by Hope Navarre
“No bother.”
“Just wanted to tell you I’m all moved in at Brian’s. So, don’t look for me at the Oceanside in the morning.”
“How’d you do it without a truck?”
“Didn’t take long with the few belongings I have. Used Brian’s work truck. Nice guy.”
Cassie couldn’t help but smile. All her friends were wonderful. “You two will like each other. He’s a surfer, as well.”
She could practically hear him smiling through the phone as he said, “Discovered that already. He’s taking me to some surf holes next week. I have a wetsuit. I’m sure the water here isn’t much colder than the Pacific.”
“See? You’re practically a native already.”
He laughed. “Will you mind picking me up from here?”
“Not at all. It’s not far. I’ll be there at seven-thirty.”
“Great. And Cassie?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks again. You’ve helped make the transition easy.”
For heaven’s sake. Why was this guy so very easy to talk with, as if they’d had conversations like this all their lives? She had to get a grip. He was a coworker. “My pleasure, Peter. That’s what we do for friends around here. See you in the morning.”
* * *
NO SOONER HAD she pulled into Peter’s driveway the next morning than he came out the front door and locked it, looking content like a man exiting his castle. She couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in scrubs over a long-sleeved T-shirt, sunglasses perched on the top of his head, backpack over one shoulder and a grin a mile wide.
When he opened the passenger side door, she was grinning as big as he was. “How was your first night?”
“The couch makes a lumpy bed, but what a great place. Thank you again for introducing me to Brian.”
“I am so glad you like it.”
He buckled his seat belt, then rested his gaze on the two coffee cups in the holders. “Do I smell coffee?”
She handed him one. “You do. Didn’t know how you like it so it’s black. Sugar and half-and-half is in the bag if you need it.”
“Black is perfect.” He grabbed her hand after taking the cup from her, kissed her knuckles. “You’re an angel.”
A thrill ran up her arm. She laughed. “Thought you’d never notice.”
They drove in companionable silence. The morning talk-radio show filled the air with nonsense while the two commentators bantered over the latest celebrity faux pas.
Cassie sipped her coffee. Again, the sense of complete comfort in his company made it easy for her to say whatever was on her mind. “You nervous about your first day?”
Peter shook his head. “Not in the least. Can’t wait to get started.”
She pulled into the employee parking lot. “Monday morning. Always a circus.”
He hoisted his backpack. “I’m ready.”
She smiled. “Me, too. Be sure to text me if I can help you in any way.”
He opened his door. “Will do. Same here.”
Rachel waved to them from the nurses’ station as they came down the hallway. “Good morning! Welcome, Peter.”
He held both arms open, coffee in one hand. “I’m finally here as an official employee.”
Rachel grinned. “Well, it’s about time. Since you were so brilliant to get your orientation out of the way last week, stash your gear so we can go over last night’s charts and get to work.”
Cassie led him to the nurses’ locker area. She was looking forward to doing rounds with him to get a feel for his style. When they returned to the nurses’ station, Rachel held up a hand. “Cassie. I got a call from HR. You are scheduled for your annual physical at eight-thirty.”
How did she mess up her schedule? “I thought the physical was for tomorrow?”
Rachel shook her head. “Not according to HR. The morning rush hasn’t started yet, so why don’t you go up now? Anna is in back. We can handle the department.” She linked an arm through Peter’s. “I’ll take Peter with me this morning. You’ve already monopolized our newest hunk’s time since he arrived.”
Peter grinned at Cassie’s dropped jaw. OMG, she was way too transparent if he caught her distress at Rachel snagging him from her.
He patted her arm. “You go. I’m sure Rachel will take good care of me.”
* * *
WORKING TOGETHER MADE the week fly by. Mike had called Peter to say his radiator was being held up and the truck wouldn’t be ready until next week. Cassie welcomed the opportunity to continue carpooling with Peter. They’d slipped into an easy routine of Cassie picking him up, sharing coffee if it was the morning shift—heck, sharing coffee if it was the graveyard shift. Peter had no problem blending in with the staff. She and Doc, Brenda, Rachel and the others all took their turn confirming their findings with each other. Peter Chapman was an excellent score for the emergency department.
They’d been into two hours of Friday’s afternoon shift when Cassie found Peter charting a woman in one of the treatment rooms. The woman’s right hand was red and swollen. Puncture marks in the skin looked raw and infected. Her husband was doing the talking.
“She never listens to me. The seal came up to the boat and she held a fish out to it. I told her she would get bitten.”
Cassie stepped next to Peter. His smile was like an instant intimate connection between them. She listened as the woman explained what had happened, inspecting the woman’s hand as Peter charted her words, but all she could feel was Peter’s presence. His body heat was like a warm blanket in the room; his easy manner and attention to the patient like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold night. Peter’s mannerisms showed how he was confident, professional, assuring and, darn it all, sweet.
A wave of satisfaction filled her. She suspected working with him was going to be key in her attraction to him, and she was right. Her traitorous mind couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to hold his hand. Or be so comfortable with him that being wrapped in his arms would be second nature.
