More Than A Feeling (The Boston Five Series #3)

by Poppy J. Anderson

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Also by Poppy J. Anderson

  Newsletter

  A Romance Novel

  More than a feeling

  Poppy J. Anderson

  Boston 5

  (Book 3)

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, businesses, organizations, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  More than a feeling

  Copyright © 2016 by Poppy J. Anderson

  Cover design by Catrin Sommer – rauschgold.com

  Edited by Annie Cosby

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Publication: February 2016

  poppyj.anderson@googlemail.com

  www.poppyjanderson.com

  Book Description

  As the only girl in a family with five children, Kayleigh Fitzpatrick learned to assert herself at a young age, since she didn't want to end up tied to the stake. It’s paid off for her, as these days, she stands her ground as a physician in a chaotic emergency room, dealing with all kinds of emergencies—like rioting patients trying to attack helpless nurses.

  However, as the unmarried only daughter of a very Catholic mother, she is sick of listening to the constant admonition to start looking for a husband and make babies. The problem is, Kayleigh knows that her take-charge, tomboyish attitude and her hot temper tend to frighten off most men, and she doesn't want to change for anyone because she simply likes herself the way she is.

  The only thing she really needs right now is a date for her brother Shane's wedding, having bragged in front of all her brothers that she wouldn't have a problem finding a companion for the special occasion. When her plan doesn't quite work out, and she could already hear the jeers and mockery of her merciless siblings, help arrives from someone she did not have on her radar at all.

  For all the Kayleighs out there!

  Stay as wild, cheeky, chaotic, and unique as you are, and just be yourselves.

  Chapter 1

  “Kayleigh? I … I need your help over here!”

  Kayleigh Fitzpatrick rolled her eyes, ate the last bite of her apple, and threw the core into the trash can next to the front desk of the ER. Then, still chewing, she made her way over to treatment room number two, from which loud screaming could be heard. Judging from the muffled noises and nervous screeching, Gary, the medical student, was having problems dressing the wounds of the wasted homeless man who had been brought in with a large gash on his forehead and a half-empty bottle of vodka under his arm.

  It was surprisingly quiet for a Saturday night, considered that it was early May and the city’s weirdos were slowly waking up from their hibernation, like Murphy, the homeless guy, who kept coming back to the ER on a regular basis. Of course, excessive alcohol consumption, bar brawls and accidents were in season year-round, day after day, week after week, and month after month. But then there were those cases that only came in at special times of the year.

  In the spring, it was motorcycle people who were rusty after the winter break and had bad accidents with their bikes.

  In the summer, Kayleigh’s treatment rooms overflowed with teenagers who twisted their ankles in far-too-high heels, or puked all over their tuxedos and prom dresses with alcohol poisoning.

  Come Halloween, all the crazy people seemed to be out in full force, roaming the streets as witches and dominatrixes, while each Thanksgiving proved anew that men were horribly clumsy with carving knives. Last year, Kayleigh had had five different patients who’d managed to cut off one or several of their own fingers instead of carving up the lovingly prepared turkeys. Holidays in general were precarious times. The Christmas season was actually the worst of all, when the head of the family tended to fall off the roof while trying to set up decorations, or slipped and fell on ice-covered sidewalks, all dressed up as Santa and slightly intoxicated. Then there were the family disputes and scuffles, which had, in the past, gone so far as to bring in a screaming great-uncle with a fork sticking from his eyeball.

  No matter the season, one thing was certain: You needed nerves of steel if you wanted to work in the ER, especially in the part of Boston mainly inhabited by citizens of Irish extraction. Thanks to her own family Kayleigh knew all too well that Americans of Irish descent tended to drink a little too much, hit the roof too quickly, and resolve their disputes with their fists. Afterwards, you might find the brawlers arm in arm at the counter of a favorite bar, belting out songs and reassuring each other and everyone else how much they liked each other, but Kayleigh was the one who had to treat their bruises and fractures.

