Chapter Six
Leo
I’d sweated through my scrubs and was happy to strip out of them at the end of my shift. I had a quick shower and redressed in my khaki pants and button-down shirt.
And breathed a sigh of relief.
A keen nurse in the emergency room had recognized the symptoms of a pulmonary embolism even before the harried doctor had a chance. Luckily, that woman didn’t question anything.
As soon as the patient was diagnosed, she was on my table.
I saved her life.
She was now in recovery—being watched over by the competent Quinton. How did I know he was good at his job? Aside from my own instincts, which were pretty good, about a dozen staff members had assured me he was the best.
As good as his mother, my anesthesiologist had piped up.
Apparently Mrs. Zhang had been a nurse in the hospital for thirty years. She was eligible for retirement, but chose to stay because she loved her job. And everyone here loved her. Nothing but praise for mother and son.
Which made me feel even guiltier about my offhanded comment about lazy nurses. And the blow-job and hand-job debacle.
With Yulia Melnyk in recovery, I’d been able to breathe. The young mother had brought her family from Ukraine to avoid the war. If not for a quick-thinking nurse in the emergency room, she might’ve been a casualty and her three young children would have been motherless.
“Great job.” Dr. Lucia Maroni waved me down as I emerged from the change room.
“Thanks.” Although I’d showered and was no longer sweating, I didn’t dare get any closer.
“Quinton said she’ll be moved to the ICU shortly.”
I nodded. “She’s still having some breathing problems, so I’d prefer to be cautious. Hopefully, tomorrow I can move her to a general ward.” Despite the staff’s best efforts, the ICU was usually noisier and more chaotic than just a regular room.
What I didn’t do, was ask Lucia about Quinton. Scuttlebutt was they were very close friends. Very close friends.
And the way she scrutinized me right now made that entirely plausible.
“I’m going to check on my patient one more time before heading out.”
“Sounds good. See you tomorrow.” With that, she headed off.
I made my way back to recovery.
Quinton stood by Yulia’s gurney, holding her hand. “You did great.” He offered her a wide smile. “And your family have gone home—like you requested. They’ll be back tomorrow.” He caught sight of me.
For just a moment, time stood still.
The feel of him. Of being inside him. Of having him in my mouth. Of being whole again. If only for that one moment—
“Here’s Dr. Rodgers.” Quinton squeezed Yulia’s hand. “Told you he was the best.”
My patient, with an oxygen canula under her nose and pale skin, managed a small smile. Her green eyes, though, still radiated fear. “Thank you.” The words came out as little more than a whisper and her voice was still rough from the endotracheal tube.
“My pleasure. Rest up, please. You’ve got a long recovery ahead of you.” I wasn’t going to sugarcoat this—healing up after having one’s chest opened was a big deal. Pulmonary surgery was serious. The embolism in her lungs had nearly killed her.
I checked all her vital signs as two orderlies approached.
“Take good care of her.”
The young woman with vibrant-red hair and a huge grin offered a toothy smile. “Always do.” She glanced over at Yulia. “We’re going to take you where you can get settled. Feel free to sleep as we move you.” She glanced toward Quinton.
He nodded.
As they organized all the tubes and wires, a sense of peace washed over me.
You did good. My mentor’s voice. Working by her side had been one thing—being on my own in a hospital that was foreign to me was something completely different. Still, everyone here knew what they were doing.
Including Quinton.
Once Yulia was gone, he eyed me.
The room was now empty—all the surgical patients had been moved to the ward or the ICU.
“You’re off?” He pointed to my street clothes.
I nodded.
He gave me a once-over. “You okay?”
I nodded.
“You want to go for a coffee or something?”
His question threw me for a loop. “It would have to be decaf.” Are you nuts? You should be refusing him, not suggesting a healthier option.
“Sounds good. I’m starving. I suspect you haven’t eaten either.”
I shook my head.
“Cool. You live in Mission City, right?”
Did I tell him that? Three nights ago felt like a lifetime. “Uh, yes. Newly moved there.”
“Have you been to Fifties?”
I cocked my head.
“Diner. On the main highway. Mostly food that’s not good for you.” He gave me another once-over. “Even you deserve a cheat day—especially when you just saved a young mother’s life.”
I wasn’t going to take the bait on the cheat day comment.
He was obviously remembering my physique and thinking I must eat crazy healthy.
He wasn’t wrong—I kept myself in tiptop shape so I could get through the long and complicated surgeries.
I took care of myself because I had two young children who depended on me.
They have their other father as well. Don’t forget that. And a soon-to-be new stepfather.
As much as I wanted to hate Archer Chamberlain, he was good for both Gideon and our children.
“A cheat day would be fine. Can you give me the address?” I gestured to him, still wearing his scrubs.
“Yeah.” He rattled off an intersection.
I put it into my maps app and soon a route appeared. “That seems pretty straightforward.”
“It is. I’ll be right behind you.” With that, he sauntered away.
Ensuring his ass jiggled in just that way.
Damn. I’m going to have to watch myself with him. Because I really liked the sass. The bite, though, I could do without.
Within a few minutes, I was headed north across the Mission-Abby bridge, heading toward home.
I had a lovely three-bedroom home north of Mission City downtown, but I wasn’t headed there.
Would’ve been lonely anyway. Being just a few klicks from Gideon and Archer wasn’t quite as hard as I envisioned.