Peter seemed to sense her thoughts. Giving her a curious glance, he laid a hand on her forearm. His touch immediately pulled her back to the moment. “This is Cassie. She’s lived here her whole life. I’m sure she’s seen a seal bite.”
Cassie jumped right in. “Actually, I haven’t. As far as I know, we’ve never treated a seal bite. When did this happen?”
The woman answered, “Yesterday.” She seemed to perk up. “Really? I’m a first?”
Her husband shook his head. “Oh, here we go. Now this is going to be a trophy wound.”
Cassie and Peter laughed at the same time. Peter finished notating the woman’s chart. “Dr. Bailey will be by shortly.”
The woman frowned. “What’s going to happen?”
“Looks like cellulitis from the bite.” He tapped her chart. “You’re allergic to penicillin, so we’ll have to see what antibiotic Dr. Bailey will prescribe. You’ll have the treatment by IV, so plan to stay for a few hours. Make yourself comfortable. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Cassie watched the husband nod in agreement. The woman’s face grew calm as Peter spoke in his low, reassuring voice. His natural, soothing charm, coupled with his knowledge of procedure, made a perfect antidote for putting patients at ease. A weight of concern rose from her chest like a soap bubble on the breeze. She liked his style. They were going to be able to work together just fine.
The woman said, “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to your eye?”
Peter flashed the grin that was rapidly stealing away Cassie’s heart. “I’m new here and discovered the hard way that deer share the roads in Montauk.” He pointed to his stitches. “I got these trying not to hit two.”
The woman shook her head. “We learned that when we first started vacationing
here. Driving fast is not an option in Montauk. Too much wildlife.”
Peter shot a quick, neutral glance at Cassie but she read right through the laughter in his voice. “So I’ve learned.”
Tucking the woman’s chart in the holder outside the door, he led Cassie down the hall, stopping between rooms.
She gestured to the room behind them. “You did very well in there. I think we can safely say you’ll fit right in.”
“It’s going to be tricky. You became a distraction the moment you walked in.”
If he only knew. She had to keep it cool between them. “Are you starting to flirt again?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Sorry. It’s your perfume.”
She frowned. “I’m not wearing perfume.”
“Wow. Then I’m in trouble. You smell great.”
She pushed him down the hall to get them moving. “Nurse Chapman, perhaps you’re becoming delirious.”
He laughed. “No. I’m good. I’m just happy to be here.” Peter glanced up and down the momentarily empty hallway before leaning close to her. He whispered, “Coming here is the best decision I’ve made, Cassie. I love this job, especially because of you. I want to spend every minute I can with you.”
Spend every minute I can with you... Her mind didn’t want to register that statement while her heart just about hammered out of her chest. This guy operated like a steamroller, but something inside her wanted him to do this. Her heart told her she wanted to fall for him, but her gut wouldn’t let her. Not yet. This man was all too new.
She tapped his chest. “You’re very sweet, but please stop speaking like that.” She cleared her throat. “Peter, we’ve known each other for less than two weeks.”
He stood rock-still. Even his bruised eye wasn’t enough to distract from the sincerity in his gaze. “I like you, Cassie. I’ll give you space, but I want to go on record as wanting to get to know you better.”
“As friends?”
“Call it whatever you want.”
She understood his attraction. Heaven knew that when he drove past her the morning of his accident, slowing his truck to look at her; his eyes, that grin, even the surfboards betraying his love of the ocean had her thinking she’d just spotted an interesting man. In that brief moment he passed her, she’d even noticed his hands on the steering wheel. Strong. Tanned. Capable. This was moving way too fast.
“Peter...”
The overhead pager signaled: code trauma. Now.
Someone’s life was in danger and all available help was required in the trauma room. Not even thinking, Cassie grabbed Peter’s hand. “Let’s go!”
* * *
IF THE THOUGHT of falling head-over-heels for Peter seemed difficult before the trauma room, the idea took full bloom by the time they finished. A young woman, unconscious and severely wounded from an accident on one of those high-speed motorcycles, had the trauma room hopping. Her face bled from deep cuts, both arms appeared broken and her hair was riddled with shards of glass. Blood from her legs and abdomen stained the white blanket.
While listening to the EMT reporting her stats, Doc and two residents, aided by Cassie, Peter, Rachel and two more nurses, worked in sync removing her clothing and bringing in the necessary equipment to scan her internal organs.
Her boyfriend was in the adjoining room. In worse condition.
Cassie’s first attempt to place an IV catheter in the girl’s arm failed because the veins were weak. She finally placed two in veins in the other arm. Doc called for blood and medications. Her pressure was too low, her breathing too shallow. He’d need to intubate her.
Peter and Cassie hardly had to speak as they worked in tandem with the doctors. Peter’s ability to anticipate each step seemed instinctual and fluid and right on. He worked the life-saving dance with Cassie and the others as if he’d been doing it for years.
A couple of hours later, when the patients were wheeled to recovery, everyone felt confident that the two victims would survive. With broken bones, cuts and internal damage, physical therapy and plastic surgery would be in their futures. They were lucky to be alive.
