Unexpected Love Story

by Natasha Madison

  Chapter Nine

  Crystal

  I buckle my seat belt and take off for Hailey’s house. It’s been one week since ‘the outing,’ and she hasn’t collapsed in a heaping pile. All in all, I call it a success.

  Walking into the house, I toss my purse on the couch and walk to the kitchen to find Blake, Hailey, her parents, and Nanny. “Hey, you guys.” I make my way to the coffeemaker, pouring myself a nice hot cup. “Whatcha looking at?” I ask as I pick up a picture of a house. The house looks cute and quaint. I flip through the pictures, taking in the backyard, and see another swing, but then I see the ocean and the calmness of it.

  “This is so pretty.”

  Blake fills me in on what was just discussed. “That is where Hailey is going to, as Nanny says, ‘find herself.’” He uses his fingers to air quote. I nod my head, my eyes never leaving the paper as I take in the swing in the front. I sip my coffee while sitting at the table when Hailey mentions selling everything. I look up to find Nanny’s eyes on me. We share a secret nod, and I know what I need to do. Nanny leaves when we sit down to eat.

  I walk out of the house and make my way right to Nanny’s house. It’s no surprise she already has the coffee ready.

  “Come in,” Nanny yells when she hears me knock. I walk into the living room, ignoring all the pictures of the family, and find her in the kitchen. “Oh, you came?” She smirks at me.

  “You think her leaving her family and her support system is a good idea?” I ask her, crossing my arms over my chest as I think about Hailey leaving here.

  “She isn’t leaving all her support system; she is still going to have you.” She pours us coffee. “And the answer is yes, I think her leaving will help her because staying here sure isn’t fucking doing anything.” She hands me the cup of coffee.

  “Who says I’m going with her?” I raise my eyebrows at her.

  “You and her are glue … where one goes, the other goes. Even if Eric was alive and you left, she would follow you.”

  “I have a job here,” I point out, and she just shoos me with her hand. “I’m not just going to sit by her side all day.”

  She gets up and walks to the counter, picking up a business card. “This is the number to Dr. George Walker, Delores’s son. He runs a practice out there with his son.” Nanny tells me about her friend Delores, who she has known since she was in her twenties. I flip the card in my hand as she finishes. “Give him a call.”

  I nod my head, thinking that if worse comes to worse, I can always see if anyone in the area is looking for an RN. When I leave Nanny’s, I make my way home, but the decision is already made for me regardless of what happens when I call Dr. Walker.

  The next morning, I walk into the emergency room with a letter in my hand. It comes as a surprise to everyone, but when they hear my reasons, they understand. When the chief of surgery found out, he offered me more pay to work with him. I smiled at him and turned him down, and then asked him for a reference letter.

  So now here I am about to do my final interview with Dr. Walker.

  My palms are wet as I press the Skype button.

  The Skype rings, and two seconds later, the screen says it’s connecting.

  The man who comes on is an older gentleman. “Hello there.” His smile lights up the screen.

  “Hello, Dr. Walker.” I smile and try not to stutter.

  “I have about ten minutes until my next patient, but I don’t think this is going to last long,” he says, and my heart starts to beat uncontrollably. What does that mean? “I got your resume, but I have to say what impressed me most was the letters of recommendations.”

  I try not to smile too much, but I think I fail.

  “I love what I do.” I smile. “Not many people can say they wake up and smile when they go to work, but I’m one of those people.”

  “You got recommendations from every single specialist in your hospital. And they were all outstanding. Your chief of surgery, Dr. Mawlings, offered to buy me a very expensive bottle of scotch if I picked someone else.”

  I throw my head back and laugh. “Shepard has been trying to get me to join his team since I started there.” I shrug my shoulders. “But I couldn’t leave the emergency room.”

  “At this point, I think I should be the one trying to woo you.” He laughs. “We would love to add you to the team. The job is yours if you want it.”

  I cheer on the inside. “I would love it.”

  “Perfect,” he says. “Why don’t we plan on you starting three weeks from now?”

  “That is perfect. I already gave notice, so I could have even started in two weeks.”