Basically, it took me three minutes to drive to see my kids.
That was worth any discomfort I might endure.
Fifties was literally pulled from the 1950s. The standalone diner sat on the highway—a testament to a bygone era.
I parked my SUV, debated for about ten seconds whether to sit in it and wait, then headed into the restaurant.
A lovely blonde woman with piercing blue eyes approached. “You by yourself?”
“Uh, no. I have a friend joining me. He should be here shortly.” The place wasn’t completely full, but I didn’t want to take up a booth if she was worried.
“Last booth on the left is available. Will I recognize your friend?”
“Uh.” I scratched my chin. “Quinton?” I’m blanking on his last name. What was it? No, wait, I did. I was just fucking tired. “Li.”
She grinned. “Sure, I know Quinton. Everyone knows Quinton. Well, and his mom. I’m Sarabeth, by the way. Can I grab you something to drink?”
I blinked. So much information in just a couple of sentences. “Decaf?”
“Coming right up.” She headed toward the counter and I made my way to the back of the restaurant where a two-seater booth was located.
I sat on the bench facing the door so I could wave Quinton over—in case Sarabeth was busy.
The place was pretty full for late on a Wednesday night.
But then, what did I know? Maybe they were busy every night.
I perused the menu, noting the sheer number of milkshake flavors.
I bet Gideon and Archer bring the kids here. In fact, Gideon probably came here with his grandparents, since it’s been here that long. I tried to guess which flavors the kids might like. Maybe you can bring them here on a day off.
A somewhat comforting thought. My schedule was Monday to Friday with every fourth weekend on call.
If I still had a nanny, I could’ve kept the kids with me.
That didn’t make sense since Gideon was home all day and, after I’d kept the kids away from him for more than a year—with good reason—he was desperate for time with them.
I owed them all that much.
“One decaf coffee. Do you want to order or wait?” Sarabeth placed the cup before me and included a couple of creamers.
I nudged them back toward her. “Just black, thanks.”
“No worries.” She offered a soft smile.
“I’ll, uh, wait.” I tapped the menu. “Plenty of choices.”
“Best burgers in Mission City.” With a wave, she headed off.
I flipped to the page of the menu with the burgers and yeah, okay, plenty of choices.
I scoured the menu for healthier options.
Only to find there weren’t many. Ah well, if I wanted healthy, I could go home and make myself a salad.
Truthfully, I didn’t feel like healthy. I felt like I needed something of substance.
My watch informed me that eight o’clock had come and gone.
Is he going to stand me up?
A text came through. A picture with Gideon—with a kid on each side—and he was reading them a bedtime story. Obviously Archer took the picture.
My lungs seized.
I’d been so busy the last couple of years that I’d rarely made it home for bedtime stories. I’d tried to make up for it when I wasn’t working, but it had never been enough. Seeing Gideon with the kids made that so plainly obvious.
You did the right thing. Gideon needed to see how his actions endangered the kids. He needed time to sort out his shit. He needed—
“You okay?” Quinton slid into the booth across from me. “You’re looking incredibly serious.”
Without thinking, I handed him the phone.
He stared for a few minutes. Slowly, he handed it back. “I thought you said you didn’t have a someone.”
“Shit.” I winced. “I don’t. I was serious when I said I don’t sleep around. That’s my, uh, ex-husband. With our kids.” My voice caught. “We share custody, and he watches them while I work.”
“He must see them a lot, then.”
“Yeah.” I tapped out a heart emoji, then put the phone on the table—face down. “He doesn’t have to send me the photos. He does it because he knows I miss them so damn much. And that I love them even more.”
“I’m sure they know—”
“Do they? All they know is Papa’s hardly around. That he’s always working. I work to provide for them, but is that really enough? Don’t kids just want love?”
“Here’s your tea, Quinton. Are you two ready to order?” Sarabeth put his mug beside his hand, then snagged her notepad and pen.
“I’ll have the waffles with strawberries. Extra whipped cream.” He offered her a broad smile.
“I’ll have the cheeseburger platter. With a Caesar salad.”
We handed her our menus. She smiled and then headed back to the front of the restaurant.
“Of course kids want love. I can tell you love them, and obviously your ex-husband does. Any regrets?”
His incredibly intrusive question caught me off-guard.
I had my cock in his ass about seventy-two hours ago…is anything really off-limits?
“It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
“Some of it’s not mine to tell.”
“I’m good at keeping secrets—so feel free to share as much or as little as you’re comfortable with.”
After a sip of coffee, I took a deep breath. “I’m not an asshole.”
He blinked. “That’s debatable. For this discussion, however, I’ll concede that you’re not always an asshole.”
At that, I smiled. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
He shrugged.
“Something bad happened to Gideon. I wasn’t…
as supportive as I could’ve been.” I blinked.
“The marriage fell apart and—” I swallowed.
“Quinton, I kept him away from our children. I maintain that I had a good reason, but it doesn’t change the fact I hurt everyone—him, the kids, and…
even myself. I had a hard time looking myself in the mirror.
Rightly so. I punished him for something that wasn’t entirely his fault. ”
Quinton sipped his tea. “That’s not a lot for me to work with. I see guilt and remorse. I just don’t know if your highhandedness was merited or not.”
I drew a deep breath. “Let me tell you a story.”