Faith scrunched her brows, peeled off her surgical cap, and tossed it into the laundry waste bin just as a pang of sadness rippled through her. She didn’t want to grow old alone, though she wasn’t about to admit that to Patti. How amazing would it be to age with someone as passionate and compassionate as Jake? “Ms. Wilson is smiling now…”
“Duh, she’s not dead and can clearly see Dr. Mitchell is hot.” Patti slid back into her chair. “Maybe ask him to coffee.”
Scowling, even though Patti was right, she rebutted, “I don’t drink coffee. You know that.”
“Okay. Tea, whatever…” Patti flashed both palms in defense then spun to face the counter, settling her fingers on her keyboard. “You’re worth loving, that’s all I’m saying.”
Faith’s last romance had begun with Arabica roast, two sugars, and cream. She didn’t plan on sharing that type of romantic intimacy with another man right off the bat, and she hadn’t touched the stuff in nearly two years since her wedding day fiasco. It was a stupid restriction, but she stuck to her promise.
Patti paused from typing. “You’ll never break The Curse if you don’t take a second chance on love.”
Shuddering, Faith recalled her wedding day disaster. That awful event became clear as the ICU glassed rooms. Through the mission church’s double doors she had entered the sanctuary, beheld the illumination of two-hundred piercing stares, and pieced together the murmurs Steven Silva had changed his mind about loving her. See…disaster.
Moments later, Faith’s bride-to-be glow turned an ashen grey. At least, she assumed the blood drained from her face before she fainted. She woke on the aisle floor, dress bunched around her knees. Her mother crouched beside her, rosy cheeks smeared with mascara, and fanned Faith with a leather-bound bible. She learned later on that very day Steven had mysteriously lost his eyesight. Blind. He’d changed his mind about her or at least loving her. The Curse had punished his betrayal by striking him down.
That was the day she’d sworn off coffee because she’d begun her relationship by sharing a steaming cup of brew with Steven. The night before her wedding, during the rehearsal, she’d actually raised her coffee cup and clinked the porcelain mug with Steven’s to celebrate their future. Now her non-future. She gathered her soft lunch cooler bag and slipped her cell phone inside the side pocket along with her car keys. “I’m going home.”
“Faith.” Jake stood at the counter, his hazel eyes—deep, mysterious pools—connecting with her gaze. “I need to talk to you.”
Tremors bolted through her and she gripped the counter to keep from revealing his unexpected effect on her. Glancing to the side, Faith watched Patti shuffling paperwork, but she knew she was listening. She inhaled an unsteady breath, her eyelids blinking too fast, and hoped he’d say his peace and move on. “What do you need, Doctor?”
“I think you know.” He pushed his forearms across the narrow counter, and the split in his scrubs spread, revealing a smooth chest.
Standing over her, his chest bared for her to see, she felt the urge to reach out and place her hand right over his beating heart, which made no sense whatsoever. He wasn’t interested in her, only her magic, she suspected. “I’m not a mind reader.”
“I think you can see more than you’re letting on. Can we go somewhere private?”
“I’m about to leave.” She frowned apologetically, thinking of feigning a headache. “We can talk on Monday, if that’s okay.”
He slid his arms off the counter and massaged the back of his neck. “This is business, and I’m afraid it can’t wait. But if you’re about to leave, let’s get a cup of coffee.”
Patti cleared her throat and mumbled, “Told you…”
Faith glared at Patti then turned back around. “Coffee’s not business.”
“It is if we have it in the break-room.” The scent of his spiced cologne wafted around the nurses’ hub.
Faith held her breath. She didn’t want to spend time alone with him unless she had to, not with his intoxicating scent and deep voice that vibrated places…
She bolted upright, and the chair rolled back until it collided with the adjoining station. “Sorry, but the break-room is for off-work time.”
“You’re trying to avoid me.” He tapped the counter with an index finger, impatience brewing behind his eyes. “But it won’t work. I want to understand what happened.”
