by Oram, Jean
“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,” Harvey 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.
“You’re calling me Dr. Leham again?” Nash whispered to her as he washed his hands in the sink. His shoulders were stiffer and higher than usual.
“Respectfully, yes,” she said with an exasperated glance. “Nothing more.”
“Don’t cross her when she gives that look,” her father warned, then groaned again in pain.
“Dad, Nash isn’t…” Katie floundered for the right thing to say, since technically her dad hadn’t said anything, even though it was all laid out in his tone. And his tone warned Nash as though he was Katie’s man.
“Whatever you say, Katie doll,” Harvey replied.
“Don’t listen to him. The pain has gone to his head.” Katie struggled to busy herself so she’d have an excuse to not meet Nash’s bright, inquisitive, and oh-so-smart-and-delving eyes. She bent over the chart, double-checking the information the intake nurse had written down.
“Whatever you two decide to do with each other, that’s fine by me,” her father continued. “If I die, you have my luck Dr. Leham, as well as my blessing.”
“Thanks, Dad, but that won’t be necessary, we only work together.” She put the chart on the gurney beside him and noticed his red corduroy slacks. “Hey, I thought we threw these pants out last year.”
“Your mother found them.”
“My word. We’ll have to burn them so they can’t come back to haunt you.” They were baggy, worn at the knees, and generally a crime against fashion.
“Please do.”
“I’m going to have to agree, although that garment isn’t going to be the worst thing about your evening, Mr. Reiter,” Nash said. He sat on a stool beside her father and Katie felt her eyes tear up unexpectedly. He was being so kind, gentle, thoughtful, and caring with her dad... Well, heck. The lust had just turned into something else. Something mushier. Something she’d only read about in romance novels. The ones she vehemently denied reading. And if she was going to go full confessional, it was also something in scenes she rewound over and over again in her chick flicks and soap operas. And here she was, all ready to swoon over a doctor as though she was an old-fashioned heroine.
She kind of liked the feeling.
“I think you have acute appendicitis and are in danger of rupture. We will be removing your appendix. Immediately.” Nash paused between each sentence to allow her father to absorb the news.
“Let’s do it. I’m needed home by five.”
“Mr. Reiter, you will need to be under observation after surgery. I don’t
think you are going home tonight.”
“Please?” Harvey reached out, placing a hand on Nash’s. Katie watched the men, feeling as though she should disappear. To see her father in a weak moment was not what she’d come to work for. She came here to be strong, the one in charge, and she wanted to scream at her father to be stronger. “I need to be home. This night is very important to my wife,” he was saying.
“I understand.”
Katie couldn’t help but give Nash a hopeful, pleading look as well. Even though she knew there was no way her dad was going home tonight.
“I’ll see what I can do to ensure Angelica’s party isn’t spoiled, but I can’t make any promises.” Nash turned to Katie, ushering her toward the door. “Scrub up, you’re assisting.”
“But I don’t operate!” Katie backed up and hit the wall behind her.
“You do today. I need Amy for anesthesiology.”
“But she’s just a nurse. There’s no anethesiologist on today, and he’s family. You need more staff.”
“There’s nobody else here and we don’t have time to wait.” Nash was doing that pause-between-sentences thing again. “If I’m bringing someone inexperienced into the operating room, I’m bringing in the brightest.”
“That’s my Katie doll,” Harvey said, groaning as he curled into a ball of agony on the gurney.
* * *
Katie’s hands trembled as she finished prepping her father for laparoscopic surgery. She’d already shaved and cleaned the area where Nash would make his small incisions, and as she worked she kept up a steady stream of banter to keep herself distracted.
Her father was a good man. She hoped she didn’t do something that would cause his untimely…
No, don’t think that way.
This was a standard operation, one Nash could do unassisted, if need be. But he wouldn’t need to. She was here. She knew her stuff. Or at least enough. He would be able to tell her where to be and when. They were a good team, and as he’d said, she was bright. All you needed to do was be in a few operations—which she had in school—and you had a pretty good lay of the land.
Stay out of the way.
Stay clean.
Don’t kill the patient.
So here she was, ready to slice open her father. Well, not Katie herself; her hallway kisser would be doing that. Not that he was hers. Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
She rubbed her face and Nash frowned.
Realizing what she’d done, Katie turned on her heel and left the operating room to scrub up again. That was a stupid, rookie move, touching her face. Way to prove yourself, Katie.
The door swung open and the doctor joined her in the sterile light, probing her with his intense gaze.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, fine.” She finished scrubbing, snapped on new gloves and smiled falsely.
“Your father needs you at your best in there. This appendix could rupture and if it does—”
“Yeah, I know.” Katie brushed past him and his delicious green scrubs, hands up so she’d remember not to touch anything this time. “Hey, Dad!” she said as she entered the operating room once again. “Ready?”
“Sure, sweet pea. I’m glad you’re here.” He reached out to hold her hand, and after hesitating briefly, Katie took his and squeezed. When your father needed you, what was another pair of gloves and a scrub-up anyway?
“I love you, Dad.”
“What? Am I gonna die?” He was lying on his back, his eyes glazed from the painkillers. “Save that for after the operation. Your mother already sobbed all over me.”
Katie laughed, blinking away tears that welled up. “Sorry to break your heart, but I think half her upset was over her party.”
