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The Best Laid Plans
Amy Vastine


She planned on falling in love. Just not with him! Emma Everhart's life is going according to plan. Finish nursing school with flying colours… Check. Get a great job in the ER… Check. Marry a handsome doctor and have two babies, three years apart… Not quite yet. But with a dreamy new doctor joining the hospital staff, she's so close she can almost taste the wedding cake. Now is not the time to let the tall, dark and flirtatious paramedic Charlie Fletcher distract her! He may be the best date and best kiss she's ever had, but he's definitely not part of her plan. No matter how he makes her feel…







She planned on falling in love. Just not with him!

Emma Everhart’s life is going according to plan. Finish nursing school with flying colours... Check. Get a great job in the ER... Check. Marry a handsome doctor and have two babies, three years apart... Not quite yet. But with a dreamy new doctor joining the hospital staff, she’s so close she can almost taste the wedding cake. Now is not the time to let the tall, dark and flirtatious paramedic Charlie Fletcher distract her! He may be the best date and best kiss she’s ever had, but he’s definitely not part of her plan. No matter how he makes her feel...


“There are tons of great love stories out there. It happens. It could happen to you.”

“Absolutely.” Emma licked some more ice cream off her spoon. “I don’t care what my sister says. I know I’m going to have one heck of a story to tell someday.”

Emma was a hopeless romantic, and Charlie liked the idea of being written into her love story. He just had to figure out how to get the part. So far, this new strategy seemed to be working.

“Mr. Right could be closer than you think,” he said with a wink. So close she could literally reach out and grab him if she wanted to.

“Oh, he’s close all right.” Emma’s eyes lit up and her smile was back in full force. “There’s this new doctor at the hospital, and we’ve kind of hit it off.”


Dear Reader (#ulink_3c40e550-176f-5a7f-aeca-37aa2b9f7618),

I am so excited to have the opportunity to continue telling the story of the Everhart sisters. Lucy, Kendall and Emma are the kind of sisters I wish I had. They’re honest and loyal. They’re always there to provide a shoulder to cry on or to share a laugh.

Emma is the youngest and the one who has never had to worry about how her life is going to turn out because she has a plan. Her plans include marrying a doctor and living happily ever after. There’s only one problem: Charlie Fletcher. Emma’s not supposed to fall in love with the nice-guy paramedic. But sometimes even the best laid plans go awry.

I hope you enjoy Emma and Charlie’s story as well as the other love stories in the Chicago Sisters series. I love connecting with readers. You can find me at amyvastine.com (http://www.amyvastine.com) and on Facebook (AmyVastineAuthor (https://www.facebook.com/AmyVastineAuthor)) and Twitter (@vastine7 (https://twitter.com/vastine7)).

Amy Vastine


The Best Laid Plans






Amy Vastine






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


AMY VASTINE has been plotting stories in her head for as long as she can remember. An eternal optimist, she studied social work, hoping to teach others how to find their silver lining. Now she enjoys creating happily-ever-afters for all to read. Amy lives outside Chicago with her high school sweetheart turned husband, three fun-loving children and their sweet but mischievous puppy. Visit her at amyvastine.com (http://www.amyvastine.com).


To Jake, Alyssa and Ryan. I love you today, tomorrow, forever!


Contents

Cover (#u53204760-e307-568c-8b44-a04009bc5375)

Back Cover Text (#ue41d38de-caa5-5d3e-92b3-7c3807648ff1)

Introduction (#uec2d3da1-52eb-5161-a5df-49e0cd3832fa)

Dear Reader (#u9aa1f4df-3764-571c-ae83-7659890da226)

Title Page (#u7fc995b3-97a4-58f1-9e27-f2487643cfa2)

About the Author (#uc7c9a97b-c8ec-55f2-bec2-18fba5e4145c)

Dedication (#ua2b2da09-e984-5d7e-8b36-8019af7273e2)

CHAPTER ONE (#ub2445069-b48c-5c3b-9138-292e7c75d7a7)

CHAPTER TWO (#u88f38483-1168-5382-b6b7-aa3e90ab6bda)

CHAPTER THREE (#uf5f32548-b70a-5c56-b119-482d42348bf7)

CHAPTER FOUR (#ue65bacbd-8461-589e-bad6-61f9057f1507)

CHAPTER FIVE (#u0d8d5fea-3f6b-5c79-ae55-b3aa6f81ac7f)

CHAPTER SIX (#u807c1395-51fb-5f37-bb75-3dd1290bc5b5)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_5e238a28-99c3-54ef-9fee-43cc929de080)

“WHAT KIND OF hospital is this? Why aren’t you sewing my ear back on?”

