First Kiss

by Bernadette Marie

  Jesse glanced to the side of the stage. Bryce had made his way to the woman he’d pointed out in the crowd. He was obviously giving her directions, but even Bryce was probably thinking he was crazy.

  Never, in all the years that he’d been performing, had he ever pulled someone from the crowd to sing to, but there was something about this woman that had caught his attention. Perhaps it was because she stood out simply by not standing out.

  The blouse she wore was a simple, white button-down with a pair of jeans. Her hair was a wonderment of wayward, brown curls. But from the row in front of the stage, her eyes had sparkled up at him and caught hold.

  The song ended, and the lights dimmed. His band carried on as the crew pulled two stools to the center of the stage.

  Jesse let out a breath. Stage fright was bad enough, but walking toward this woman, he decided it was the lesser of two evils.

  The eyes that had mesmerized him now were wide open, perhaps a bit fearful.

  He smiled and tried to calm his own nerves. “Hi, I’m Jesse.” He held his hand out to her.

  “Melissa.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.” He kept hold of her hand. “I’d like to sing to you.”

  She nodded as though words were impossible. He understood that well enough. He hoped he remembered the song now that she stood before him.

  Jesse switched hands and led her out to the stage where the crew member helped her onto her stool, but he never let go of her hand.

  The music formed into the melody the world had accepted. His most current number one hit had given him the leap to super stardom and he hated it, but it encompassed what he was feeling at that very moment.

  As the lights came up and he could see her face even more clearly, he knew this would be the hardest song he would ever sing. He, the man who dated super models and actresses, was nearly paralyzed by her beauty. There were no Botox-filled lines, no four-inch high heels on her feet, or even a trace of lipstick on her lips. If anyone he knew found out his heart was flipping in his chest over this woman, they’d have him committed.

  Melissa’s hand shook in his. He covered the mic on his cheek. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded as the volume of the music increased, and the crowd around them erupted into applause.

  Jesse took a breath and began to sing the ballad of Admirer to the woman who had him as giddy as a schoolboy.

  Meet the Author

  Bestselling Author Bernadette Marie is known for building families readers want to be part of. Her series The Keller Family has graced bestseller charts since its release in 2011, along with her other series and single title books.

  The married mother of five sons promises Happily Ever After always…and says she can write it, because she lives it.

  When not writing, Bernadette Marie is shuffling her sons to their many events—mostly hockey—and enjoying the beautiful views of the Colorado Rocky Mountains from her front step. She is also an accomplished martial artist with a second degree black belt in Tang Soo Do.

  www.bernadettemarie.com

  5 Prince Publishing has many talented authors.

  We would like to introduce you to another!

  Please enjoy an excerpt from

  Rocky Road

  By

  Susan Lohrer

  ROCKY ROAD

  Wouldn’t someone who really wanted to get married be a little more careful than this? Not that Ancy doubted Mark’s intentions. He was The One. And she wouldn’t nag him about it.

  Honestly though, severing most of the nerves in his hand should’ve been enough for one week—but no! He had to go and whop himself on the head too. It wasn’t like Mark to be this accident-prone, and he’d been getting worse over the last few months. Working too hard so he’d be a good provider, no doubt. That’s just the kind of guy he was. She smiled, visualizing him in a black tux.

  Focusing on her impending nuptials usually distracted her from thinking about whether she’d make department head. And lately, her impending groom had been more than enough distraction.

  She checked the temperature of the paraffin tub. “This’ll feel a little hot, but it’ll help with flexibility.” He grimaced as she dipped his right hand into the warm wax. Then he gave her bum a squeeze with the left one. “Quit it before someone sees us.”

  Since he wasn’t dragging his feet—that much seemed obvious—why couldn’t he stay in one piece long enough to put some professional distance between them?

  “Mark, you’ve dropped a wall on your head, nailed your foot to the floor, and dislocated your shoulder. Are you trying to get out of our wedding?”

  Whoops. She bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder. Outpatient Physical Therapy was crowded in the afternoon. The last thing she needed was for someone to overhear her in a lover’s spat… with her patient. That would not only prevent her promotion to department head, it would end her career. Instantly. Working quickly, she covered the warm wax with a plastic bag, then slipped a padded mitten over the whole thing to lock in the heat.

  If only there were a simple way to get around the patient-therapist dating taboo. But because her specialty was post-traumatic hand rehabilitation, she was the therapist most qualified to care for Mark’s injuries—so she and Mark were forced into secrecy until he regained the use of his hand. “Well, couldn’t you try to be just a little more careful?” She kept her voice to a low hiss. “At this rate, I’ll be ninety by the time we even set the date.”

  “Aw Ancy, a few more weeks and this thing will be as good as new.” He grinned and held up his thickly swaddled hand.

  Yeah, right. She’d treated her share of injuries. This one was far from pretty, even though she hadn’t seen it until after the surgery. His poor body. “Please just be more careful. I want to wear my ring on my finger, not on my necklace where no one can see it.” She displayed her perfectly healthy left hand, its third finger perfectly naked. Did Mark have any idea how hard it was on her to keep this a secret? And not just from the department—from Jen, her best friend in the whole world.

