fake sweetness.
“I was thinking, since you are so good with PICC lines, you could use cheaper needles in order to leave the better ones for the other nurses. We’d save approximately twenty-three dollars over the course of the year. Be a sport and help out the hospital?”
She gave his chest a playful shove. “Merry Christmas Nash-hole.”
He grabbed her arm, wincing in fake pain at the nickname. “Ouch.”
She smiled and tugged her hand free so she could give him one of the emergency gifts she kept wrapped and under her basement suite’s tree in case someone gave her an unexpected present. This morning it had felt right to print Nash’s name on the tag. And not just as a bribe to keep him from spilling the beans about her wanting to go into decorating—not that she thought he would.
“For me?” he asked, clearly surprised.
“To take away the sting of my bites.”
He let out a rich laugh and set his coffee down on the nurses’ station.
“Hey! You can’t eat and snack here. It is a rule we adhere to from years ago. An esteemed doctor—Nash Leham, have you heard of him?—put this rule into place and it is as highly regarded as he is.”
“Katie, shut up. You had me at ‘Hey’ and that scary tone of yours. I won’t snack or drink here.” He sat in her chair, kicked his feet up on the desk and chugged his coffee, then set the mug down on her notes.
She spun the chair around so he faced her. Standing over him, she demanded, “What the hell has gotten into you?” He set the wrapped box aside and stared at her, not answering. “Really! What?”
He glanced away and gave a small shrug.
She yanked the chair closer. She needed to know why he was in Blueberry Springs and why he was joking around and acting like a nice guy—a guy she could totally fall for. She gave the chair a rattle. “What?”
“I got lonely, okay? I was fine chasing my career before I came out here, but now…I just… It got under my skin, okay?”
The shock of his confession knocked her sideways. “Do you want to move back?”
“I don’t have the energy to go through all that renovation and decorating stuff in Blueberry Springs again.”
“I could do it.” She waited, not daring to breathe or blink.
“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“You’d pay me, so yes, you could. I hated your old place, because it wasn’t Beth’s home and it represented everything you were trying to change in her. However, stylistically, it was gorgeous. I think you still need something sleek, fresh, and with strong lines. Practical, efficient storage to keep you organized, but with a modern, yet classic style. Simple lighting with an open concept would suit you.”
“Bullshit baffles brains. That’s just a lot of jargon.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Challenge accepted, Nash Leham.”
He rocked back in her chair, smiling.
“You know how your old place had that island between the kitchen and the sitting area?” she asked. When he nodded, she continued, “It was too wide and too high. It stopped conversation and I’ll bet that bothered you. You liked how it closed off the kitchen, but when you entertained, it felt like a barrier.”
He paused thoughtfully. “How did you know that?”
“I’m that good.”
A slip of a smile was her reward and she pushed the chair away in triumph. It was either that or kiss him, and a woman had to remember where to draw the line.
“Hey,” said a soft, slightly confused voice.
Katie turned to find Beth watching them. Katie pointed at Nash and cleared her throat. “He’s still a stubborn ass who wants things his way and doesn’t think others measure up to his level.” She dusted her hands together, ignoring Nash’s hurt look. “You made the right choice, Beth.”
“Baby, I’ve changed,” he said in a flat voice, hands out to Beth. He wasn’t even trying.
Watching Nash react to her words, Katie learned three important truths. He hadn’t come for his ex. He hadn’t been playing a game. He was back. Back for Katie.
It was time to stop thinking again.
“I brought this for you.” Beth placed a warm drink on the counter. She adjusted her pink woolly hat over her chestnut curls. “I left you one in the ER, Nash.”
“Thanks.” He gave her a friendly peck on the cheek, snagging Katie’s gift as he went. “Merry Christmas.”
The women watched him move down the hall, and Katie hoped Beth wouldn’t ask too many questions.
Beth took Katie’s seat, rubbing her swollen stomach through her coat. “So? What’s up between you and Nash?”
“He’s still a pain in my backside.”
“Huh. I thought he seemed different.”
“Well, yeah, kind of,” Katie said. She had kissed him without imploding. That implied change, didn’t it?
“If you’re being mad at him for my sake, I’m past it. And I think he is, too.” Beth focused on the distance. “It seems important to him to patch things up between the two of you. He sounded worried about you when I told him about Will.”
“You talked to him about my breakup?”
“Sure.” She gave a small shrug. Then her eyes flashed with inspiration. “You two should date.”
“No.” Katie backed away. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.” It would be a fabulous idea.
“Why not? You guys would be perfect. All neat and anal about your ideas. And he’s really a great guy. He just wasn’t the one for me.”
“But good enough for me?”
