by Siera London
“I’m going up to the inpatient unit. I’ll be back before clinic starts with a new clinic nurse.” The stout, gray hair woman winced before offering a wavering smile. He should be used to folks having low expectations for him. But after surviving a war and going on to complete his medical degree the snubbing stung more than he cared to admit.
The program allowed active duty Marines and sailors to receive mental health services in civilian outpatient facilities. Although the military worked hard to dispel perceptions, many combat veterans believed seeking mental health care within the military healthcare system ended their careers. The WWR initiative was the first civilian–military mental health collaboration between Queens Bay Naval Hospital and Shell Cove Medical Center.
The WWR was his baby, but delivering a healthy program with sustainable growth was proving more challenging than he ever imagined. The SCMC administrators never questioned the validity of his program, but rather the viability in a civilian healthcare setting. Marines were trained to be authoritative. Unfortunately, that behavior didn’t take a back seat in group therapy. Several of the clinic staff members had requested to be reassigned before the first group of patients completed the program. He would find the right staff mix to help him save the clinic if it killed him.
Gideon released a sigh of frustration. Monday mornings at Shell Cove Medical Center were the equivalent of contracting a chickenpox infection one day a week and this morning was worse than most. He maneuvered through hallways of organized chaos responding to greetings from medical clerks, lab technicians, nurse practitioners, and a few physician colleagues along the way. If he broke stride or made eye contact for more than two seconds the clinic would start late and his patients would suffer the price.
Being a chatty Kathy, or whatever the male counterpart was, maybe a Talking Thomas, meant late appointments, angry patients, and long nights at the office playing catch up. The speed and focus he learned in uniform was applicable in the hospital. The doors to the psychiatric unit were in view when pediatric surgeon, Logan Masters approached with a day’s worth of stubble covering his jaw and chunks of rusty blonde hair standing on end. Had he slept in the last twenty-four hours? Almost made it to the other side. Seeing his friend in distress Gideon came to a halt. The sun shaped replica wall clock with the eclectic blue hospital logo, read seven fifteen.
“Logan?” Gideon waited until the other man’s eyes focused on him.
“Had to pull three slugs from a sixteen year old boy last night. The trauma team found an ounce of Galaxy in his pocket.” At the haunted expression behind those blood shot eyes, Gideon felt the urge to start an impromptu therapy session. Galaxy was a combination club drug with the effects of both ketamine and GHB. Ketamine caused sight and sound distortion, with an out of body experience for the user. The amnesiac side effect meant it was a choice drug in sexual assaults. Gamma-hydroxybutyrate known as GHB on the club scene, could be mixed with alcohol or snorted. In high doses the drug could cause prolonged sleep, coma, or death.
“Was he a user?”
“He didn’t have that sickly, sweet smell the users tend to radiate. He’ll live, only to spend his life behind bars for dealing. It’s the third Galaxy related shooting in four months.” The drug had infiltrated the high schools, suburbia, and the military community. The potent combination coupled with easy access and low cost was both addictive and deadly. The affluence of the waterfront city wasn’t impervious to the drug trafficking activities through the Southeast corridor of Interstate-95. Logan shattered the stereotype of a mild mannered gray hair pediatrician. The man was demanding, stubborn, and a control freak to boot. He wouldn’t respond well if Gideon suggested they talk about his feelings or coping mechanisms.
Instead, he said, “How about we team up against Darwin and Graham this week on the basketball court or the golf course? Your choice.” Gideon and Logan, along with his younger brother Darwin were frequent visitors to the local golf courses and basketball courts. Graham, an obstetrician gynecologist at the SCMC beach location was Logan’s best friend since medical school. Johns Hopkins University graduates, the two men completed their residency program in the Baltimore, Maryland hospital.
“Can’t this week,” Logan replied. “Our engagement party is in two weeks and I want everything perfect for Ava.” Logan’s love for Ava was so intense, Gideon felt its presence whenever he was near either one of the lovebirds.
“How’s the transition from civilian nursing to being a Navy Nurse going for Ava?”