Emma felt guilty for wanting to laugh. She thought she had seen it all. Working in the emergency room at Saint Joseph’s was never boring. In the four years she’d been a nurse there, she’d seen a little bit of everything. Babies delivered in and just outside the waiting room. College students who took a dare to drink hand sanitizer when they ran out of beer money. Victims of car accidents. People afraid they were having a heart attack and those who were truly having one. This was new, though. The elderly gentleman was fretting about his missing ear quite unnecessarily.

“Your ear is securely attached to your head, Mr. Wilson. We don’t sew something on that hasn’t fallen off,” Dr. Gavin reassured him. She finished putting the stitches in the old man’s arm and took the gauze Emma held out for her.

“What?” Mr. Wilson turned his head and cupped his other ear. “I can’t hear you, Doc, because my ear fell off! When are you going to put it back on?”

He had been brought in by his wife, who reported that he’d fallen on their front porch steps. X-rays came back clear. No broken bones, thankfully. Mr. Wilson had some bumps and bruises, and there was a nasty gash on his arm, but the bigger concern seemed to be his delusion that his ear had fallen off.

“We’re going to find someone who can help you. I promise.” Dr. Gavin lifted off her stool, removing her latex gloves. Her fiery-red hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, so different from the usual wild mess of curls. Her eyes fell on Emma. “I’m going to find his wife. Can you check on that psych consult? He should have been here by now.”

“I think someone may be avoiding someone,” Emma whispered as she cleared away the suture tray. Dr. Tessa Gavin was a third-year resident and Emma’s favorite doctor in the ER. Spirited and tough, Tessa reminded Emma of her eldest sister, Lucy. Much like Lucy, Tessa was a man-eater. Her most recent victim was a sweet and handsome psychiatrist from the hospital.

Tessa sighed heavily. “Seriously. This is why I’m done. He’s so sensitive, always wanting to talk about our—” she cringed and made a face “—feelings.”

“Oh, no,” Emma gasped in mock horror. “Not your feelings.”

Tessa grimaced. She saved her compassion for her patients, not her boyfriends.

“What about my ear?” Mr. Wilson’s fist came down hard on the side rail.

Emma yanked open the drawer with the petroleum jelly. “I’ve got some temporary adhesive right here, Mr. Wilson. We’ll put this on while we wait for the next doctor to come check on you.”

“Thank you,” Tessa mouthed as she slipped through the curtain.

Dabbing the jelly around Mr. Wilson’s perfectly attached ear, Emma glanced at the clock on the wall. She had twenty minutes before her shift ended. She needed to be out of there on time tonight. Big things were happening, and she was not going to miss any of it.

She pulled off her gloves. “There you go, Mr. Wilson. I applied some adhesive that should hold until another doctor can come examine you, all right?” The old man had tears trailing down his cheeks. “Is everything okay?”

He stared off as if Emma wasn’t even there. Mrs. Wilson pushed aside the curtain and rejoined them.

“Is it okay if I come in?”

“I think you’re just what he needs,” Emma said, pulling a chair over so she could sit beside her husband.

“I want to go home.” Mr. Wilson tried to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed. “This hospital is no help.”

“Hold on, Joe,” Mrs. Wilson said, encouraging him to lie back down. “They want you to talk to one more doctor.”

“I’m falling apart and no one will help me.” He pointed a finger at Emma. “You won’t help me. You’re useless!”

“Joe!” Poor Mrs. Wilson held a hand over her heart. “Please don’t talk to the nurse like that. You’re fine. The doctor stitched you up.”

Mr. Wilson shook his head. “No one can fix me.” He lay back down and the vacant look returned. Mrs. Wilson choked back her tears.

“I’ll check on that consult,” Emma offered.

Mrs. Wilson followed her out. “Excuse me, Nurse?” Emma spun around and she continued. “He didn’t mean that, what he said about you not helping him.”

