CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JACK
I wake to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar curtains and the scent of Sophia’s shampoo on the pillow beside me. For a moment, I just lie there, taking it in. Her bedroom in daylight—photos of Madison on the dresser, a stack of romance novels on the nightstand, scrubs thrown over a chair.
Real life. Her real life. And I’m in it now.
The bathroom door opens, and Sophia emerges in a towel, hair damp. She freezes when she sees me awake.
“Morning,” I say, voice rough with sleep.
“Hi.” That shyness from last night returns. “I didn’t want to wake you. Thought you needed sleep after yesterday.”
“Best sleep I’ve had in months.” I sit up, wincing slightly as my shoulder protests. “Even with this.”
She moves closer, studying the bruise in daylight. It’s properly spectacular now—deep purple spreading across my chest.
“Jack, that looks—”
“Worse than it feels.” I catch her hand. “Promise.”
She stands at the bed’s edge, fingers ghosting over the bruise. “You saved a whole family.”
“We saved them. Team effort.”
“Well, the news didn’t make it sound like a team effort.” Her fingers trail lower, and my breath catches. “ They made it sound like you were Superman.”
“Clark Kent was a journalist, not a paramedic.” I pull her closer. “And I don’t look that good in tights.”
“I don’t know…” Her eyes darken.
“Now, you?” I tell her very seriously, “I think you’d look good in anything. I mean, the towel looks great…”
The towel slips slightly. My hand finds her hip, thumb stroking bare skin.
“…but it’d look even better on the floor.”
The towel drops all the way to the ground, and I take in the most beautiful sight in the whole fucking world.
Sophia leans in, kisses me soft and sweet, morning breath and all. She moves to sit on my lap. I forget about my shoulder, forget about coffee, forget about everything except her warm weight settling onto my lap.
“Gorgeous, gorgeous ,” I murmur against her throat. “How are you real?”
She makes a sound that goes straight through me. I’m barely hanging on now, and—
My phone buzzes. Dispatch.
“Ignore it,” she breathes.
It buzzes again. And again.
“Shit.” I fumble for it one-handed, not letting her go. “McKenzie.”
“Morning, Kiwi!” Morrison’s voice is unnecessarily cheerful. “Need you to swing by and fill out incident reports from yesterday. Insurance needs them ASAP.”
“Now?”
“Within the hour. Hero paperwork waits for no one.”
I hang up, groaning. “Bloody bureaucracy.”
Sophia laughs, climbing off my lap. I become painfully aware of my erection, which is throbbing like it was the star feature in one of Sophie’s smutty novels. I spend a moment just admiring her beautiful body, speechless.
“I need clothes anyway,” I say when I can speak again. “Can’t keep borrowing your t-shirts.”
“That’s too bad.” She disappears back into the bathroom. “There’s coffee downstairs. Help yourself.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re both dressed—me in yesterday’s uniform pants and a Metro General shirt that’s slightly too small, Sophia in jeans and a soft blue sweater that makes her eyes impossible to look away from.
She’s making eggs when her phone rings. “It’s Maria. I should—” She answers. “Hey, what’s—”
I can hear Maria’s excited voice from across the kitchen. Something about the news, viral video, the whole hospital talking.
“No, I haven’t seen—yes, he’s—Maria!” Sophia’s blushing. “I’m hanging up now.”
She sets the phone down, shaking her head. “The video’s gone viral. You’re internet famous.”
“Brilliant.” I steal a piece of toast. “Just what every paramedic dreams of.”
We’re eating in comfortable silence when the front door slams open.
“Sophia? I know you’re home. We need to talk about Madison’s nutrition—”
Troy. Fucking Troy.
“Ain’t this a pisser,” I mutter, standing quickly.
Troy rounds the corner into the kitchen, stopping dead when he sees me. His eyes narrow, taking in my obvious bed head, bare feet, the borrowed shirt.
“What’s he doing here?” Troy demands.
“Having coffee,” Sophia says calmly. “In my house. Which you no longer have keys to, by the way.”
“I still have keys. You never changed the locks.” He puffs up like an angry peacock. “And Madison’s nutrition is a serious concern. Tiffany says processed foods are affecting her athletic performance—”
“Madison’s fine.” Sophia’s voice could freeze hell. “And give me those keys. Now.”
“I have a right to—”
“You have a right to scheduled visitation. Not to barge into my house on Sunday morning.” She holds out her hand. “Keys.”
Troy’s face reddens, but he spots my uniform pants, the Metro General shirt. “Stayed the night, did you?” His voice drips disdain. “How professional. What kind of example is this for Madison?”
“A better one than you set,” I say mildly. “Least I have a job.”
“I’m an entrepreneur—”
“You’re unemployed,” Sophia cuts in. “Living off Tiffany’s trust fund while playing with imaginary internet money.”
“Cryptocurrency is the future—”
“Keys.” Her hand doesn’t waver. “Now.”