“Oh, silly you. It’s probably just my pregnant brain talking and wanting everyone to pair up. He was really committed, plus he’s the kind of man you need, because he won’t put up with your bull.”
“Okay, I’ve heard enough. Book the chapel on your way home.”
“I’m serious.” Beth rocked to her feet, her hands out for balance.
“Be careful on your drive,” Katie said, catching her friend and d
irecting her toward the hall that led to the parking lot. “A bad storm is coming through. You’d better head home.” And never talk to Nash about this idea, because at the rate things were going, he didn’t need support. She did.
* * *
Katie stood inside the ER doors, mesmerized at how fast and hard the snowflakes were falling. There was already a foot on the sidewalks. With a grin, she smoothed her ponytail. If this snow kept up, she’d be stuck at work overnight. Not something most people wished for on Christmas Day, when there was a delicious turkey waiting for them after work. But then again, most people didn’t have a mother who had gone nutso for the holidays and had terrified them with so many decorations their head spun like a pinwheel just thinking about it.
Her mom had called at 5:00 a.m. to ensure Katie could find her Christmas cardigan—which she was to wear over her Christmas-themed scrubs, which were to go over her holly turtleneck, which was, of course, over her—yes, her mother went that far—mistletoe lingerie. Not to mention the Santa socks, the light-up Christmas tree earrings, the jingle bell hair elastic, and Rudolph pin complete with a blinking nose.
Katie was ready to jump in a snowbank and hope for an avalanche rather than face her mother and yet more holiday cheer. Or admit to anyone that she had, in fact, dressed herself this morning.
What would her mom do tomorrow when Christmas was officially over? Would she go into a deep depression as withdrawal set in? Or would she start planning how she could make next year even bigger and better? Possibly, Katie might slip her a sleeping pill, as the woman had to be exhausted by now.
Turning away from the falling snow that was morphing the parked cars in the lot into hibernating bear humps, Katie moseyed down the quiet halls to the nursing station. Most patients who could be released had gone home to spend the holidays with their families. The rest would likely be having company later on tonight, assuming the roads were still passable.
Humming “Jingle Bells,” Katie rounded a corner and bumped into Nash. She flicked his tie, which sported snowflakes. “All these flakes look suspiciously alike.”
He smiled and smoothed his tie back into place under his doctor’s coat before she could adjust it for him. “How’s the weather looking?”
“I think we may end up stuck here for the night. The wind is expected to kick up as well.”
Nash leaned against the wall to study her. “You truly are happy to be stuck here?”
“I am.”
“Is it because I’ll be here?” he teased. “Or are you trying to get out of your Christmas dinner invitation?”
Katie tried to ignore the blush that stole across her cheeks, burning a trail. “Or maybe because I get to avoid an even larger production than you witnessed at Chez Reiter last night.”
“French?”
“I do believe my accent is better than yours.”
“That was not how you say Louboutin,” he said with a thick French accent, resurrecting an old battle.
She moved closer. “I do believe it is.”
“And have you ever been to France?”
“Have you ever taken me?” she retorted.
He leaned in, his lips almost touching hers. “Do you want me to?”
“You could take me anywhere.”
Oh, man. What was she doing? She was practically begging Nash to take her to bed. In France. Definitely not in the day planner. Not that one.
But it should be. Someone hand her a pencil. No, make that a permanent marker.
“Really?” he asked, his voice low. He still wasn’t touching her, kissing her. But desire flashed in his icy eyes.
He would be good in bed, she thought. All that fire. It would translate into hot, sweaty sex for sure.
Trey, a teen who worked in the hardware store and had picked up a few housekeeping shifts at the hospital over the holidays, tore by, his slushy boots squeaking, chunks of damp snow falling off his coat. He dangled a plastic piece of mistletoe over Nash and Katie, stretching to do so.
“Kiss! You’re under the mistletoe.”
They didn’t need prompting. Nash’s arms—surprisingly strong—tugged her tight against his body. Katie pressed her palms to his chest, unsure whether she should push him off with a laugh or perform a tonsil check with her tongue. There was a reason not to kiss him, even in a jolly, festive, platonic way, but darn if she could recall what that was.
Or what platonic meant.
His lips were demanding. Demanding what, exactly? she wondered. Reciprocity. He was challenging her.
Challenge accepted.
He was not coming out on top. She would be the one leaving him panting, thank you very much. She kissed back, hard, putting everything she had into outdoing him. She pulled her sexiest moves, and his body responded against hers.
“Okay, that’s enough!” Trey snapped. “My arm is getting tired. Besides, I thought you two were, like, rivals or something?”
“Still are,” Katie murmured as she broke the lip-lock. Her eyes felt heavy with seduction and she didn’t want to remove her hands from Nash’s chest. He felt good. Right.