“Oh, I know,” she said kindly.

Mrs. Wilson wrung her hands. “He’s not himself. He’s the sweetest man I’ve ever known. Never raised his voice to me in all our forty-three years of marriage.”

“Wow, that’s a long time,” Emma said, genuinely impressed.

“Should be longer,” she lamented. “I didn’t know a good thing when I saw it. I wasted so much time, thinking I was crazy to fall for a guy who worked in his parents’ bakery. Thought I needed to marry a guy who wore a suit and tie to work. I never realized how short life was until we got here at the end.”

Before Emma could say anything, Dr. Ian Huntley arrived, seemingly relieved that a certain redheaded doctor was nowhere to be seen. “Someone called for a consult?”

Emma gave Mrs. Wilson a smile and rubbed her arm gently. “Dr. Huntley is the best we’ve got at helping people who aren’t feeling like themselves.”

* * *

IN A BIG CITY like Chicago, Friday nights in the ER were almost as popular as the city’s hottest restaurants. One of those hot spots was a chic little Japanese place just off the Mag Mile. Emma happened to know the restaurant’s manager. Max Jordan dated her sister, Kendall. Although, he wouldn’t be dating her for much longer.

Emma had two patients to check on and a couple charts to update before her twelve-hour shift would be over. Emma, Kendall and Lucy had an eight-o’clock reservation at Sato’s. Being late was not an option. She tried to finish her shift-change report while two nursing assistants gossiped at the nurses’ station.

“I heard the new doc starting in a few weeks looks exactly like Leonardo DiCaprio.”

“Wait, I heard he had dark hair and kind of looks like Zac Efron.”

“No, blond. I saw him from behind when he was meeting with Dr. Lyons the other day. He was gorgeous from the back.”

“Exactly how is one gorgeous from the back?” Emma asked without glancing up from her paperwork.

“I don’t know, I could just tell. He’s tall, blond and looks good from behind. He’s got to be gorgeous if he looks like Leo. I hope he’s single.”

He was, but he wouldn’t be for long. At least not if Emma had anything to say about it. She had a plan, and that plan included the new doctor.

Some people, like her sister Lucy, thought she was crazy for believing she could map out her entire life, but so far, she’d done just that. The plan was a way to let the universe know what she wanted and it allowed her to have some say in her fate. Sticking to the plan was the key, in Emma’s opinion. She had learned the hard way that things could go terribly wrong when she didn’t stay true to the plan.

Emma’s life plan had included attending nursing school at Marquette and working at Saint Joseph’s just as her mother had. Thanks to a volleyball scholarship, Marquette became a reality even after her parents had put two other kids through college. Top of her class, Emma had a job offer from Saint Joe’s before she even graduated.

Phase two of her life plan had been carefully crafted more recently. Emma planned to marry a doctor before she was thirty. She had dated her share of accountants and engineers. Had dinner with a locksmith once. Spent a month being romanced by a guy who worked in human resources.

In the end, marrying a doctor made the most sense. Given the crazy hours at the hospital, working there together would let them see each other more often. He would also be an excellent provider. Anyone who made it through medical school and residency would have to be not only intelligent but also diligent and reliable. Those traits were important to Emma, both in a husband and a father.

After a year-long engagement—so she would have enough time to plan accordingly—she would have the most spectacular wedding Chicago had ever seen. She planned to take an extended leave of absence to raise her two children, the first of which she would have when she was no older than thirty-three. Her second child would be born three years later because three years would allow the children to be close enough in age to be friends but far enough apart that there would not be any rivalry.

It was the perfect plan for the perfect life. Emma had put a tremendous amount of thought into it. She had to because she didn’t deter from her plans; she had only done so a few times. Every time she had, her life had nearly been derailed. Clearly, someone or something had been trying to tell her to get back on course.

None of that made sense to people like Lucy. How could Emma believe in fate if she also thought she could control her destiny? Emma’s answer was simple—free will gave her the opportunity to choose her path. Her responsibility was to stick with it. Her plans could be outrageous; it didn’t matter. Crazy things happened every day. Working in the hospital proved that. How many times had Emma seen a patient, who never should have lived, survive and walk out the door? Likewise, people with very treatable issues could take a turn for the worse at a moment’s notice. Life had a plan for everyone, and Emma simply believed she was allowed to choose hers. The only catch was that once she chose, that was it. There was no going back.