  “Kayleigh!” Gary’s shrill voice pleaded as she entered the room and saw Murphy fighting off Gary’s attempts to take the vodka bottle from him. The helpless medical student was hopping from one foot to the other like an excited puppy, and it was obvious he had no clue what to do, while Murphy raved and ranted at him, baring his teeth—or where his teeth would have been had he had any left.

  Suppressing a giggle, Kayleigh rolled her eyes and emitted a loud whistle, stepping toward the treatment table, nodding at Brenda, the nurse on duty, and pushing Gary aside.

  “What is going on here?” she demanded, trying to hide her amusement as she shook her head at Murphy, who gripped the half-empty bottle even tighter. “Hello, Murphy, old man.”

  “Dr. Fitzpatrick,” Murphy slurred merrily in greeting. He stank so badly that Kayleigh would have fainted if she hadn’t been used to this kind of odor. The sad truth was that Murphy was not even the biggest stinker she had treated here.

  He pointed at his bottle and graced her with a toothless grin. “You want a sip?”

  She clicked her tongue and shook her head while grabbing a pair of latex gloves. “Not today, but thanks for asking.”

  Murphy burped loudly and nodded in Gary’s direction with a disgusted expression. The young student had taken position behind Kayleigh and was looking over her shoulder now. “I’d share with you any day, Dr. Fitzpatrick, but not with the pup behind you! He tried to take away my bottle!”

  “Oh,” she sighed, slipping on the gloves and generously overlooking the fact that Gary, who was easily a head taller than her, was hiding behind her. “This is a medical student, Murphy. He’s probably not even allowed to drink yet. The last time you were here, didn’t we agree you would come in for a shower once a week?”

  Murphy winked at her, not the least ashamed or intimidated. “Only if you administer the shower, Dr. Fitzpatrick.”

  “You wish!” she retorted with a chuckle. “Do you really think you’d enjoy me washing you down with a garden hose set on cold?” She leaned forward to take a closer look at Murphy’s wound. “How did you manage to hurt yourself this time, Murphy?”

  He looked at her with a thoughtful expression, marred only by the glassy look of his eyes. “No idea.”

  Kayleigh figured he must have gotten into an argument with
another homeless person again. She’d known him since she started working in the ER four years ago. He was a nice enough guy but rarely sober. “Let me take a look.”

  “Can I get some pain meds, Dr. Fitzpatrick?”

  She wanted to roll her eyes again at the euphoric tone of his voice, but instead, with great deliberation, she said, “The only shot you’ll get from me is the one against tetanus, Murphy.”

  Without listening to the man’s protest, she asked Gary, “Now how would you treat this patient, Gary?”

  The student, who had come suspiciously close, sputtered, “Uh … uh … I’d staple the wound.”

  Kayleigh exchanged a meaningful glance with Brenda across Murphy’s prostrate body, before shoving Gary backward so he wasn’t crowding her as much. “Are you sure that’s the first step, Gary?”

  “Uh …”

  Murphy had begun to sing a drinking song, but Brenda’s contemptuous snort made even him look up in concerned irritation.

  Kayleigh had the feeling Gary was close to bursting into tears, so she murmured as patiently as she could, “You start dressing a wound by disinfecting it, Gary. You should always begin with grabbing an antiseptic and spraying it on the wound to disinfect it.”

  “Okay,” the student said sheepishly. “Do you want me to anesthetize the spot first?”

  Kayleigh made a face and crossed her arms in front of her chest. She looked down at Murphy, who was grinning up at her, no teeth, but drunk out of his mind. In this condition, he probably wouldn’t even have noticed if they amputated his entire foot without drugging him. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” she said dryly. “Instead of stapling the wound, please sew it together with a neat Donati suture.” She nodded at Brenda. “We need a five-zero thread. And Murphy will get another tetanus shot.”

