Page 2 of Worth the Risk

The mom reluctantly stepped back so I could see the cut, but she stayed close. The hovering didn’t bother me. Some nurses hated dealing with parents because they could be so over-the-top in their concern and sometimes pushy about their child’s treatment, but I always saw it as a good thing. I knew what it was like to be a scared kid in a cold hospital with no one to hold my hand and tell me everything would be okay.

Children like Grace didn’t know how lucky they were to have a parent that cared so much.

My eyes shifted to the burn scar on my own forearm. It was fifteen years old and a shiny, pinkish color that covered most of my arm from my wrist to my elbow. There were small round scars that surrounded it from where the hot oil splattered. For just a moment, the scar seemed to tingle, as if the potency of the memory called up a physical reaction.

It was a terrible experience, made much worse by the fact that I was alone in the hospital afterward. My father didn’t even leave work at his finance company to come take me himself. He sent his driver for me. It was a lovely old nurse that stayed by my side as I underwent treatment. She did her best to help me through the fear and pain, and she didn’t know it, but she was the reason that I decided to become a nurse myself. I wanted to help people the way that she helped me.

As I used saline-soaked gauze to wipe away the trickling blood that started to flow from Grace’s wound once the towel was removed, I noticed her mom taking her hand out of the corner of my eye. She murmured soft words of comfort to her daughter, and I hated that a part of me felt jealous in that moment.

I’d never had a parent care so much.

Making quick work of applying the topical numbing cream, I taped a fresh piece of gauze over the laceration and stepped back. “I’m going to give that gel time to work so that you won’t feel a thing while the doctor stitches you up. Be back soon.”

I slipped out of the room. Knowing that the numbing would start to take effect in about twenty minutes, I popped into another patient’s room to briefly check in on him. He was sleeping, probably a good thing since he came in with intense back pain. The pain medication had kicked in and allowed him to rest.

After that, I made my way down the hallway, scanning the area for Ford. I found him standing outside of the chief of medicine’s office, speaking to the man himself.

Dr. Serrano had been at this hospital for over thirty years, something that he liked to brag about whenever he had the opportunity. He lived and breathed for this hospital. Everyone knew he didn’t have a family or anything in his life besides his job, but that was by choice. Dr. Serrano was a serious, intense man, and he expected his staff to be dedicated to the job above all else.

Of course, it didn’t always work out that way. Most of us had lives outside of the hospital.

“I’m still considering who to recommend for the director of residency position,” Dr. Serrano was saying as I approached.

That job was important to Ford, and I knew he’d be great at it. It was the whole reason that we’d kept our relationship a secret for so long. Ford feared that if the hospital board knew he was sleeping with a nurse in the department where he worked, it would look unprofessional and lessen his chances of landing the promotion.

“We still have a few weeks until the board meets to make its decision,” Dr. Serrano continued. “The decision will be made by a vote among all members, but I have to say, my word carries a lot of weight with them.”

Ford smiled, and I didn’t think anyone else would notice the way it didn’t quite reach his eyes, but I did. I knew how much he hated the politics of trying to get ahead in a hospital. He didn’t want to kiss up to the admins and turn on the charm for the board members. He just wanted to make a difference in people’s lives, and he knew that the best way to do that was to obtain a position of authority here.

“Excuse me, Dr. Whitmore,” I cut in before Dr. Serrano could throw his weight around a little more. “I’ve got a juvenile patient with a gaping forehead laceration waiting in room four.”

Ford was already stepping away from the chief of medicine before I even finished my sentence. He mumbled a quick apology to Dr. Serrano before falling into step beside me.

We were both focused on work, walking with a foot of space between us and talking about the patient as we headed down the hallway together, but there was a flutter in my chest that always seemed to show up when he was near. Just being around him was intoxicating, like being filled with an electric warmth that made breathing a little easier.

When we reached the room where Grace and her mom were waiting, I introduced him and stood off to the side while he assessed the young patient and reassured the mom that there were no signs of a concussion, just as I thought. The numbing gel had taken effect, and I stood by his side as he stitched the wound, handing him tools from the tray as needed.

His hands were steady and sure, and it didn’t take long for him to close the cut and apply a fresh bandage over it. As he worked, I could see tension leaving the mom’s body, and she was even smiling by the time she left the room with her daughter tucked under her arm. Another nurse came to escort them to the desk area where Grace would receive discharge papers, and I stayed behind to clean up the room so that we could bring in another patient soon. There were always people waiting to be seen in the ER.

For that reason, I expected Ford to move along to the next patient right away. I’d just stripped the linens off the bed and stuffed them into the soiled laundry bag when I heard the click of the door shutting, but I sensed that I wasn’t alone in the room. Straightening, I turned and saw Ford lingering in the room.

A shiver ran down my spine as his mouth curled into a devastatingly sexy grin. He took a step closer, his eyes trailing down my body and back up again.

“You look beautiful today,” he said. His voice was different in this moment than it had been while speaking with the patient and her mother. Softer, more intimate.

“Really?” I chuckled as I gestured to my burgundy scrubs. They weren’t exactly designed for seduction.

But the heated look in Ford’s eyes suggested otherwise.

“Yeah, really. Don’t forget that I know what you look like underneath the scrubs.”

He was right in front of me now, his hand tipping my chin up as his lips pressed against mine. As always, my body melted into him, lips parting as I lost myself in a rush of affection. His hands came to my hips, squeezing in a way that reminded me of what we did on his couch just last night. Naked, sweaty bodies moving against each other…

“…need to order an X-ray for the patient in room seven…”

The snippet of conversation filtered through the closed door, and I recognized the voice as belonging to another doctor. He didn’t have a reason to come into this room, but Ford broke our kiss and stepped away anyway, as if reacting to the reminder that we weren’t truly alone.

For me, the way he put distance between us was a reminder of everything that bothered me about our relationship. When I agreed to hide it, we were just beginning to explore feelings of attraction. It made sense to me not to let our nosy coworkers know about it until we figured out if there was more to it than physical desire. By the time we knew that we cared deeply about each other, Ford had heard that the director of residency was planning to retire.