With her plans set, Emma knew everything would work out. However, at twenty-eight, she was beginning to feel a little pressure from her self-imposed timelines. All the doctors she worked with were either old enough to be her father or married with kids. The new doctor’s arrival seemed too good to be true, but Emma knew his being sent here was fate answering her call.

Dr. Scott Spencer was twenty-five years old and originally from Minnesota. He came from a family of doctors and, as far as Emma knew, he didn’t have a girlfriend or wife. He did look somewhat like Leo, but Emma thought he had more of a young Brad Pitt vibe about him. He was the sign to keep the faith. All Emma had to do was get him to fall in love with her. She had plans for that, too.

“Can one of you make sure the patient in room three gets the extra pillow he requested so I can get out of here when I finish this?” Emma asked the assistants, effectively putting an end to the gossip surrounding her future husband. Time was ticking in more ways than one. Lucy would kill her if she was the reason they were late for dinner.

* * *

EMMA GOT READY in record time, somehow managing to make it home, shower, get dressed and blow out her hair in less than an hour. Her display of superhuman speed went unappreciated, however.

“We need to get going!” Lucy shouted from the living room.

Emma grabbed her lipstick and mascara to apply on the way to the restaurant. “You act like our table will be given away,” she said as she joined her sisters and slid her earrings in. It was a quick cab ride to the restaurant from her Lincoln Park apartment. They weren’t going to be that late.

Lucy swept her bangs out of her eyes. She wore a to-die-for black dress that hugged every curve. Emma used to be jealous of her eldest sister’s swimsuit-model body, flawless complexion and blondes-have-more-fun lifestyle. But beautiful bodies could betray just as well as any other. Lucy’s battle with breast cancer a couple years ago had taught Emma to be thankful for the body she’d been given. Her waist might be the same size as her hips and her hair a boring shade of brown, but she had her health, and for that she was glad.

“I can text Max and tell him we’re going to be late if you need more time,” Kendall said, pulling out her phone.

“No!” Emma lunged for the phone, startling Kendall. Lucy’s eyes widened in warning. She had always been much better at keeping secrets than Emma. “I mean, I’m ready. Don’t bother him. Let’s go.”

The sisters chatted about work on the way to dinner. Lucy had had a busy week at the women’s advocacy center. Emma had always admired Lucy’s tenacity, but even more so when she used it to fight for someone else. Kendall’s interior design company had landed another big job in the city, remodeling the lobby of some five-star luxury hotel. That was the reason Kendall thought they were out celebrating.

The hostess at Sato’s recognized them immediately and sat them right in front of the mural Kendall had painted when she worked there. Had it not been for the remodeling job at Sato’s, Kendall may not have met Max. The job and a little bit of fate had brought them together. Emma thought it was terribly romantic.

Kendall had inquired about Max’s whereabouts twice. The last thing they needed was for her to go looking for him. The food was a welcome distraction and gave them something else to talk about. When they were finished, the waiter brought over a bottle of champagne and began to pour them each a glass.

“You guys didn’t need to do this,” Kendall insisted.

“It wasn’t us,” Emma said, smiling from ear to ear as the surprise unfolded.

Dressed in little suit coats and ties, Kendall’s seven-year-old son and Max’s four-year-old son appeared at the table, each holding a wrapped present.

“Simon, Aidan, what are you doing here?”

“Hi, Mommy. It’s a surprise. Are you surprised?”

Kendall nodded. Simon gave his younger companion a nudge and bent down to whisper something to him. Little Aidan stepped forward and placed his gift on the table in front of Kendall.

“I like it when we all go to the zoo and when you make us brownies,” he said. Kendall unwrapped the gift to find a framed photo of the four of them at the Lincoln Park Zoo.

She set down the picture and opened her arms for Aidan. “That is so sweet. I love going to the zoo with you, too.”

Simon placed his present on the table. “I like it when we all watch movies on Max’s big TV and have pizza-and-movie nights.”

Kendall wiped the corner of her eye. “I like that, too, buddy.” She opened the next present, which was a giant popcorn bowl with four smaller bowls nested in it, each labeled with their names. “Thank you,” she said, giving her son a big hug. “I don’t understand what you two are doing here past your bedtimes, though.”