  “There is no rush,” he says as his phone buzzes. “I have to go, but I look forward to seeing you when you come to town.”

  “I can’t wait to see what the Carolinas have in store for me.”

  “We look forward to showing you the beauty of it.”

  Once we say goodbye, I get up and head to my room to dress in my scrubs. When I walk into the emergency room, there is a spring in my step. “Seven days, peeps,” I say. “Four more days and it’s mic drop.” I smile at Dawn, laughing when she flips me the bird.

  “We are going to throw you a going away party.” She leans back, yelling, “Don’t make any plans on Tuesday.” I nod as I head into the break room to put my lunch bag away. Dawn walks into the room. “What the hell are we going to do without you here?” she asks.

  “Don’t you fucking cry.” I point at her, seeing the tears forming in her eyes. “I will cut you,” I tell her. “And I’m a nurse, so I know exactly where to cut you so you bleed out and feel lots of pain.” I blink away my own tears.

  For the past year, it has been the two of us during every single shift. So many come and go, but Dawn, she was my go-to. Stuck, quiet, needed a break, or just wanted to step away for a second, she knew, and she gave me what I needed. I knew her also, her strengths, fear, quirks, and especially, what pissed her off, and I never, ever crossed her when she was pissed. The day flies by with a couple of gunshot victims and always that one drunk when we do rock, paper, scissors to decide who will take the case. She always does paper; I don’t even know if she realizes she does.

  When things finally settle down, I sit down at the nurses’ station to finish all the files before shift change. “So you’re really doing this?” Dawn asks from her side.

  “Yup,” I answer, not looking up. “I know she would do the same thing for me, no questions asked.” Dawn doesn’t say anything; she just hums her acquiescence.

  The week flies by, and there is so much to do. I had to sublease my apartment, pack it all up, and help Hailey with her purge of Eric or, as she is calling it, ‘shit for sale.’ When Tuesday night rolls around, I’m more than ready to cut loose. I’ve already sent my stuff to the house, and I have one suitcase left. I had nothing to wear tonight, so I ran out at the last minute.

  I shower, toweling down with a small tea towel. I pull up the light pink skirt, zipping the gold zipper in the back. I grab the strapless white top, which zips up the back also. The loose chiffon outer layer floats, leaving the white material underneath snug to my body. I pair the outfit with pink open-toe suede booties. My makeup is minimal; I plan to drink heavily tonight and having to deal with taking it off when I get home will be one less thing for me to do. I grab a shawl and make my way downstairs when I hear the honk of the Uber.

  Walking out of the apartment building, I see Dawn waiting for me. “Holy shit, someone is getting lucky tonight.” She snaps her fingers.

  “One can hope.” I wink at her, ducking to get into the car. We make it to the bar where we have spent many nights closing it down. It’s where the hospital staff always goes. It’s where every birthday, retirement, and going away party takes place. Pulling up, we see that the place is already busting at the seams. “Holy shit, are all these people for me?” I joke as I get out of the car and we make our way inside. If it looked packed outside, it’s only a glimpse of what is inside. The four c
orners are almost all full.

  “Crystal.” I hear my name yelled from someone to the side and see half of the nursing staff of the emergency room all around a high-top round table. I grab Dawn’s hand and lead us to the table. “Look at you,” Harriet, the head nurse, says.

  “Who ordered shots?” asks Patrick, the head of surgery, carrying a tray full of shots. “Look at you?” he says.

  I roll my eyes. “Jesus, do I look that bad in scrubs?” I say. Picking up a shot of tequila, I down it, hissing at the burning down my throat. “Why is this place so packed?”

  “Medical convention,” Patrick tells me as soon as he swallows the shot.

  Over the next hour, half the ER nurses and doctors show up, and we’ve taken over five more tables. After a couple of more shots, my smile is plastered on my face as people come over to me and tell me how much they are going to miss me. The people keep coming in and some leave, some linger. The music begins to play, so we throw our hands in the air and swing our hips.