  Though she was the one best qualified to treat Mark, Jen—perky, sexy Jen—could have treated his injuries. But then Jen and Mark—not that she didn’t trust him—but why create temptation by throwing her beefcake fiancé into the capable arms of her best friend? Besides, every difficult PT case brought her another step closer to becoming department head. She couldn’t risk losing that kind of security, not when she almost had it in her grasp.

  “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

  “You worry too much.” He looked so hot when he gave her that wink that said she could count on him no matter what.

  “Mark, I’m serious.” She added a stern, professional note to her voice as Doris Ridgewood, the department head—who was due for retirement any second—passed by. “You have to take some time off work to rest. If you don’t, you’ll never regain full use of your hand.”

  Doris nodded approvingly and continued on her way.

  Mark leaned close. “It’s kind of exciting, don’t you think, Ance?”

  “What is?” She checked her watch. Almost time to unwrap the hand and work on scar mobility.

  “Knowing you’ll be mine to have and to hold.” He waggled his dark brows meaningfully. “This hand is going to make a full recovery, and you know what I’m gonna do with it.”

  She could feel the blood rushing from her extremities, and probably from a few vital organs, straight to her face.

  Jen, between patients, was walking past. Had she overheard Mark’s titanically not-suitable-for-work innuendo? She slowed. Cocked her head. Pivoted on her heels. Ancy’s promotion slithered down to the pit of her belly as Jen marched up to her and pulled her aside, a thunderstorm brewing in her eyes. “Is this guy giving you a hard time?”

  Fresh guilt welled up inside Ancy, and she was sure her cheeks were as red as if Jen had targeted her with a laser pointer. Jen didn’t have a clue, and it made Ancy feel like a big, fat liar.

  “I um, got
something in my eye.” Jen shot her a strange look. But it was the only thing Ancy could think of on such short notice. She turned away and pretended to wipe at her face. When she looked again, Jen was with another patient. Ancy had never kept a secret from her best friend before, and she was starting to hate the way it made her feel.

  Maybe she should tell Jen and just get this whole thing off her shoulders. But then Jen would be obligated to tell Doris, and Ancy wouldn’t blame her if she did. And she’d lose her job. Her watch’s second hand swept up to the 12.

  Back to Mark. The mitten, the bag, and the wax came off, and she began to manipulate his hand through range-of-motion exercises, bending and stretching all his fingers, careful not to apply too much pressure to the still-healing surgery scars. His hands were muscular. Strong hands, dependable hands. The hands of a man who would stand by her through whatever life threw at them. And he wouldn’t leave her the way Steve had. The way her father had left her family.

  “Nice technique, Ancy.” Doris’s voice behind her shoulder made her flinch. The woman didn’t approach like a normal person, she appeared. Ancy had never once heard her coming. “Young man,” Doris said, skimming over the floor and coming to stand beside Ancy, “our Miss Robertson is highly qualified in her specialty. She’s one of the best.”

  Wow. It wasn’t every day Doris handed out a compliment like that. Could it reflect an intention to recommend Ancy for the promotion?

  “Of course, Fidelity General Hospital is soon to be blessed with a second, equally qualified therapist. He’s one of our alumni. Your case might prove especially interesting to him.” She glided away, and Ancy pictured Doris as a young, heavy-browed girl balancing a book on her head.

  Her mind was racing. “Mark, do you realize what this means? It’s the answer to our problems.” Because an equally qualified therapist who didn’t have her seniority could take over Mark’s case without threatening her promotion. Then the bit about the alumnus sank in.

  “Ouch, let go!” Mark’s face contorted.

  Ancy loosened her grip immediately and banished the unsettling thought from her mind. “I’m sorry.” She returned to her work on his hand and whispered, “You can switch to the new therapist, and we can come out in the open.”

  She pulled the curtain halfway around the bench for a little more privacy before starting to work on Mark’s other injuries. These weren’t as serious as the one to his hand, and while she concentrated on deltoidius, trapezius, and rhomboideus major and minor, she couldn’t help but notice Mark’s build on a more superficial level, which was part of the reason she’d pulled the curtain. Half the staff would be drooling over him if they saw his bare chest.

  As it was, all she could manage to say to him when she finished the examination was, “Looks good.”

  The curtain behind her swished open, and the scent of Obsession for Men filled her mind with images from the past.

  Steven Stone. Steve and her, training together, working together. Steve, the only guy who’d ever made an effort to understand her autistic brother and had never made fun of him. Steve and her, in his fossil fuel–burning Mustang….

  Steve… the second and last man who’d walked out of her life. A wall slammed down in her heart.

  It couldn’t be him. She made herself turn around. Her arm brushed the paraffin tub, and liquid wax sloshed over the sides. A distant splash marked its landing on the floor.

  Her heart did that funny flipping thing that made her breath catch in her throat.

  It was him.

  #

  Steve watched Ancy run away—from him?

  He’d returned to Fidelity for one reason. For the job, he’d told his mother, and he meant to be department head no matter who he was up against. But though he was ready for a long-term career commitment, his real goal wasn’t the job. He hadn’t wanted to admit that, even to himself. Because it could be too late.

