Chapter One Emily
Chapter One
Emily
“Make it stop,” I groaned as my phone rang, my toes hovering over the lip of the bathtub, seconds from dunking in.
The water inside was full of sparkly bubbles from the bath bomb, taunting me with its peach scent and promise of relaxation.
I took my phone off the counter, and a quick glance at the screen showed me I had no choice but to answer. “Hey, it’s Emily.”
“I’m sure I’m the last person you want to hear from right now.”
I laughed at my coworker, a triage nurse for Dr. Kaplan, a concierge doctor I worked for a few times a week, tonight being one of them, so I could actually pay all my bills and save a little each month.
“If I wasn’t about to soak in a much-needed bathtub, I’d probably be a lot happier to hear from you.
” I checked the time on my phone. I had an hour until my on-call shift technically ended. “Whatcha got for me?”
“I’m going to text you an address. The patient’s file will be in the system, should you need to access it. The visit shouldn’t take you too long. Heck, you might even get back before your bathwater gets cold.”
I snorted.
When it came to anything medical, at this hour of the night, nothing ever moved quickly.
“I’ll leave in two minutes,” I told her.
“If you need me, you know how to find me.”
“Sure do.”
I lifted my towel off the closed toilet seat and wrapped it around me before loosening the plug in the tub, mentally waving at the peach-bombed water now going down the drain.
I sighed as I left the bathroom and went into my room to throw on a fresh pair of scrubs.
Once I was dressed, I tied my long blond curls into a high ponytail and grabbed my nursing bag.
After entering the address into my Maps app, noting the distance was a bit too far to walk, I ordered an Uber, the car arriving by the time I got outside my apartment building.
Nestled into the back seat, I pulled up the last text I’d gotten from my best friend and shot her a message.
Me: I’m fully aware that you could be having sex right now (and if you are, a part of me hates you, LOL) and you might not see this until tomorrow morning before your run. I just need to tell you, I miss you. I miss you not being home. I miss not talking to you every second of the day.
Me: And I miss you not being in the bedroom next to mine so I can pop in and bitch about being called in to work an hour before my shift ends, like I was tonight. Currently in the back of an Uber on my way to see a patient. FML.
Maya: I’m getting ready for bed. Don’t worry, sex already happened on the kitchen counter while we were making dinner. Ha!
Me: I really do hate you.
Maya: You Love me.
Maya: I’m sorry you’re off to see a patient. I bet the only thing you want to do is take a bath and go to bed.
Me: In ways only you understand.
Maya: Will it be a hard case?
Me: Don’t know. Haven’t even looked. I just want it to be over with so I can get home and go to bed.
Maya: Text me when you get back, I don’t care what time it is. And see you tomorrow at work.
Me: XOXO
The car came to a stop in front of a large, fancy high-rise, and I held my bag against my side as I got out of the back seat and headed to the entrance. The door to the lobby opened when I was only halfway up the sidewalk, the doorman saying, “Nurse Emily Wren,” while he stared at me.
The scrubs gave away my occupation, and the badge across my breast—if he could even see it from there—showed my name, but it was still a little jarring to be addressed before I even got to the door.
“Yes,” I replied. “I’m Emily.”
Dressed in an all-black suit and tie, he was the size of a linebacker, with a gaze as intense as a hockey goalie. I imagined not even an ant could get past someone with his stature and build.
“We’ve been waiting for you. Would you mind showing me some identification before I escort you to the elevator?”
As soon as I reached him, I pulled out my ID and handed it over.
He studied the photo and returned it. “Follow me, please.”
Since my territory was within the city, I was used to the protocol of high-rise buildings, providing identification and sometimes filling out paperwork—a much different process from the nurses who worked in the suburbs and just had to ring someone’s doorbell.
I assumed he was going to lead me to the bank of elevators to the left, but we walked right by them and down a short hallway, a single elevator sitting at the end.
He hit the button next to it, and as the door slid open, he moved to the side to let me in. “I’ll see you when you come down, Ms. Wren.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
The door closed, and I pulled out my phone to check the patient’s file, something I still hadn’t done.
But as the elevator climbed, my service got worse—a common theme in elevators in this city.
Since the app wouldn’t open, I returned my phone to the pocket of my scrubs and focused on the monitor, the digital screen showing each floor that I passed.
There were only two buttons on the control panel: “L” and “PH.” So I had no idea what floor the penthouse was on, but I figured I had to be getting close.