  “I’m going to the restroom.” I giggle to Dawn, who nods her head at me. Making my way through the crowd of people around the bar, I bend my head to watch my feet. Walking into the dim hallway, I smash into a man who has just come out of the bathroom. His arm automatically flies to wrap around my waist and bring me against him. His smell intoxicates me further, and I giggle as I try not to fall. I put my head back, looking up at him, and my smile gets even bigger. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” I look up into his blue eyes, and he smiles down at me.

  “It’s my fault.” His voice comes out deep. “I should have looked right and left when I walked out of the bathroom.”

  I throw my head back and laugh. “I get it. Like crossing the street.”

  He loosens his hold on me, and I step back, finally taking him in. His hair is cut short on the side, the top longer. His t-shirt looks like he is bulging out of it, especially his biceps. Ink decorates both arms to his wrists. His jaw looks chiseled, his nose perfect. I don’t know if it’s the booze talking or not, but this man is fucking perfect. “Are you here for the convention?” I ask him, and he nods.

  “Are you?” He puts his hands in his back pockets.

  “No, I’m a nurse over at the hospital,” I tell him as someone walks by me and nudges me with their shoulder, sending me flying into him again. “Sorry.”

  “You’ve fallen into my lap twice now, and I still don’t know your name.” He smiles at me, holding my arms in his hands.

  “I’m Jane,” I tell him, hoping he gets the joke. “Jane Doe.” This time, he is the one throwing his head back and laughing.

  “Well, Jane Doe, I’m John.” He holds out his hand, and I take it in my hand, shaking it. “John Doe.”

  “I think we’re related somehow.” I smile at him, and this time, his eyes go serious.

  “I really fucking hope not.” He takes a deep breath.

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” I say, dropping his hand. “Excuse me.” I look down and then back over my shoulder once I walk away to see him staring at me. “Enjoying the view?”

  “More than you fucking know.” He smiles, and I push open the bathroom door, whispering, “Holy shit,” the whole time.

  Chapter Ten

  Gabe

  I watch Jane Doe walk into the bathroom, thinking this night just got a whole lot better.

  When we first arrived an hour ago, even with a large crowd I spotted her. My gaze found her right away, and then she moved her hips, and I just couldn’t look away. It was as if fate handed her to me when she smashed into me.

  I look toward the bar and then back at the bathroom door as I list the pros and cons of staying and leaving in my head. Everything tells me this is a bad idea, but I go with my gut, which brings me back to the women’s bathroom door. I lean against the wall, facing the door, one foot on the wall, and both hands in my pockets. I haven’t done this in forever. I was never a one-night stand kind of guy, but something tells me not to walk away.

  The door swings open, and there she stands. If I thought she was good looking through the crowds of people in the dim light, then nothing compares to her standing in the fully lit bathroom. Her blond hair falls down her back and her blue eyes shine with mischief. Her neck bare and white gives me the sudden urge to bite her. “You waiting for me?” she asks, walking to me.

  “I wanted to know if maybe you wanted to grab a drink.” Her citrus smell hits me in the stomach. Fresh and clean. “I was thinking,” I say, tracing my finger down her cheek, “we could maybe go over our family tree.”

  Her hands go straight to my waist as she leans into me. “Let’s go have that drink.” She winks at me, walking away from me as I follow her to the bar. “What are you having?” She turns to ask me.

  “Scotch on the rocks,” I yell to the bartender, who then looks at her. “I’ll have the same,” she says.

  “So.” She leans in, the noise of the bar drowning out her voice. The bartender returns with the two scotches and places them in front of us.

  “Put it on my tab,” I tell him, and he nods his head. I pick up the glass, holding it in front of me. “To long-lost family.”

  She picks up her glass. “To living in the moment.” I clink her glass in a toast, then she drinks a sip and looks at me. “Are you married?”

  I shake my head. “Nope. Single. You?” I ask her. Even though I want to do this, I don’t want to cross that line.

  “Always single.” She smiles, taking another sip, this time longer. “So, John”—she looks at me, stepping into my space—“there is just one more question that needs answering.”