  The patient, Mark Castellan according to the chart Ancy had left on the bed, stared after her too, an undisguised glint of awareness in his pretty-boy blue eyes.

  Glancing at the chart, Steve noted Mark’s impressive medical history. Either this guy was unbelievably clumsy or he had the hots for his therapist. Steve wouldn’t put it past any red-blooded guy. But he knew Nancy Anne loved her work too much to risk her career for some muscle-bound Lothario. And he knew her work well enough to know she was good at what she did. Maybe better than Steve was. It wasn’t just technical knowledge of physical therapy, Ancy gave part of herself to her patients, making them feel immediately at ease. Steve hadn’t mastered that. It could just be a girl thing. Either way, he was confident they’d work well together.

  Still, they’d looked awfully cozy before, behind the partially drawn curtain. Never mind, he knew her better than that. What had happened between them was surmountable. It had to be.

  It all hung on his becoming head of this department, in this hospital, in this city. Where Ancy was. He was doing it for her.

  “Hey,” Mark said, his gaze turning away from Ancy when the washroom door swung shut behind her lithe form. One more second, and Steve would’ve been ready to push the guy’s eyeballs back into their sockets. “Can you give me a hand with that shirt?” He held up his injured palm.

  A grubby T-shirt lay on the bench. Steve picked it up and recognized the odors wafting from it. Sweat, mostly. A whiff of marijuana smoke. And Ancy’s perfume.

  He initialed the chart. “Not if you want to get back the use of that hand.”

  #

  Maybe running off to hide in the staff washroom wasn’t the bravest thing to do, but it was that or stay in Outpatients and introduce the man she loved to… the man she’d loved. Hardly a situation that would let her show her professional, capable side.

  Not that she still had enough feelings about Steve to make her cause a scene, or give her cold feet. Since she was perched on the back of a toilet in a locked stall, and the chill of the tank cover was seeping into her gluteus maximi, it was really more of a cold bum situation.

  Why was he back? He must have known how uncomfortable it would be for her to work with him. Especially now, when she had to be on her game like she never was before. Maybe that was it. Maybe he wanted to make her as miserable as she’d made him. Which she really did regret, but you couldn’t undo the past. Especially not when you didn’t even know what you’d done wrong!

  “Ancy?” Jen’s voice penetrated the metal partitions. Anyone else would have waited until after work to find out what was wrong, but not Jen. She had this bizarre radar that told her when Ancy needed her right now. Then again, maybe Ancy was just no good at hiding her feelings. “What’s the matter, hon?” Jen swung the stall door open, pocketed the quarter she’d used to jimmy the lock, and folded Ancy into her arms.

  What’s the matter? What wasn’t the matter?

  “Jen, I don’t know what to do,” Ancy wailed, dampening her friend’s shoulder, but Jen didn’t seem to mind.

  “Well, why don’t you march right back out there and say hi to Steve?” Jen loosened her grip on Ancy and dabbed at her wet face with a square of stiff toilet paper. “You’ve moved on with your life, and I’m sure he has too. It’s been a year, after all.” She smiled, and the corners of her dark brown eyes crinkled.

  Jen was right. Steve had surely met someone else by now too. Of course, it was probably only a rebound relationship, but still, it hadn’t taken Ancy long at all to find Mr. Right.

  Oh, it was torture. Jen was closer to her than anyone was. Not telling her best friend about her relationship with Mark was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Keeping it quiet at work didn’t feel right, but if she didn’t, she’d lose her job. She’d almost convinced herself it was just a matter of bad timing. Almost. But Jen and Ancy had told each other everything since they were three years old.

  Everything.

  “Jen, about Mark—”

  “You never mind about Mark.” Jen grinned. “You’ve been spending so much time worrying about him, yo
u haven’t been able to think about what’s really important.”

  “Like?” Like telling her best friend the truth.

  “Like a very nice man is standing out there wondering why you took off as soon as you laid eyes on him.”

  “I know, but I really need to tell you about Mark.” This was it, nothing was going to stop her, and it didn’t matter if she lost her job. A best friend came along just once in a lifetime.

  “You’ve got to stop letting your work interfere with your life.” Jen shook her head. “It would be different if you were dating him, but only a complete idiot would get involved with a patient. Especially here, under Doris’s iron fist.” She chuckled.

  “Dating him.” Ancy’s voice was a faint echo of Jen’s.

  “I’m so glad you’ve got your head screwed on straight.”

  “Yeah.” Suddenly, her decision to reveal her romance didn’t look like such a great idea. “You’d report even your best friend for something like that, wouldn’t you?” She wouldn’t. Would she?

  “You know what they say about honesty.” That was Jen for you. But still, this was Jen, and together they’d figure out a way to deal with it. Ancy opened her mouth, and Jen immediately pressed her fingers over it. “You can’t help every fool who crosses your path, Ancy. Now, get off your rear, go out there, and show Steve everything is okay between the two of you.” She pivoted on her white sneaker heels, leaving Ancy with her thoughts.

  She was twenty-six years old, hiding from her ex-boyfriend. In the bathroom.

  Lovely.