I was right. Within a few seconds, the door slid open.
But I didn’t step out.
Because a man was standing only inches away on the opposite side, a distance that caught me off guard, his stare moving right through me, especially as I took in his face.
His handsomeness.
Features that were shockingly familiar.
“Ms. Wren, I’m glad you’re here.” His tone was a little frantic. “Follow me—”
“Gavin?”
He was mid-turn and halted at the sound of his name. “Yes.” His eyes narrowed, closing in around the deepest blue irises. Eyes just as stunning as his son’s, proving Gavin’s smile wasn’t the only thing Ben had inherited. “Do I know you?”
I could tell he was raking through his memory, trying to answer that question on his own.
“No. I know you. Well, I don’t really know you, know you. But I know you through Maya, your brother’s girlfriend. It’s . . . oh God, a long story.”
What the hell am I saying?
Do I sound like some NFL groupie who thinks I know him because I follow him online?
That worry quickly faded as the realization of why I was here hit me hard. Dr. Kaplan was a pediatrician. If I had been called to Gavin’s house, that meant . . .
“What’s wrong with Ben? Is he okay?”
He pointed over his shoulder. “He’s in the living room. Come with me.”
Once I stepped out and saw that I was in Gavin’s foyer, the location of the elevator at the end of the private hallway suddenly made sense. I followed behind him as he led me deeper into the condo, doing everything I could to keep my eyes on his back.
But I was failing.
Miserably.
My stare focused on one thing and one thing only.
His ass in those gray sweatpants.
Holy mother, it was perfection.
“I’m not sure how much Dr. Kaplan told you,” Gavin said, my gaze rising as he peered at me over his shoulder, “but I tried taking Ben to the ER, and he wouldn’t have it. I tried to get it out, and he wouldn’t let me touch it. Tonight has been fucking hell.”
Get it out?
Now I wished I’d prepped myself and dug into Ben’s file in the Uber.
“Forgive me, but I didn’t peek at Ben’s chart before I came over. What exactly will I be getting out?”
Due to Gavin’s height and my position behind him, he’d mostly been blocking Ben. But as he moved around the oversize ottoman and took a seat beside his son on the sectional, I saw there was something definitely wrong.
Ben’s hands were covering his face, his eyes red and watery.
“There’s something lodged up his nose,” Gavin informed me.
My last client visit had been running a rehydration IV for a six-year-old with a severe case of the stomach flu. I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be nearly as messy.
“Well, let’s get this thing out.” I drenched my hands in antibacterial gel and slipped on a pair of gloves before I knelt on the floor in front of Ben. “Do you remember me?” I smiled. “I’m Maya’s best friend. You taught me how to ice-skate.”
“Emily!” His hands stayed in place, his voice muffled as it came through his fingers. “The lady that loves strawberry cupcakes like I love vanilla ones!”
Not quite, but I wasn’t going to correct him. So I laughed and said, “Can I take a look at your nose?”
Slowly, he unmasked his face. The width of whatever was up his nose was widening his nostril as far as it would go.
Oh, Ben, what did you do?
I was sure Gavin’s big, beautiful living room had more lights than my entire apartment, but there were only a few lamps on, the soft glow not bright enough to show what was up his nose.
I found a flashlight in my bag and held it in front of Ben, making sure he was comfortable with each step I took. “I’m going to shine this up there”—I pointed at his nose—“and see what we’re dealing with.”
“No!” He re-covered his face. “It’s gonna hurt!”
“This is what happened when I tried to get it out earlier.” Gavin kissed the top of Ben’s head, and I completely melted, turning straight into the heart-eyed emoji. “Which then led to a total breakdown.”
I nodded. “I won’t hurt you, Ben.”
“Daddy said that and it hurted.” He glared at his dad.
“I’ll make a deal with you.” I held his knees. “If I hurt you, I’ll send you an entire box of vanilla cupcakes.” I paused. “How does that sound?”
Ben’s bright-blue eyes widened. “With extra icing? That’s swirled like an ice cream cone? Just like the ones we had at the arena that Uncle J got us?”
I squeezed his knees, knowing I’d won. “No, they’ll be even better than those because they’ll have triple the frosting.”
“Triple?”
“Yep.” I smiled. “I promise.”
“Deal.” His hands dropped.
My heart pounded as soon as I connected eyes with Gavin. “I’ll explain why I know vanilla is his favorite once I get whatever this is out of his nose.”