Loving the Nurse (A Single Dad Romance)

“That’s good,” I offered, but I already knew their love story ended in divorce which meant clearly something had gone badly wrong.

“It was. Until it wasn’t. At first she loved being a mom, Rosie was her little doll to dress up and photograph all day long. Until the asthma problems began. Then she couldn’t or wouldn’t, cope.” His brown eyes slammed shut, like he was stuck in the past, reliving those memories. “I found her overdosed on the sofa while Rosie was blue in the face from lack of oxygen. My heart broke thinking my little girl would die, and then to think the woman I loved, my wife, was responsible? It killed me.”

I couldn’t help it, I reached out to Antonio. Perhaps it was the nurse in me who couldn’t stand to see another person in so much pain, or maybe it was the sight of this big strong man, near tears over his precious little daughter.

“Rosie is all good now and she’s where she belongs, with her daddy.”

Antonio nodded and took a moment to get himself back under control. He was probably already regretting he’d shared so much. “You’re right, she is where she belongs. And I love to hear you say ‘daddy’.”

Thankfully the oven timer sounded in all of its loud, obnoxious glory. “Saved by the buzzer.”

“The buzzer is temporary. Daddy is forever.”

I froze at his words, at just how ridiculous he was, but I knew it was for my benefit. An overt attempt on his part to lighten the mood. And I understood. More than that, I laughed. Hard and loud and long, I laughed until I doubled over with it while the buzzer continued to sound just a few feet away. “You, are…,” I gasped but the laughter was uncontrollable and I couldn’t speak.

Antonio’s chair scraped against the floor and a moment later, he brushed past me. “I’m hilarious? Handsome? Sexy as hell? Thank you.”

“You’re delusional, my friend.”

He turned to me in surprise. “We’re friends? Good to know.” Antonio turned away again, and I realized what he was doing, and that stopped my laughter.

“Hey, that’s my dinner you’re screwing up over there!”

“Screwing up? You have a famous chef in your kitchen, and you think I’ll be the one to screw things up?”

“Damn right.”

“Well you were too busy laughing it up, and now I’m over here. What are you going to do, pick me up and move me out of your way?” There was a hint of challenge and a hint of teasing in the way he looked at me, the way he folded his arms as if I couldn’t move him.

“I could pick you up and move you. If I wanted to. But I wouldn’t want to bruise your fragile male ego.”

“I can handle it. So can my ego.”

“That’s what you say now, but when your feet are off the ground you’ll be grumbling a different tune.”

I knew, instantly, it was a mistake to challenge Antonio’s manhood. He closed the distance between us, pizza dough and topping totally forgotten as he got in my face, stood toe-to-toe with me.

“Go ahead, Augusta. Do it.”

“I will.” I could. If I wanted to.

“I’m waiting.” Heat flared in his eyes and I wondered if it was the thought of me picking him up or if he felt the heat and electricity that swirled between us. “Tick tock, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?” I sucked in a breath and before I could let it out, Antonio’s thick lips were pressed against mine, his big hands, warm through my t-shirt, settled on my shoulders for a brief moment before sliding down my arms to my waist. They came to a stop at my hips and he pulled me close, slid his tongue back and forth across the seam of my lips, gently begging me to let him in.

I thought about it while I savored the feel of his capable mouth and talented hands gripping me like I was the irresistible one. I could lean into this kiss. I could keep my eyes closed and just go with the flow, take what he was offering, what I wanted, without looking back.

Yeah, that sounded nice.

Hell, it sounded right.

Why couldn’t I end my dry spell with Antonio? He wasn’t looking for serious, and it didn’t have to be. It could just be fun, or like Antonio said, pleasure for the sake of pleasure. I hadn’t had any pleasure, at least none brought by a living, breathing male, in a long time. And even then, he wasn’t nearly as masculine or as potent as the man who’d slipped between my lips on a breathless sigh.

His big hands slid from my hips to my ass, and he pulled me right up against the long hard ridge of his erection. Antonio kissed me deeper, his touches grew hungrier and harder.

I pulled back and smiled, looked up at him with wide eyes. “Antonio,” I panted.