“I’m feeling better now. No more pain. Maybe I could go home?” he said hopefully, as Amy positioned herself at his head. She adjusted tubes, cords, and a million other things Katie didn’t know the first thing about. She hoped Amy knew what she was doing and could do it on her own.
“You have to stay here,” Katie replied. Nash stood to the side, waiting, giving them time. Amy nodded and Katie placed a hand on her father’s forehead to comfort him. “Amy’s going to put you under now, okay? You won’t feel a thing.”
The other nurse began counting down backward.
“It’s not working,” her father said.
“Five, four…”
“I’m still awa—” And he was out. Just like that. Midword.
Katie looked at Amy in awe. “Can you do that to my mother sometime?”
She grinned. “Favorite part of the job. I cut the rector’s wife off in the middle of saying ‘shitake mushroom.’ Guess where she stopped talking.”
“You didn’t.”
“Sure did. She was giving me a hard time for engaging in premarital sex. So, you know. I made her swear.” Amy shrugged.
Nash positioned himself over the patient, his focus narrowing in on the operation he was about to perform.
“Sorry,” Katie said to him, “I’ll be back in a flash.” She left the room and once again repeated her scrubbing up and glove changing routine.
He was waiting, scalpel in hand, when she returned. She fell into an easy rhythm across from him, her earlier emotions washed away by purpose. Save the patient.
The body beneath Nash’s deft fingers was no longer her father. This was a job. A project. A puzzle to fix and sort. A wrong to right.
She didn’t flinch as Nash’s scalpel opened the skin. She clamped, dabbed, suctioned, passed tools, and when she could afford the slight distraction, watched in awe as Nash, concentration turning his expressive blue eyes intensely bright, worked steadily and with a confidence that turned her on. Totally inappropriate. To be scoping out a surgeon, getting a bit flirty on the inside, when her father’s life was in the man’s hands.
But you didn’t get to choose who you fell in lust with, did you?
Chapter 4
“I really think we should celebrate New Year’s Eve more,” Harvey said, his voice still groggy and hoarse from the anesthestic.
“Why is that?” Katie asked. The operation had been a success and they were in the recovery room, monitoring his vitals and ensuring all was well, and continued that way. Her fifty-eight-year-old father was stable, yet a tad loopy.
“You could dress in a diaper. Get one of those horns with the streamers, and drink champagne.”
“I think it’s been done.”
“Let’s join them!” He pulled himself up, his balance off.
“Careful.” Katie gently encouraged him to reposition himself on his back. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
Her father’s eyes widened. “Did Dr. Leham mistake me for a piece of paper? Did he put staples in me?” He dropped the back of his hand across his forehead with a dramatic flourish. “Why didn’t you stop him?”
“You only have internal sutures, Dad. Nothing to worry about. They dissolve.”
“But staples? How do you remove them? You can’t reach inside and unclip them like a bundle of papers. I’ll be setting off the metal detectors in airports. Subject to strip searches. I’ll never be able to leave the country. What if they rust?”
And there was the father she knew. Not listening, and worrying over mostly nothing. Okay, pretty much nothing at all.
“Dad, you don’t have staples. And besides, you don’t fly anywhere. Have you ever even been in a plane?”
“Once.” His eyes closed.
“Are you okay?” Her attention flicked to the monitors. All normal.
“It was ages ago. Your mother and I…” His voice took on a dreamy tone.
“How’s he doing?” Nash asked from the doorway.
“A bit, um…”
“Trippy?” he suggested with a smile.
“Yeah.” She glanced at their patient. He was snoring. Okay, then. Still groggy as well. She made a tick on her chart.
“He was awake for a bit?”
“He was.”
“Coherent?�
�
“I’d say mostly. Yes.”
Nash’s warm hand rested on her shoulder for a moment and Katie couldn’t help but wish he’d let it linger. “You did well in there.”
“Thanks.” Tell me more.
“It couldn’t have been easy, but you were solid. I knew you would be.” Another shoulder squeeze. She felt like a puppy begging for more treats.
“Thanks for helping him,” she replied.
“Of course.”
“Still snowing out there?”
“Roads are closed. Amy was saying Benny overheard people in his restaurant saying they probably won’t open for another twenty-four hours.”
“So we’re stranded.”
He flashed her a brief smile. “No Christmas dinner for you.”
“I have snowshoes.”
“The visibility is nil.” He stood straighter, his face stern.
Katie glanced at her father. She expected protectiveness from him, not Nash. But wow. It was flattering.
She stood taller in turn. “Maybe I have snow goggles.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re teasing me.”
“A little. I don’t have snowshoes.”
He was so close. His eyes were so blue. She wanted to kiss him, and could tell he wanted to kiss her, too. Their desire was surging in the space between them, building as they breathed each other in. If they touched, sparks would fly.
She wanted to lean in, taste him.
“And so that’s how I ended up flying a plane,” her father said matter-of-factly.
Katie drifted back to reality, then jumped away from Nash. She had practically been kissing him, ignoring her ailing father, and was likely sporting a starry-eyed, drooling expression.
Surely her dad had noticed?
Nope. He was staring at the blood-oxygen monitor, holding his breath to make the numbers change.
“Dad, stop that!”
“I want 100 percent, but it’s too hard. I’m trying for zero.” He muttered a curse. “You made me breathe, Katie doll.”
“Breathing is good. You want high numbers. Zero would make Mom very angry.”