“She’s taken to military service like a sailor to the sea. I on the other hand, feel like a private escort when we’re together and she’s in uniform.” Logan huffed out a laugh, a smile covering his face. Logan liked control. Ava dressed in her naval uniform would definitely shift the balance of power to the public eye.
“You’re the doctor, but she’s the naval officer. That makes you arm candy. Some men have a difficult time when the woman is in a position of authority.” Logan’s smile broadened.
“I’m looking forward to the day when I can say, my wife is ordering me around.”
“Let me know if I can help out.” Logan shook his head, his smile faltered.
“I might take you up on your offer. The rift between Darwin and Rebecca had an adverse effect on Darwin’s disposition. A salt covered slug would be more helpful.” Ouch. It was Gideon’s turn to laugh. Darwin was the best man for the upcoming wedding. The grimace on Logan’s face said he didn’t appreciate Gideon’s laughter.
“Graham would be happy to step up to the plate.”
“That was the old Graham. Yvonne has his head messed up.”
“Who’s Yvonne?”
“Exactly.”
Gideon, confused by Logan’s comment gave him a dude I need more information look. Logan got the message and proceeded with an explanation.
“She’s a doctoral student he met during his assistant professor gig at Howard University. They got close, then she disappeared on him.”
“PhD students are a select, close knit group. He should be able to locate her.”
“Great minds think alike. If she had given him her real name, I would agree with you.”
“That’s messed up.”
“Yes, it is,” Logan chuckled. “You are the only one out of us without trouble of the female variety.” At the reminder of his single status Gideon masked a grimace. When the nightmares allowed him a reprieve to dream, one woman starred in his dreams. There was one woman he wanted to fill his home with their children. A curvy, cocoa beauty with an intelligent wit, and doe eyes. He hadn’t found a woman willing to hitch her wagon to him for the long haul, including the one occupying his dreams. Lina James.
“How goes it with the ladies planning the wedding?” Gideon hadn’t imagined it possible, but Logan’s face darkened at the mention of the upcoming wedding.
“Both our families are planning the reception, except for my mother.”
“Ouch.” If Emma Rice was alive, she would be front and center to see one of her boys’ tie the knot. She’d set up a candlelight vigil outside the honeymoon suite until an ultrasound confirmed a new addition to the Rice family was in the oven. Mothers were not created equal.
“Gideon, her hatred towards Ava is irrational.” The pained expression on the other man’s face made Gideon’s chest tighten. Family was drama. Gideon understood that better than a lot of his colleagues with their traditional childhood. Unlike him, they could probably trace their heritage back to the Mayflower’s pilgrim voyage.
His brother’s phone call two hours earlier, urging Gideon to relinquish the title to his home, was the first chicken pox of the day.
“Let’s get together after I give Ava her special day.”
“You bet.” Logan strode past him and Gideon continued on, family in the forefront of his thoughts. He had informed Ian, the lawyer of the family, Hell’s Angels with grenade launchers would not get him out of his house. He would never give in. Though he no longer wore the uniform, a Marine never surr
endered. His dream of a wife to share his life with and children was poured in the very foundation of that house. His custom designed home was a sharp contrast to the dilapidated shack of his early childhood. He’d created a new life for himself. Known associates and his previous life was a time capsule he’d buried years ago. In some ways, his current existence was similar to wearing a tailor made suit over well-worn jeans and a faded cotton shirt. He looked the part of a respected psychiatrist, but with less finesse, more bulky, and a lot of discomfort.
Of his five brothers, Ian was the one to force the family’s stick together motto, followed by D.Wright, who was the oldest in the bunch. Gideon answered his phone if one of them called, that was enough of a family tie for him. His life was in Shell Cove. The taint of his previous existence was best left in the past. The only remnant he held sacred from his old life was the antique scrolled band around his neck.
Chicken pox number two was a lengthy text message he immediately forwarded to Ian. He wasn’t going to read it today, or any other day in the future. The sender was dead to him. A skeleton recalcitrant to cremation, that refused to remain entombed. A bony shard stuck in a fleshier place than his backside. It had taken him years to block her name and image from taking shape in his mind. When she jetted on him, he never looked back to see where she landed. He wasn’t the kind of man to run behind a woman.