How could that be?
“Completely hate each other,” Nash replied, his arms still tight around her.
“Right, then. I’m off to give Lauretta a chance with Gran’s boyfriend, Reggie. Ciao.”
Nash loosened his grip at the mention of his ex-fiancée’s grandmother, and Katie stepped back, breaking their embrace completely.
She felt cold standing in Trey’s puddle of melted snow.
She couldn’t seem to break eye contact with Nash. Their flirting had slipped under her skin, the kiss sealing the deal.
She was officially in lust with her best friend’s ex.
All Katie had to do was take one step forward and she’d be back in Nash’s arms. Only this time she didn’t have an excuse. Granted, there was no excuse for the way she’d kissed him only seconds ago. Mistletoe or not.
“So we might get stranded here? Together?” Nash asked, his voice throaty and deep. He couldn’t seem to pull his attention away from her lips.
“Baby, it’s cold outside.” She was easing closer. Leaning in, inhaling his scent, memorizing it for the forbidden fantasies she’d surely be enjoying later.
“Dr. Leham!” Amy scuttled around the corner, halting abruptly when she spotted Katie. “You’re needed in the ER.”
He’d been leaning in, too, Katie noticed as he straightened. So quick, he practically took the air with him.
“Katie, you’d better come, too.” The nurse’s voice was stern and serious.
Katie and Nash fell into step, hurrying down the hall. As Katie rounded the corner to the ER, she almost laughed, feeling as though she was filming a medical drama and the credits were about to roll, with the two of them racing to save the day. Her breath left her chest as she spotted the patient sitting on a gurney, clutching his midriff.
“Dad! Is it your heart?” She knew it wasn’t; he was clutching the wrong part of his body. But seeing her father in pain pretty much negated her nursing degree.
“I don’t think so,” he gasped. He leaned on Katie’s shoulder as she wrapped an arm around him. “I’m glad I have the best nurse in town to help me. No offense, Amy.”
“None taken,” the other nurse grumbled.
“Appendix? Gall bladder?” asked Angelica. She was hovering, her eyes so wide they amplified the whole reindeer thing she had going on with her antler headband and Rudolph sweater.
“Dad,” Katie said carefully, “is this the same pain you were having last night?”
“It wasn’t the cabbage rolls,” Angelica informed the group. She placed a hand on her daughter’s wrist. “Dear, I told you your Christmas outfit would come together. You look lovely. Such a ray of sunshine for your patients.”
A ray of sunshine. Yes, she was. She blinded them with too much Christmas whenever she entered a room. Add eye exams to every patient on the floor, please.
“I’m sorry I’m ruining Christmas,” Harv
ey said to his wife, as Nash had him lay back for an examination. “I know how much tonight means to you.”
“Well, then, you’d better get fixed up so we can head home before that turkey dries out.” Angelica seemed to be half teasing, half serious. She dabbed at her eyes and turned away.
“There is plenty of food even if it dries out,” her husband said. “Ow!”
“Hurts more when I touch there?” Nash said gently, as he probed the man’s abdomen.
“Yes.” Harvey gasped again as he tried to curl away from the doctor’s touch.
“Call Oz,” Katie told her mom. “He can walk over and check on the turkey. This will take some time.” She turned the thermometer’s reading so Nash could see it. They shared a look.
“I have so much left to do.” Her mother buried her head in her hands. “Oh, this Christmas is cursed. First you having to work, then Devon getting cut by his tree decoration, and now your father.” She let out a plaintive cry, then straightened, her power-mom persona back in place. “Fix him up, Dr. Leham, Harvey has somewhere to be and work to do.”
Her father let out a moan as Nash continued to tap and prod him. Katie knew from years of experience that her father’s pain levels indicated something bad. Quite bad.
“Mom,” she said firmly, “go call Oz.”
“Go home, Angelica,” Harvey said, sitting up. “Go home.” A sheen of sweat broke over his forehead and he appeared ready to vomit. Katie passed a kidney-shaped emesis basin to Nash, who had it under her father’s chin in the nick of time. Harvey coughed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “The weather is worsening. Go. I’ll be home right after you.”
“And how will you get home, mister?” Angelica asked, placing her hands on her hips in a way that made Katie realize things were going to break loose if she didn’t take control. Her mother was trembling, her worry and fear for her husband taking over her nervous system.
“Mom, go call. Let Dr. Leham finish his examination, okay?”
Angelica hovered near the door, biting her thumbnail. “The turkey will be fine for a few more minutes. I can wait.”
“Go,” Katie said, her voice low.
Her mother turned and left the room, the welcoming scent of cinnamon and cloves following her.