  “Does that mean this lady’s gonna stab a needle in my ass?” Murphy actually seemed thrilled by the prospect.

  Kayleigh nodded and stepped aside, taking off the disposable gloves and throwing them into the garbage bin reserved for them. Feigning excitement, she added, “And that’s not all, Murphy, afterwards Gary will accompany you to the showers and make sure your fresh stitches don’t get wet.”

  She ignored Gary’s agonized sigh and threw him a glare telling him he better get to work quickly now. Watching him clumsily deal with Murphy’s open wound made her wonder if she had ever been as awkward and doltish at her job. She was pretty certain that that had never been the case. Meanwhile, Murphy held on to his precious bottle. Gary should’ve been glad this was a patient who wouldn’t mind having a scar that wouldn’t be pretty.

  Brenda’s snorts and sighs, which accompanied each of Gary’s movements, told Kayleigh she wasn’t the only one shaking her head over the young man’s work. Kayleigh could relate to all her colleagues in the ER who were mildly to severely annoyed with Gary, since he’d been unable to learn how to file medical records alphabetically, put in a neat IV, or even take a patient’s temperature correctly, and his internship had started five months ago. Most of the time, the young man, with his puppy-dog eyes and a blush on his cheeks, was in somebody’s way, getting on the nerves of the nursing staff especially. If his clumsiness hadn’t been of the cute and well-meaning kind, one of the nurses would probably have attacked him with an IV stand by now. The outright sweetness of his awkward ways had saved the blond student so far, and they tended to pinch his rosy cheeks or pat his head instead of punishing him. Most of them, anyway. Brenda was the exception. She had been working in the ER for thirty years. She was immune to puppy-dog eyes and dimples.

  With an inward sigh, Kayleigh admitted to herself that Gary really was like a puppy. It was hard to scream at a newborn ball of fur, even when they peed on the living room floor or chewed your shoes. Of course, as far as she knew, Gary was potty-trained and had never munched on any of her shoes, either, but he kept reminding her of the small beagle her neighbor had gotten when she was about eight years old. You could hardly be mad at Gary or the beagle for any of his behavior. The medical director and Gary’s supervising instructor, however, didn’t see it that way, as Kayleigh had been told during their latest meeting. They were of the opinion that the young student simply wasn’t made for the stressful life of an emergency physician. They recommended that he work in a quiet general practice, where he could bandage the ankles of nice old ladies who had fallen, while they fed him cookies and milk.

  You had to be rather tough to work in an ER—you couldn’t be squeamish or shy away from close physical contact with all manner of people—and you had to be hands-on, take-charge, and no-frills. Judging from these requirements, Kayleigh was born to be an emergency physician. She had grown up with four brothers, and her grandfather, her uncles, her father, and her brothers were all either firefighters or cops. She had spent half her childhood roaming the fire department where her late father had worked, and she was the only one in the ER who knew how to disarm and calm rioting patients. Thanks to her second-oldest brother, Shane, she knew all the methods to disable and pin a recalcitrant person. She had been infamous for her right hook ever since sixth grade and had a quicker mouth than Eddie Murphy. Unlike Gary, she and the ER were a perfect match.

  That fact was driven home again half an hour later when she was standing by the front desk filling in some medical records. Suddenly, a displeased patient began arguing with her colleague Stephanie. He was demanding a sick note even though all he had was a slight scratch on his hand. Kayleigh looked up from her paperwork with a frown to see her colleague hardly restraining the fuming man.

  “Listen, Mr. Miller—”

  “No, you listen to me now! How am I supposed to go to work if I’m injured?” He waved his hand, which was adorned with a tiny band-aid.

  Kayleigh snapped the file shut. “Oh,” she said loudly, “if you don’t want to walk, you could always take the bus, sir.”

  The furious patient was taken aback for a moment, but then he pointed to his hand with an exaggerated flourish. “The wound could get infected, and then I’d lose my hand!”