The third chicken pox, he had the power to fix. An inexperienced nurse was assigned to his psychiatric clinic again. Her high-pitched, trembling laughter along with the smiling, rainbow colored daisy scrub top was indication enough that the woman was a poor fit for his patient population. The fact that she kept peering over the check-in desk with wide stretched eyes at each patient like she expected them to attack confirmed his assessment. Her discomfort was not missed by the waiting room occupants.
Considering a significant number of his patients were Marines, fresh from combat zones, they seemed to feed on her anxiety and patrolled the clinic like prison guards. This was the first civilian military collaboration of its kind at SCMC. His proposal received rave reviews, however, identifying staff members comfortable and competent to work with his unique patient population was tenuous at best. He’d lost two psychiatrists to transfer requests and more nurses than he could count.
Pushing through the safety doors, he scanned the inpatient psychiatric unit for the nurse in charge. The blare of ringing phones and the nasal quality of the overhead paging system filled his ears. He approached the nursing station. A stoic woman with thin blonde hair pulled in a severe ponytail was seated at the central monitoring station. She was red faced with an apple shaped body, stuffed into a camel colored knit cotton set.
“I need another nurse assigned to my clinic in twenty minutes.” At the woman’s vacant stare he rephrased his request.
“Good morning,” he tried again. Her expression remained unchanged. “Get another nurse to my clinic in the next twenty minutes.” That got her attention.
“I’m sorry Dr. Rice. There isn’t another nurse available this morning. Check back after lunch.”
“Lunch,” he repeated incredulously. “My clinic ends at two o’clock,” he ground out.
“That’s the best I can do.” Did she actually do something to help? He missed it.
“Call the nurse manager.” Olivia Tran was the new manager at SCMC. No one asked how a woman of Vietnamese descent spoke in a distinct British accent and had a caramel colored complexion. Her penchant for dressing her wafer thin body in men’s clothing to include a necktie and Rockport oxfords, pretty much assured it would be awhile before most women on staff would work up the courage to ask.
A throaty, soulful voice vibrated in his ear. His body tightened in response. He could identify Lina James’ voice through the hum of morning activity. When his gaze landed on the statuesque beauty, he lost sight of everything except her. He stood still, as his brain short-circuited and the pox of the day gave way to the memory of their one kiss. He remembered the taste of her sexy bow shaped lips. The flavors of Georgia peaches, warm brown sugar and an exotic blend of sweetness unique to Lina. Recalling the warmth of her generous breast pressed against his chest, his gut twisted. He craved, dreamt of quenching his thirst with her intoxicating juice.
Blood roared through his veins, fueling his hunger for her. And the feel of those full hips snuggled into his groin had his fingers curling into fists at his side. At his six feet five inches it was a precious gift that Lina fit his height to perfection.
“I will not work in Dr. Harper’s clinic. Find someone else for the position,” he heard her say. His instincts signaled this was the prime opportunity to meet the needs of the clinic, take care of his patients, and get closer to the woman with the sweetest lips he’d ever tasted. Moving around the nurse’s station he narrowed the distance between Lina and Olivia Tran, the nurse manager.
Lina wore a purple silk blouse draped across her generous breasts before tapering to her smaller waist. Black dress slacks rounded to her bottom tastefully, then slimmed over those hips that a man could hold onto for days. Black leather kitten heels with a peep-toe completed her professional, but all-woman ensemble. Her hair was in its customary chignon perched high on the crown of her head. Sexy full-figured pin-up girl. His groin hardened with each passing second.
Both women were focused on their conversation. When he spoke they both startled before turning to face him.
“Lina can work with me.” He received surprised expressions from both women, but then confusion registered in Lina’s dark brown eyes.
“Gideon?” He watched as she licked her full bottom lip. Her tongue charting a slow course of wetness caused the pressure against his straining zipper to increase. His world seemed to quiet looking down into her almond shaped eyes.
“I need you.” The desire to help her overwhelmed him. He breathed in her sweet scent, smiling when he heard her voice hitch. Yeah, she felt the connection between them. He’d found a cure for Monday mornings.