Peter and Cassie sat across the table in the break room sipping coffee with another nurse who had been in the trauma room. Peter shook his head. “I can’t believe the girl’s parents let her ride on the back of a dangerous machine.”
The nurse said, “How she thought denims and a bike helmet were good protection at high speed boggles the mind.”
“Or how her boyfriend figured speeding on a blind curve was a good idea,” Cassie added.
“Don’t they know how precious life is?”
Cassie met Peter’s gaze, his question riddled with concern. “Maybe we should start a motorcycle awareness campaign and speak in the high schools.”
“That’s a great idea. If posters showing accident victims could impact even a few kids, we’ll have done our job.”
“Let’s talk to Doc about that one. I’ll bet my mother would help, too,” Cassie said.
Peter looked as if he were about to reach for her hand. She reached for her coffee instead. “You did great in Trauma, Peter.”
The other nurse added, “Like you’ve always worked with us.”
The concern Cassie carried over their compatibility as coworkers slid off her shoulders like ice from a roof in a thaw. She put down her coffee cup and reached for Peter’s hand. “Bravo, Nurse Chapman.”
He wrapped his in hers, a grateful smile on his face. “Just doing my job, ma’am.”
* * *
DOC INTERCEPTED THEM on the way out the door after their shift. “Great week, you two.”
Cassie smiled. It sure was. “Looks like Nurse Chapman has made the grade.”
He clapped Peter on the shoulder. “So I can untether you two from working the same shifts now.”
Cassie’s heart sank, and she felt like a fool. “Absolutely. Peter can fly solo anytime.”
“I’m away this weekend. Taking the girls into Manhattan. Carl is on duty. I see you took the weekend off, as well.”
Cassie nodded. “We both worked a double shift this week.”
Peter held up a hand. “I’m not complaining, but I have yet to buy a bed. Some time off will give me a chance to settle in.”
“Well deserved, I’m sure. See you both next week.”
Driving in the Jeep, Cassie glanced over at Peter. “How are you going to haul a bed without your truck?”
“I can always have it delivered.” He hesitated. “Or I can wait on the bed and do what I really want to do tomorrow.”
“What’s that?”
“Ask you to give me a personal tour of Montauk.”
* * *
WHEN CASSIE PULLED into Peter’s driveway the next morning, she still wrestled with her mixed feelings about meeting him. They’d planned for ten o’clock, and she was punctual, as usual. She’d hardly slept at all last night because she couldn’t decide if she’d made a mistake agreeing to spend the day with him. Sure, they called a truce on the flirting, but it didn’t stop the feelings that bombarded her when she met his gaze, or laughed at his jokes.
Peter was turning out to be a really nice guy. Lots of character wrapped up in a well-built, boy next door with attitude and charm.
She balanced two cups of coffee as she maneuvered the car door shut with her hips. She was looking forward to introducing Peter to the local sights. She loved showing off Montauk. Did it all the time with visitors. So, she couldn’t quite figure out why her heart was pounding. She laughed at herself. All she had to do was keep it friendly. Period. Yet, when he stepped onto his porch as she walked up, and she saw the way he watched her, she felt like a million dollars.
She laughed to herself. Maybe his interest was because she carried coffees.
Dressed in a black T-shirt and
snug jeans that sat low on his hips, his hair damp and sun-streaked, falling haphazardly around his head, he possessed a natural sensuality that he didn’t even seem aware he had. She swallowed hard as she realized his bruised eye made him look vulnerable, which tugged mercilessly at her inner Florence Nightingale. Without even trying, Peter Chapman had her full attention. No ignoring that fact. He reached for the coffees and Cassie experienced a sense of relief that he hadn’t reached for her.
“I’m so grateful you brought these. I still have to buy a coffeepot. Come in for a minute. I’m just finishing up with an important email.”
He cleared a space on the dining-room table where his laptop was open and offered her a chair. He slid into his seat and shot her a smile although concern lit his eyes.
“I’m checking on my mom.”
So, he had a mom. “Is she okay?”
He focused on the computer screen. “She is now.”
A dodged answer. Cassie let that one slide as she lifted the lid from her coffee. Curious as she was now, she knew she’d pry the information from him sooner or later. Since they were still learning about each other, sooner would have to wait. Rather than stare at Peter, as she wanted to do, she stood and paced slowly around the open rooms.
The kitchen was nice and orderly. A basket on the counter held fruit and tomatoes. The bathroom door was ajar in the hallway. Remnants of warm moisture from his recent shower still permeated the air with the scent of soap. The folded blankets topped with two pillows on the couch gave her the feeling that she was invading his personal space, but his welcoming and relaxed demeanor erased the thought. She suspected he found her company as easy as she found his.
Had it only been two weeks since she fished him out of his truck unconscious and bleeding?
“Have your sutures dissolved?”
He pulled his focus from the computer. She must have gone too long without dating because her entire body responded to his simple gaze. Unbelievable. Did he have this effect on all women?
He shook his head. “Almost gone. Can you handle looking at my black eye?”
Was he kidding? The fact that he even questioned his appeal seemed absurd. She grinned. “I’m pretty sure I can handle anything about you.”