Loving the Nurse (A Single Dad Romance)

Gus

Good God but the man was a scrumptious treat.

That was my one pervasive thought as I enjoyed my break from the pediatrics unit by catching up on my favorite food vlogger. He made some type of Asian style fish with soy sauce and lemons, and handmade noodles, and the whole image of him holding the bowl with one hand, chopsticks in the other, I didn’t know which looked better.

The man or the food.

Too bad in real life, Antonio Ricci was everything a sensible woman wouldn’t want in a man. Oh, he was wonderful with his daughter Rosie, who was the very definition of adorable, but he as also the walking, talking embodiment of a bad boy. A heartbreaker. Even while doing something as utterly domestic as making a meal, he looked like he just walked out of some woman’s bedroom and straight into his kitchen. His hair was always mussed like a woman had run her fingers through it in the throes of ecstasy, his arms were heavily muscled and full of colorful tattoos, the black t-shirts he favored clung to his arms and shoulders like a lover reluctant to let him go, and sweet lord in heaven, that sexy smirk he always flashed at the camera was enough to dampen a girl’s panties.

Including mine.

I was sure, despite having no evidence, that there was a string of broken hearts in his wake. Around Jackson’s Ridge, he was the favored son who’d done well and returned home for the sake of his daughter. The good guy, the chef everyone loved. But that was a façade. It had to be right? No man that gorgeous and that talented was as good as the town thought he was.

Not that it mattered to me because I just liked to look at Antonio while he taught me how to cook delicious meals from around the world.

End of story.

The door to the break room squeaked and I felt myself tense, because it was either someone who would want to talk, or worse, I was being called back to work seven minutes into my break. Melanie Gibson, head nurse for Jackson’s Ridge Medical Center, peeked her head in with a smile and the most knowing set of blue eyes in all of Oregon.

“There you are, Gus,” she trilled as if she didn’t know exactly where I was at all times when I was on the premises. “You’re needed in exam room four.”

We were in the business of helping people, and that came first. Above meals and bathroom breaks, breakdowns, personal drama and pretty much everything else. Still, a girl had to protect her mental health, didn’t she?

“My break just started. Where’s Sally?”

Melanie pushed the door open and fisted her hands at her hips, just in case there was any confusion over how she felt about my answer. She stared me down until I felt myself start to shrink. Too bad it wasn’t my ass or my hips or my belly shrinking, or else I might not have cared.

“You have a patient Gus.”

I took one last look at Antonio’s charming smirk and groaned. Melanie was right, of course, and I loved my job as a pediatric nurse. It was my job to make the little ones comfortable and confident during what could be a scary time for them. I loved their wide-eyed wonder when they felt better, when they realized a treatment was working, and most of all, when they got a cast put on for the first time. It was adorable and heartwarming, making my days at work more rewarding than I’d ever imagined.

“All right, all right,” I slipped my phone into the pocket of my pink and purple scrubs, mismatched thanks to an eight year old who got into his daddy’s beer. “I’m on my way to exam room four.”

Melanie flashed a satisfied smile. “Excellent. Thank you, Gus.”

I took a few minutes to wash my hands and rinse my mouth before making my way to the exam room which was reserved for patients without an appointment and who didn’t require emergency services. I sucked in a deep breath and pasted on a smile as I reached for the chart and stepped inside the room. It was important to keep things positive with pediatric patients—and their parents—because the former listened better and the latter panicked less.

I blinked and opened my mouth to start my usual spiel, but my mouth wouldn’t work because it had gone instantly dry at the sight of Antonio lounging in the blue plastic chair. Even though there was very little variety in his wardrobe—black, white or gray t-shirts, jeans always, and boots or sneakers depending on the day—he was always breathtaking. Especially up close. I gave myself a mental chastising and relaxed my shoulders as I focused on the chart until I felt normal again.