“No, no, I’m not avoiding you.” Suddenly feeling the burn of his gaze hot on her cheeks, she unbuttoned her smock a half-inch. “Really.”
Elbows on the counter, he slid toward her. “Then let’s talk. Now.”
THREE
INSIDE THE SMALL BREAK ROOM, the snack station was sandwiched between a counter, sink, coffee area, and a personnel refrigerator. Two nurses were chatting at the center table, so Jake motioned for Faith to sit at the corner table away from them. “How do you take your coffee?”
She folded her hands in her lap and subtly shook her head. “No coffee, thank you. I have an appointment, and can’t stay long. Ask your questions and then we can go our separate ways.”
As he expected from her, she was still trying to blow him off, and he wasn’t used to women giving him the cold shoulder, especially when Faith had been talkative before the operation. He needed to get to the root of what had happened. “Water, then?”
“If this is a business meeting, can we proceed, Dr. Mitchell? I’m off in ten.”
Anxious to talk, he dismissed the coffee, pulled out the chair, and sat. The private place gave him space to challenge her impatient nature, almost demanding answers from her with his glare. She laced her fingers together and vibrated one leg, as if she was nervous, so he got right to the point. “How did you know where the aneurysm was located?”
She paused, seeming to gather her words.
“You’d have found the problem more quickly if your search for facts hadn’t distracted your intuition.”
Startled by her declaration of the truth, Jake took a moment to check out the entrance to the room. He couldn’t risk anyone that outranked him barging in while he hunted for answers. “You didn’t answer my question.”
She shoved back her chair, ready to stand. “From where I was on the opposite side of the table, I-I could see blood pumping. You saved a woman’s life, why don’t you move on, and enjoy the accolades I’m sure you’ll be getting.”
Jake’s stomach soured at her harsh tone. He didn’t want to upset her further, but his quest for facts always seemed to rub people the wrong way, like he’d done earlier with the chief. Jake rolled his shoulders that tensed with a blanket of unease, because he also knew Faith was lying. “I think there’s more going on that you’re defending. You exchanged a look with the chief. Why?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “This is ridiculous. You’re the expert, and I was simply assisting. I don’t appreciate the interrogation.”
“I can see that, but the fact you’re hypersensitive tells me I’m onto something. So, answer my question, and we’ll be done.”
Another employee entered the room and put change into the snack machine that responded with a clank.
When the employee left, Jake realized she could walk out at any moment, but she hadn’t so he pressed onward. “I need to know what happened in there.”
“We saw the same thing.” Faith pushed to her feet.
No, she can’t go yet. He grabbed her hand to keep her from leaving. But, seeing her glare at his grasp, he released her. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you. Please sit. I’m only trying to understand…”
She took a breath. “We worked together. Saved Tori. That’s all that should matter in this case.” She palmed her heart, and tapped her fingers over the button-down V in her collar. “Saving people is what matters to me, and I can see that’s what matters to you, as well. How about we agree we made a good team in Tori’s case, or just got lucky, and move on?”
She held passion in her eyes, and her curvy body suddenly stiffened with conviction, conviction h
e also held onto. He didn’t want to get involved with someone he couldn’t trust, no matter how damn attractive Faith’s determination to keep information from him was.
During his internship, he’d given his heart to a nurse, Lexi, only to return to an empty apartment and a note telling him she reunited with her ex. Blindsided, he’d found comfort in his work, healing others in lieu of wallowing in her betrayal. That was another reason why he needed to focus on the facts now and keep his attraction hidden. “You’re right. Saving people is top priority. However, I’m trying to figure out how to repeat that miracle you performed in surgery.” He leaned forward. “So, you must tell me.”
She tipped her head and briefly closed her eyes. “Fate stood with us and guided us both. Nothing more…” She glanced toward the empty corner booth and her eyes flashed wide.
“What do you see over there?”
“What do you see?”
He grumbled in frustration, tired of playing games. In regards to his discussion with her, as fierce as his will to hunt for the answer became, he determined she fought as hard to keep something secret.
