Chapter 2 Isla
ISLA
Clipboard in hand, I wince when I remember what I said to the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my life.
Shoulder-length blond hair, intelligent crystal blue eyes, bluer than I’ve ever seen, framed in thick dark lashes, and tanned skin.
Even sitting down, I can tell that he’s tall and built.
His biceps are straining against his white V-neck T-shirt, while his broad shoulders are the perfect perch for a woman to sit on.
And I called him Daddy.
To his face.
Fuck my life.
I knew I shouldn’t have listened to all those BDSM audiobooks this month.
He’s here with his daughter, Isla. Shut it down and be professional.
It’s been a few days since that night, so hopefully he’s forgotten all about our initial meeting.
First impressions don’t matter that much, right?
I’ve never dated a patient, and I don’t intend on breaking that rule now. Plus, a man who looks like that?
Trouble.
He’s way out of my league.
Definitely younger than me.
A hell of a lot more attractive and fitter than me.
Oh, and he just had a baby. I saw the note that said the mother had left the hospital without a backward glance, and he’s the one raising the baby alone.
I don’t know how a woman could do that, but I’m here to help, not judge. And just because the baby’s mother left, doesn’t mean he’s single.
“Hello, how’s the little angel today?” I say to him as I step into the room. He lifts his head and smiles.
“She’s good. I was wondering when I was going to see you again,” he rasps, running a hand through his hair.
“And why is that?” I ask, keeping my voice even.
He smirks, but says nothing. He just studies me with that intelligent gaze before returning his attention to his daughter.
I read the doctor’s notes and smile. “I see Dr. James came in to see you both. Do you want to hold her?” I ask, and he lifts those blue eyes to mine as he nods.
“Skin-to-skin contact is so important,” I murmur, washing and drying my hands thoroughly. I clear my throat. “So if you want to remove your T-shirt, I can lay her on your chest.”
It’s a normal suggestion I’d make, but it feels a little different this time.
Without missing a beat, he stands to his full height. He’s tall. I try to look away, I really do, but when he grips his T-shirt at his nape and reveals a smooth and ripped chest, indented abs, and a trail of blond hair pointing down the middle of his jeans, my mouth is suddenly dry.
My pussy, not so much.
If the other nurses see this, he’s going to cause a riot. Some of them might come to work for free.
When our eyes lock and hold, I don’t miss the flicker of amusement there. He slowly sits back down, carefully lifting his daughter and resting her on his chest. He looks down at her, and the gentle look in his eyes makes me feel like I’m intruding on their moment.
I cover them both with a warm blanket and keep myself busy, giving them their moment but not wanting to leave in case she needs anything.
About thirty minutes later, he’s still watching his baby girl so closely, like if he even blinks, she might disappear. He gently kisses the top of her head, and the sight melts my heart.
I know how hard it is for parents to see their kids in the NICU, but his daughter is doing well. She’ll be out of here and thriving in no time.
He finally breaks the comfortable silence. “We still can’t decide on a name for her.”
We.
So there is another woman on the scene.
“What do you have it narrowed down to?” I ask gently.
“Natalia or Nyla.”
“Both beautiful names,” I murmur, trying to picture which one would suit the adorable blonde hair, blue-eyed baby more.
Natalia.
I think she’s a Natalia.
I notice a book on the table next to him, a bookmark sitting halfway through it.
Curiosity has me peering over to see what he’s reading.
I can make out the word emperor, but that’s it.
I find it incredibly sexy that he reads, especially as a reader myself.
I’m on my Kindle almost every night and have my audiobooks playing in the car on the way to and from work.
“It’s a good book,” he comments, and when I look at him, I find his eyes already on me. “You can read it when I’m finished if you like.”
My lip twitches. “It doesn’t look like my usual read.”
He grins, flashing straight white teeth. “Let me guess, you’re a romance girl. No… dark romance.”
I laugh, sliding my pen out of my pocket and making a note on the chart. “I might enjoy a good fictional romance now and again.”
“Only fictional?” he asks, tilting his head to the side and studying me. Why does it feel like he can see right through me? Like if I lied about something, he would know. He’s reading me, and I don’t know if I like it.
“That’s the only place love like that exists,” I mutter, and I know I sound cynical. But when you’ve been through what I have, you can’t help but lose faith in dating and men in general.
His daughter stirs, and I get some milk ready for her. When I hand him the bottle, our fingers touch. My eyes widen when he takes my hand and holds it. “I don’t think that’s true. Which name do you prefer?”
I scan his face, trying to read him. “Natalia.”
Once he finally releases me, there’s a reluctance on both our parts to move away from each other.
When Dr. James steps in, I get the hell out of there.
I don’t need to be attracted to a man who goes by the name of Skull. Liz, one of my closest friends and also a nurse here, told me that he’s a biker. She knows all the gossip.
A biker.
He’s a walking, talking red flag of a bad boy book boyfriend. You know, one of those you love to read about but would be a total fucking disaster in real life?
So what if he’s the most beautifully masculine man I’ve ever seen in real life?
So what if his muscles look like they’ve been sculptured by the gods themselves?
Instalove is not one of my favorite tropes.