Unexpected Daddy - The Forbidden Fu

I finish my run at breakneck speed and come back home sweaty and awake as the blood pumps through my veins. I head up to my bathroom and turn on the shower, peeling off my clothes as the water warms. I wanted to run Jessa out of my system, but frankly, I’m still pretty revved up. If I keep thinking about her, I’ll be hard all day, and I won’t get anything done, dammit. It’s a lose-lose.

Fuck. I shake my head and get into the shower. Ten minutes later, I towel off, brush my teeth, put on my uniform, and head to the kitchen to make some breakfast. I splurged on one of those automatic coffee makers, so there’s already a cup waiting for me in the dispenser. All I have to do is make myself some eggs.

One boring plate of scrambled eggs and buttered toast later, I head out to my truck. The breakfast actually calmed me down somewhat, and I feel less scattered already. When I pull into the parking lot of Prescott General, I’m practically normal again. That is, so long as thoughts of Jessa don’t get in the way.

Working like a madman, I bang out reports, restock the truck, and even answer a few calls. My limbs move in a blur, and my partner Rob comments on my efficiency.

“Something up?” he asks, one black eyebrow arched.

Immediately, I deny it.

“No, just feeling pumped today. You know, had a good breakfast and all.”

He smiles, running a hand through hair.

“Really, breakfast did this for you? Hell, I better get my own bowl of Superhero Wheaties then.”

We laugh together, although my chuckles are more of a grunt. Lunch goes by in a blur, and I’m just about to put in a request for some supplies, when suddenly, there’s a soft voice behind me.

“Hey Sam,” it murmurs. “How are you? It’s Jessa from last night.”

I spin around, surprised. Of course, I know who she is. The redhead is incredibly beautiful and sexy. She’s wearing a denim skirt which shows off miles of long legs and her t-shirt is tight, but not too tight, highlighting her big bust.

“Hey, Jess.” I want to say more, but I’m weirdly tongue-tied.

She smiles, a bit shy.

“The front desk told me you’d be around. I wanted to return something you left at my place.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

She opens her purse and pulls out a roll of gauze. I stare at it, confused, and then start to laugh. “No, no,” I say, shaking my head. “You didn’t come all this way just to give me back some gauze, did you? You know the hospital has thousands of rolls, don’t you?”

She glances away and blushes. It makes her look innocent and young; I almost feel bad about teasing her. She pushes her hair behind her ear and looks up at me through those long lashes.

“You’re right,” she stammers a bit. “I guess I didn’t think … well, here.”

I take the gauze from her.

“Thanks,” is my reply. “Appreciate it. We do run out of supplies sometimes, but not of these babies. These guys, we’ve practically got a warehouse full of them.”

Her cheeks merely flame again.

“Oh sorry,” she stutters. “I didn’t realize.”

“But I appreciate it,” I say quickly. “Want to walk with me while I put it back in the storeroom?”

She bites her lip, her eyes going wide. This obviously isn’t normal protocol. Anyone else, and I’d just toss the gauze into my bag to be forgotten. But I’d like to spend a few more minutes with Jessa, and fortunately, she nods.

“Sure,” she says. “I’ve never really been in a hospital before actually. I don’t get sick often,” she explains.

I nod as we begin walking down the hall.

“That’s a good thing because I don’t want to answer any more calls from you,” I say with a sly smile. She blushes again, and this time the red creeps down to her décolletage, staining it an attractive shade of pink. “Here’s the pediatrics wing,” I say, waving my hand towards the left. “And this is ambulatory care,” I add with a gesture to my right. Soon, we’re in front of a large door which proclaims “Storage” across the front in stenciled block letters.

“Here we are,” I say, throwing the door open. “As you can see, our storeroom is enormous. We have anything and everything a patient might need, from the smallest band-aid to the largest gurney. It’s all here.” Sure enough, there are rows upon rows of supplies stacked on metal rolling shelves reaching all the way to the ceiling.

“Wow, this is a lot,” Jessa marvels, her eyes wide. But I gesture and keep walking, leading her to the back, where there’s another door in the wall.

“And this,” I say with a flourish, throwing the door open. “Is our secret break room. It’s not really a secret, but it’s buried inside the storeroom, so not that many people know about it. My friends and I sometimes use it to catch some zzz’s when we’re working a long shift.”