A stalemate that he needed to stay clear of. If only the way she nibbled on her lip, and her compelling stare, didn’t draw him in further. “I can get fixated on making connections…”
“Don’t. You might not like what you find, at least not with me. Besides, I’ve answered your question. Looks like you’re stuck working with me, regardless of whether you accept the answer was Fate.” She glanced toward the other nurses, whom were still chatting. “As tenacious as Chief Vizcaino is with us working as a team, I’m going to challenge that until I’m placed back in pediatrics.”
That explained why he hadn’t seen her before on his floor. “Pediatrics.” He pressed back in the chair. He’d always wanted to have his own family someday, and this woman kept surprising him. “Tell me more. What other departments have you worked in? Your reason for working here?”
She glanced to the waiting chair and sat, adding a sigh. In that pent-up-energy way a leg moves when a person wants to be anywhere but where they are forced to stay, her leg began to jiggle. “I’m really not that interesting.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
She pulled the stainless steel napkin holder toward her. “I’ve lived here all my life and worked at this hospital for the past six years. For a time in the lab, I studied rhizomes and their healing powers.”
His interest piqued, and he smiled. “Really? I wrote my thesis on neurotoxins found in the iris bulb.” He rubbed his chin, catching the scent of her sweet perfume. “Greek mythology says the goddess Iris is the mother of love.”
“Is that right?” In her grasp, she stilled the napkin holder. “We have a saying in the lab, well, actually it’s Chief’s declaration. He says, ‘The bloom lies in the hands of the propagator’.” She wobbled her shoulders and tipped down her brows, mimicking the chief.
He chuckled. “He’s an interesting man, the chief.”
“That he is. I think his saying means that each of us has the power to change the outcome if we believe in ourselves, that’s where Fate comes in.”
That word, Fate, struck him again. He didn’t believe, but warmth swelled inside his chest, as if all he needed to do was believe and he’d have all the answers, and therefore miracles, he needed to be successful in the OR.
Yeah, right. A mystical force, like Fate, didn’t exist. It couldn’t bring two people together for a common goal. He decided to focus on facts, like what the chief and Faith argued about earlier, so he prodded. “If you’re interested in pediatrics then you’re upset about the move into surgery?”
She quieted her leg. “Not upset. I prefer working with children.”
He scooted his chair forward. “Tell me more about yourself. Your family.”
She smiled, and her eyes sparkled. “You don’t give up, do you?”
That beautiful glow in her cheeks touched someplace deep inside, awakening a feeling—curiosity, perhaps, or compassion. Because though she smiled, in her eyes lay an awareness of something dark.
Yes, he definitely needed to keep away from Faith, before she sucked him into her world so deeply he’d never escape. She’d be the distraction he couldn’t afford, and he needed his wits to figure out what was happening to his patients, he reminded himself.
“I have supportive parents.” Her interjection pulled him out of his thoughts. “The rest, I’m afraid, would only bore you.” She jostled the napkin holder then pressed her finger against a place where the white paper ruffled. “What about your folks?”
“My mom died. Dad couldn’t deal. My aunt raised me.” He huffed at the ease which telling her his past flowed from his lips.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You make me want to tell you everything.” How corny, but somehow she scooted closer.
“Then do. Tell me about you. What made you want to become a neurosurgeon in Whisper Cove of all places?”
An image of his aunt floated to the surface of his mind. “My aunt had a peaceful, tender way that made others gravitate toward her.” Similar to Faith. “Like I said, my aunt raised me. But when I was twelve, she had a stroke. Her recovery was difficult. I knew then I wanted to save others, and she supported me in that direction.”
“She must be very proud of you.”
Heart squeezing, he lowered his head and dropped one hand to finger the ring he kept inside his pocket. His aunt’s band represented the only family he’d had, but also reminded him of the day her treating surgeon had reacted to his gut feeling and failed to save her. That’s why Jake found comfort in facts. Facts had never let him down. Until today.