He slams them on the counter. “This isn’t over. My lawyer—”
“Your lawyer who you pay in Dogecoin?” I ask innocently.
Troy’s face turns purple. He storms toward the door, pausing to throw back: “It’s Solana, you idiot. Do your research. Doge is a joke. Sol’s up 40% this quarter. You think real men meme-trade?”
The door slams behind him.
“Charming bloke,” I say into the silence. “Really can’t imagine why you divorced him.”
Sophia laughs, but it’s shaky. “Sorry. He’s not usually that…actually, yes he is.”
“Hey.” I pull her into my arms. “You alright?”
“Yeah. Just…embarrassed. You shouldn’t have to deal with my ex-husband drama.”
“Part of the package, yeah? You get my interfering mum, I get your tosser ex.” I check the time. “Shit. Morrison’s waiting. But we’re still on for the park?”
“Ten o’clock.” She stretches up to kiss me. “I’ll bring coffee.”
“Want me to bring pastries from that French place?”
“Perfect.” She grabs her keys. “Come on, I’ll drop you at the station.”
The ride is comfortable, her hand occasionally brushing mine on the gear shift. When we pull up to Station 2, she turns to me.
“Ten o’clock, Marina Park?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” I lean over, kiss her softly. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Thanks for…last night. This morning. Everything.”
I grin. “Anytime, Nurse Mitchell.”
An hour later, paperwork completed and wearing fresh clothes from my locker, I’m waiting at Marina Park with a box of croissants when Sophia pulls up. She emerges from her car with two coffees, looking like sunshine in that blue sweater.
“Flat white for you, red-eye for me.” She hands over my cup. “How was the paperwork?”
“Thrilling. Described the incident in triplicate.” I offer her a chocolate croissant. “Morrison says I’m trending on TikTok.”
“My daughter already texted me three different edits of the rescue footage set to dramatic music.”
We walk along the harbor path, easy conversation flowing. The park’s busy—joggers, dog walkers, families out enjoying the morning. Normal people doing normal things. It feels surreal after yesterday’s chaos.
I can’t help watching Sophia as she walks slightly ahead, the way those jeans fit perfectly. Without thinking, I reach out and squeeze her oh so perfect ass.
She jumps. “Jack! People are looking!”
“Sorry.” I grin, not sorry at all. “It’s just so perfect. Can’t help myself.”
She tries to look stern but her eyes are dancing. “Oh, you’re a butt guy, huh?”
“Listen, tāku ipo ,” I pull her closer, squeezing again. “On you, I’m not picky. You’re perfect everywhere, but this—” another squeeze “—is heaven .”
“You’re insufferable.”
“Is that a complaint?”
“Definitely not.” She threads her fingers through mine. “What’s that thing you called me? Tāku…”
“ Tāku ipo . Maori. Means ‘my darling’ or ‘my beloved.’” I bring her hand to my lips. “Too much?”
“No.” Her voice is soft. “I like it.”
We find a bench overlooking the water. Time to bring up good old Aotearoa.
“Actually,” I say, aiming for casual, “I need to go back home for a bit before long. Family thing.”
Her face falls slightly. “Oh. When?”
“Three weeks. It’s autumn there—harvest season. Family needs all hands on deck at the property.” I take a breath. “I know it’s sort-of late notice, but, ahh…thing is…that’s Madison’s spring break, yeah? You both have passports?”
“We do, actually. Troy was going to take her to Costa Rica last year, but the memecoin he’d been hyping got pump and dumped. He lost everything he’d invested.” She rolls her eyes. “ShibaMoonRocket or something equally stupid.”
“So…want to come with me? You and Madison? I’ve got Air New Zealand points saved up. Could cover the flights.”
“Jack, that’s…are you sure? Meeting your family, that’s a big step.”
“Already told them about you.” At her surprised look, I add quickly, “Just that I’m seeing someone. Someone special.”
“What exactly did you tell them?”
“That you’re brilliant. Beautiful. Raise an amazing daughter. Run an entire ER without breaking a sweat.” I pause. “Left out the bit about you making me walk into walls when you wear that black dress.”
She laughs. “Smooth.”
“So? What do you think? Week and a half in New Zealand? Show Madison some sheep, let her try proper fish and chips, maybe do some wine tasting?”
“Wine tasting?” She raises an eyebrow. “At your family’s ‘property’?”
My stomach drops slightly. “Well, the whole region’s known for wine. Lots of places to visit.”
“Uh-huh.” But she’s smiling. “Madison would love it. She’s been dying to travel somewhere since the Costa Rica thing fell through.”
“Is that a yes?”
“I need to check work schedules…I might have to have someone pick up a couple shifts from me, but…yes. God, yes. Time away from Troy and his lectures sounds like heaven.”
“Speaking of Troy…” I hesitate. “Can I ask something? You don’t have to answer.”
“About the marriage?”
“About how he…treated you.”