  I down the scotch, not even hissing when it burns my throat to my chest and then straight down to my stomach. I place the glass on the bar. “Do you want to go someplace where it’s quiet?” I ask her. She nods and smiles at me. It’s a smile that I’m not sure I ever want to see go away. It’s a smile that lights up her whole face. I don’t know if it’s the booze or not, but I’m not ready for it to be over just yet.

  “I just have to tell my friends I’m leaving.” She points behind her and goes to tell them something while I close up the tab. A couple of women look over her shoulder, waving their hands at me, and one high-fives her. She shakes her head, laughing, while she walks back to me. “So where to?” she asks me. I grab her hand and walk outside to the building next door. “Well, that wasn’t too far.”

  I guide her to the elevator and press the button standing next to her. I’m nervous; I haven’t had sex with someone new since Bethany and that feels like forever ago. I start thinking about different moves when the elevator dings, and the doors open. She steps in before me. “What floor?” she asks.

  “Twenty-seven,” I say, and she presses the button. She leans on the wall while I lean on the other across from her. “I don’t usually do this.”

  The little minx smiles at me. “A one-night stand or sex?”

  I smile at her. “Very funny. A one-night stand.”

  She stands straight and walks over to me. Her hands go straight to my chest, causing my heart to beat faster. “Well, then”—she inches closer, her hands moving to my neck, and my hands going to her waist, pulling her close to me, “let me start then.”

  She goes on her tippy toes, and something in me takes over. I turn her so she is the one against the wall now. My hand runs over her bare neck, coming up to cup her chin. “I’m the one driving this car,” I tell her right before I hear her breath hitch and my mouth crashes into hers. I taste the scotch on her when her hand touches my cheek, and I angle my head to get more of her. To get all of her. The elevator dings, letting us know we are on our floor. Our lips separate from each other as our chests rise and fall rapidly. I hold out my hand, and she places hers in mine. As soon as our fingers intertwine, I pull her out of the elevator before the doors shut us in. She laughs as she follows me, and I make the mistake of looking over at her, seeing her with her hair going everywhere, the smile on her face, and the twinkle in her ey
es. I make sure to remember it all.

  I scan my card, opening the door and pushing her against it when it closes. This time, she groans when I press her to the back of the door. My hands go down to grab her ass. “Fuck,” I hiss when she arches her back and tries to push into me. My cock’s harder than it’s ever been; either that or the restriction of my jeans makes it seem that way. I lean my head down to suck her neck, her hands frantic on my shoulders, my back, and finally, my hair. She tries to spread her legs, but the tight skirt restricts them. So she pushes me from her neck, and when I swoop down to take her mouth again, she turns and her ass hits the desk. I frantically pull up her shirt, her hands diving under my shirt, the need to feel each other almost too much for words. Our mouths never leave each other, my hands going from the back of her thighs to her tits, then all the way to her neck. She rips the shirt off my body, our mouths leaving when she pulls it over my head. Tossing it over my shoulder, I reach for the zipper on the back of her top. A zipper that taunted me while she walked away from me. The sound of the zipper echoes through the whole room as she sits there on the desk with her legs spread open and me standing between them. My mouth wants to taste her more, so I lean down, taking her mouth again. The zipper slides down, her top falling on the desk when I get to the bottom, and I know I have to see her. My hands roam up her back, feeling her skin get goose bumps as she groans into my mouth and pushes her chest into mine. I leave her mouth, looking down at her perfect tits. Everything about this woman is perfect. I take a nipple into my mouth as my hand squeezes the other one; her nipple pebbles in my mouth as I bite down, and her head goes back. “I need.”

  Her hands reach for my waist, straight to the button on my pants. She unsnaps it while I switch breasts, the sound of the zipper drowned out by our moaning and panting. Going straight for my cock, she fists it in her hand, and this time I moan.

  She pushes me off her. Getting on her knees, she drags my pants off my hips. Never missing a beat, she sucks my cock to the back of her throat. My hips move on their own, and my eyes close for a moment as I take in the heat and wetness of her mouth. Fuck, I love her mouth on me, and I love that she loves doing it more. She moans louder than I do when she takes me deeper and deeper.