Page 20 of One Baby Daddy
“Nope, they pretty much have the same response as you.”
She places her fork in the cake box and leans back on her hands, looking out to the valley below, the sun barely peeking past the tree line. She grows quiet, just observing.
What’s going through that pretty mind of hers? Is she recounting interaction with her patients today? Are they always on her mind? If I were in her position, I think it would be hard to separate my personal life with work. Hell, I have a hard time doing that with hockey. I bring the game into my personal life all the time, letting it affect me, letting it drive me crazy. Does she have the same problem?
“I don’t know how you do it,” I say, breaking the silence. “Taking on patient after patient, treating them and moving on to the next, staying cognizant enough to help heal people.” I shake my head in awe. “It’s admirable.”
“Thank you.” Shifting forward, she moves the cake to the side and snuggles close into my side, draping my arm over her shoulder, her head landing in the crook of my arm.
The fresh scent of her shampoo hits me first, then the faint scent of sugar, followed by the light hum of her content body. It’s a small move, innocent really, but for some reason, it feels like an anvil-sized weight was placed on my heart with every little sigh of content she takes.
It’s comfortable.
It’s easy.
It’s new but also feels right.
Adalyn wrapped up in my arms, pressed close against me, like she was made specifically for me.
She is an unexpected surprise that has me wondering how can I make sure to see this girl as many times as possible before the season starts again, before the crazy re-enters my life.
Because just like the other night at Racer’s, no part of me feels ready to say goodbye. I simply want to stay.
Chapter Five
ADALYN
“So who was that guy the other day?” Samantha asks as she sits down in a squeaky chair next to me. Samantha and I are usually on the same nursing rotation, thankfully. It helps to have a good friend to rely on when the emergency room starts to take its toll.
“Uh, that was Hayden.” I squint looking at the chart I’m entering into the computer, trying to read Dr. Fallon’s handwriting.
“Hayden, huh? Is he someone special?” She leans back in her chair, making the hinges squeak even louder.
“He’s a friend,” I answer, even though I know we might be more than friends. At least that’s where I think we’re headed. That’s what it feels like, especially after the other night.
Once we finished eating the cake, we didn’t spend much more time outside because it was beginning to get cold, and I was totally beat from the day. My yawns hinted at my fatigue. I helped Hayden pack up and offered him his sweatshirt, but he told me to keep it for now. And I did, no argument from me. After a warm hug, Hayden helped me into my car, shut my door, and sent me on my way with a tap to the top of my car. The entire drive home, I pressed my nose to the fabric of his sweatshirt, taking in his scent, remembering what it was like to be held closely to him. Hard body, strong and powerful, yet soft and gentle when he carefully held me, his thumb stroking along my arm leisurely. It was sweet, a moment I wish I was still in right now, instead of listening to the incessant beeping of machines around me.
And when I woke up at five thirty this morning to get ready for my seven-o’clock shift, I was greeted by a text from him that told me to have a good day.
Simple, yet comforting.
Nursing isn’t an easy job, and to see that little text . . . it put a smile on my face before I had to walk through these sterile halls.
“Just a friend?”
I nod, trying to decipher a word on the chart in front of me. What the hell is that? It looks like a W with something scribbled after it. I don’t even know where to begin with that. “Just a friend.”
“So why is he coming toward us right now with a huge smile on his face and a bag in hand?” My head snaps up to find Hayden striding in our direction, purpose in his every step. Worn jeans clinging to his thick quads, Brawlers T-shirt stretched across his broad pecs, and a New York Yankees baseball cap propped on his head, darkening his eyes way past dangerous.
When he reaches the nurses desk, he places the bag on the counter, and leans forward, his forearms propping him up, hands clasped together.
“Hi, Adalyn.” The way my name rolls off his tongue so effortlessly, so deep and sultry, sends chills down my spine.
Caught off guard, I sit taller and say, “Hayden, hey. What are you doing here?”
He nods at the brown bag next to him. “Brought you some lunch, wasn’t sure if you had a few minutes to spare. If not, I’ll just leave this here for you to pick at when you get a chance.”
“She’s about ready for her lunch break actually,” Samantha cuts in and holds out her hand in greeting. “Hi. I’m Samantha.”