Faith placed her hand on his extended arm, and she squeezed. “I apologize. I shouldn’t ask such personal questions, but you started it.”
He raised his head to check out her delicate fingers draped over his forearm. That simple gesture made him want to cover her hand with his, to fully feel the comfort a woman like Faith could give. But, at the same time, he couldn’t risk being distracted by feelings he found hard to understand. Harder to recover from when those secrets she held seemed buried.
He eased back his arm. “No reason to be sorry or apologize.” He pushed to stand. “I’ll talk to Chief. See if I can’t get you transferred back to pediatrics.”
At that moment, the chief entered the room. “Nonsense.”
His boisterous voice caught the attention of the other occupants. They picked up their trays and hurried out of the room.
“Communication. Teambuilding is top priority. Part of Full Sail Medical’s Value Statement. And you’re my Dream Team.” He dug in his coat pocket, pulled out two tickets, and handed each of them one. “You need to work as a cohesive unit, permanently.”
“Permanently?” Jake’s muscles flashed ridged as he stared at his ticket then sprang up his head, his eyes widening as if he’d been shocked. “A Zipline Couples Encounter is your answer to testing if I’m a team player?”
Faith gasped, and she jolted to her feet. “Dream Team…Couples Encounter…Now, Chief, you’re going too far.”
The chief pinned Faith with a hard stare that she met, once again palming her hips, as if she meant business.
At the awkward stare-down, Jake cleared his throat. “What’s going on between both of you?”
Chief ignored Jake, just like before in the OR, and spoke directly to her. “Faith, Jake’s livelihood, involving teamwork for the good of the hospital, depends on you.”
Again, she retreated. “Jake’s livelihood doesn’t depend on anyone but him.”
Discomfort lodged inside his chest. “Hey, I’m standing right here. Faith assisted me and did a fine job. That’s exactly the kind of teammate I’m looking for. Someone I can trust. But, I can’t risk relying on her if she’s not committed one-hundred percent. Her desire is to return to pediatrics, and that’s where she should be.”
“Pediatrics has plenty of other staff,” said chief, brushing the idea away, a
s if a piece of trash. “She belongs here, with you. You can’t deny you trusted her just fine. Saved Tori’s life. In the future, you’ll save more lives.”
Cheeks flushing, Faith massaged her face. “Well, there’s no reason for a two-day ‘Encounter’”—she waved her ticket—“when we can appease your requirements by aiding patients here.”
Chief pinned his gaze on his. “Trust me. I’ve sent other teams before. Couples Encounter’s method is proven. A few hours per week spent together in surgery isn’t enough to fuse what could be the Dream Team I’ve been hoping to again offer patients. It’s an exercise to develop trust.”
Damn if he’d accept the chief’s orders on this matter. “Chief, I don’t—”
“Dr. Mitchell, hear me out.” The chief raised his hand. “Faith has a connection with you I’d like to…kindle.”
“Kindle?” Her voice rose until it squeaked.
Jake ground his jaw at her discomfort. He didn’t like a bully and right now chief was playing hardball with more than their careers, but with their personal lives. “Now, wait a minute—”
“Professionally, of course,” Chief added. “For the good of the hospital. Faith, there’s no denying what we both witnessed. Your partnership has the possibility to become binding in a way dreams are made of.”
She balled her hands at her sides and glanced to the empty corner booth. “All of this talk of dreams…Be careful what you wish for...”
Jake split his confused gaze between the two, and that booth. What the hell did she see there? Was there a spirit? Could there have been one inside the OR with them, aiding her and thereby aiding him?
Or had he lost his mind? Something he couldn’t admit. As far as he’d seen, the chief tested boundaries not because he was as harsh as he appeared, but because he prided himself on the hospital working as a solid unit built on trust. Family.
Initially, that was the sole lure to Full Sail Medical. But, there were limits he didn’t want to cross, and that included forcing someone on a team they had no intention of committing to. “Chief, she doesn’t want this. Therefore, neither do I.” He held out his ticket.
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