  “Oh, right,” Kayleigh snorted sarcastically. “You could also be blinded by a sty, and lose your wiener from too much use.”

  “I don’t think that’s funny at all,” he complained, while Stephanie had to turn away to hide her amusement.

  Pretending to be serious now, Kayleigh nodded at the man, grabbed his “injured” hand, and frowned heavily as she inspected it. “Oh my, just as I feared. It would be best if we amputated your hand right away, so you don’t contract sepsis and lose your entire arm, or perish from this devastating wound.”

  The man growled, tore his hand from her grip, and walked out cursing.

  “Oh, Kayleigh,” Stephanie guffawed. “I could have written him a sick note for one day.”

  Kayleigh shook her head with a scornful pout. “No way! If I stayed at home every time I got a scratch, I wouldn’t have to work another day in my life.”

  “Please, no. We’re going to need you here for a good while longer.” Stephanie grabbed one of the medical record files and pulled a pen from the front pocket of her scrubs. Once again, Kayleigh marveled at Stephanie’s ability to look immaculate after a twenty-four-hour shift, while she knew she was coming across as deranged and scruffy by comparison. She had the feeling that her dark hair was always unruly and lank, that the circles under her eyes were huge and dark, and that she needed a shower before she smelled as bad as Murphy.

  Normally, she didn’t care that she wasn’t as made up as her sister-in-law, Hayden, for example, who loved wearing pretty dresses, coiffing her hair, and always having perfectly trimmed and painted nails. But when Kayleigh looked up and met the gaze of her brother’s partner, who was talking to one of her coworkers and raised his hand in a casual greeting when he noticed her, she regretted that she wasn’t one of the women who had a knack for nice dresses, neat hair, and filed nails.

  Alec Anderson was the type of guy who drew the gazes of women of all age groups. All he had to do was cr
ack a smile, and they all started gasping and hyperventilating. He’d been Shane’s partner for almost three years now, and he was a really charming man who felt very much at home at her brother’s place. Which, in turn, drove Kayleigh mad, because she’d been secretly in love with him for—well—almost three years now.

  Yes, she knew it was ridiculous for a grown-up woman like her to get shy and tongue-tied before any man. She had never let anyone or anything intimidate her like that. And of course it wasn’t as if she spent her days and nights crying on her couch, pining for Alec Anderson and slowly wasting away with unrequited love. She went out, enjoyed herself, and went on dates whenever she damn well pleased. Yet, unfailingly, her pulse started to race whenever she was face to face with Alec, and she felt a sharp pang of jealousy every time Shane told her about his partner’s new girlfriends.

  It seemed that Alec got around a lot, if you believed her brother’s tales. The fact that Alec kept going out with different women drove her crazy because in all this time it had never occurred to him to ask her out. An outside observer could have surmised that Alec didn’t ask her out because he didn’t want to jeopardize the relationship he had with his partner, who was her older brother, after all. Kayleigh, however, knew better. Right when he and Shane had become partners, Alec had asked Hayden out, during a time when Kayleigh’s oldest brother, Heath, had broken up with the poor girl.

  No, Alec Anderson had a different reason for not seeing Kayleigh as girlfriend material: She simply wasn’t his type.

  Unfortunately, all the women Alec went out with were doll-like creatures, always perfectly styled, coiffed, and made up, and not above playing the little housewife for him and catering to his every need.

  At Shane’s engagement party a few months ago, Alec had shown up with a tiny, petite blonde who Kayleigh might even have liked if she hadn’t followed Alec around with an exaggerated look of hero worship on her cute little face and an obvious desire to bring him his slippers as he sat down in an armchair. While Kayleigh had stood with her younger brothers, ranting loudly about some referee decision during the last Patriots game against the New York Titans, Alec’s companion had spent the entire evening with a pasted-on sugary smile, but completely mute. Plus, her dress had been pressed and wrinkle-free, while Kayleigh had worn faded jeans and a Boston Red Sox jersey.