Chapter 3
She should have clubbed Jace over the head before he had the opportunity to cause her more trouble. Gideon Rice was man-fast kryptonite. She wasn’t fooled by his polished psychiatrist persona. He was raw masculine power in dress pants and a lab coat. A body coated in warm sunshine, with waves of sun-kissed brown hair that never touched his collar. Edible panties naughty. She wanted to slide him over her curves in torturous slow motion, nestle him in tight enough to feel her heat, and then wear him all day until he was drenched in her scent. Her Cricket, aka her clitoris did a back flip before taking a position at the top of the high dive. Preparing to take the plunge into Gideon infested waters. Stop it. She broke in a silent rendition of her man-fast chant. Man-fast, man-fast, got to last. His body seemed even bigger standing between her and Olivia. The other woman was unaffected by his presence, while Lina’s pulse pounded in her ears. Daily contact with Gideon was a temptation she hadn’t factored into her successful male detoxification plan.
“Well, RN James you are in high demand this morning.” Olivia’s smile was genuine and Lina gave her the benefit of the doubt. The woman was unaware of Jace’s antics over the past three months. His request had the appearance of a career enhancing move, but Jace only helped himself.
“How is that?” Gideon questioned in his rich baritone. Olivia squared her shoulders, faced Gideon head on, and smiled. Despite her masculine dress, when Olivia smiled her face was radiant.
“One of the psychologists has requested Lina by name for a permanent staff assignment.” Pride was evident in her voice.
“Lina, what’s going on?” Energy charged his words, a flicker of menace flashed in his eyes, then vanished.
The unit manager answered for her.
“I failed to convince her this is a wonderful opportunity.” Lina gave an unladylike grunt.
“Lina thinks otherwise, Ms. Tran.” The rumors about her and Jace must have reached his ears by now. Was he intervening because he felt sympathy for her? She didn’t need
his pity.
“The underground salt mines of Kansas would be more appealing.” His brows drew together. He regarded her with open curiosity.
“I agree with you, Ms. Tran.” Traitor. Lina leveled him with a vicious glare. “An outpatient assignment is an excellent opportunity for RN James,” Gideon continued.
She ignored his conspiratorial wink and broad grin.
“Lina will work with me starting today in the WWR clinic.” Her eyes shot up at him. And up. Gideon offered her a solution. “I’ll have the nurse currently assigned to my clinic report to Dr. Harper immediately.” Lina raised an eyebrow at his directive. He had an air of comfortable authority. A man with a history of giving orders. Less than twenty-four hours into her man-fast and the universe had plopped a warm, honey bun with mesmerizing gray eyes in her path.
“Go on, I’m listening.” She hoped she sounded casual. Those stormy gray eyes fixed on her along with that sexy voice had her mouth watering.
“I need a seasoned psychiatric nurse to work with the pilot program between Shell Cove Medical and the Queens Bay Naval Medical Center.” The specifics of the program she hadn’t been privy to, but Ava worked with the military community health initiative at the treatment facility.
“I’ve heard about the program.” She’d heard the Titanic had less staff jumping ship. “How are you involved with them?” She was interested to know how he was connected with the military community.
“I served in the United States Marine Corps before I went to medical school.” That is not an answer, Doctor.
“Do you have combat experience?” Lina asked. His jaw tightened at her question. Hit a nerve with that one. She could see him grapple for the right words.
“I have an in-depth understanding of the psychological effects of deployment, physical injury, and personal loss on mission readiness.” He’d said a lot, but she heard what he didn’t say. The pain in his eyes said he had experience with injury and loss.
Maybe she should take her chances with Jace. There was zero chance of her falling prey to Jace’s efforts at seduction. With Gideon she was in real danger of her man-fast going down in a fiery blaze, minus the glory. She could accept Jace’s chicanery or face Gideon’s temptation. Was she ready to accept the challenge of rescuing a worthy community health project on the brink of collapse? It was a chance to deliver herself from Jace’s reach at the risk of her professional reputation and career.