“There’s one more present,” Simon said with a big grin.

Emma watched as Max stepped up to the table empty-handed. Kendall’s confusion quickly faded at the sight of him. In that moment, it was clear she knew exactly what was happening.

Max dropped to one knee and the two little boys followed suit. “I like how the four of us hold hands when we cross the street. I like how serious you get during innocent games of Go Fish,” he said, causing Kendall to laugh through her tears. “I like that whenever you buy Simon something, you think about Aidan, too. I like that we rely on one another and that it’s not nearly as scary as we both thought it would be. I like you, Kendall. And it may be weird, but I think liking you is even more important than loving you, which I also do. I love you more than I ever thought possible.”

“I like you and love you, too,” Kendall managed to choke out.

Max reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring box. Emma’s own heart melted in her chest. She could only imagine how it felt to be Kendall right now—cherished, wanted, so very loved. She couldn’t wait for it to be her turn at this kind of romance.

“Kendall, I like it that we already act like a family.” Opening the box, he presented her with a ring. “Will you marry me and make it official?”

“Please!” Simon and Aidan shouted from either side of him.

How could her sister say no to that? Emma watched as the soon-to-be family hugged and Kendall accepted the proposal. The entire restaurant erupted in applause. Even Lucy, the hopeless unromantic of the family, snatched up her napkin and dried her eyes.

“We’ll take the boys home so you guys can continue your celebration,” Emma said after getting her own hug from Kendall.

“Don’t worry about it. I got them a babysitter.” Max nodded behind him. Standing out like a sore thumb amongst all the servers dressed in black stood Max’s neighbor, Charlie. He was a giant, probably six foot four, and had on jeans and a Chicago Cubs T-shirt. Charlie taking the boys was not part of the plan.

“I thought Lucy and I were going to take them back to Kendall’s?”

“Charlie offered to watch them at my place,” Max said as if it was no big deal.

Charlie and his extra-wide smile came over to congratulate the happy couple. He was Max’s only friend in the city besides Kendall. Emma knew him from the hospital. He was the paramedic all the triage nurses flirted with when he brought someone into the ER. Emma could admit there was something attractive about his dark brown hair and green eyes that were always smiling.

“But that wasn’t the plan,” she said, unable to let it go.

“The plans changed, Nightingale. Is that okay?” Charlie asked. The way he looked at her made her stomach feel weird.

“Someone could have texted,” she said to Max, who was oblivious to her frustration.

“Let’s not make a big deal about this,” Lucy said, bumping Emma with her hip and glaring.

This was Kendall’s night. Emma needed to pull it together. Plans changed. Not her plans, but other people changed their plans all the time. Roll with it, she told herself.

“You can come over and help me get them to bed if you want. Floor Three has the good cable. All the movies we want at the touch of a button.” Floor Three was Charlie’s nickname for Max because he lived on the third floor of their three-flat. Charlie had a thing for nicknaming everyone he met. It was weird but oddly cute at the same time.

His invitation threw her off for a second. His eyes were locked on hers, still smiling but so intense. He had this way of making her feel as if there was no one else in this world he wanted to be looking at other than her.

Her face warmed. “I have to work tomorrow. Maybe it’s best you’ve got them.”

“Another time, maybe.”

“Maybe.” Maybe not. There was only one thing Emma knew for sure—Charlie Fletcher was not part of any of her plans. No matter how those eyes made her feel.


CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_496df100-30d7-595d-8686-795cd778935f)

“IF YOU HAD to choose between the Bulls of the nineties and the Blackhawks of today, who has the most raw talent across the board?” Charlie asked as he sat on Max’s couch, watching hockey.

“That’s tough,” Max replied. “The Bulls had Jordan, the greatest player of our lifetime. There were other guys on that team with talent, but they couldn’t have won championship after championship without Jordan.”

“Exactly. You have to pick the Hawks. There isn’t one guy we can’t live without. There are threats everywhere.”

Max’s phone beeped. He checked the message and typed a quick reply. This had been going on since Charlie had gotten there.

“Everything okay?”

Max scratched the back of his head after tossing his phone on the coffee table. “I’m all for people being helpful. But sometimes people think they’re being helpful, when, in fact, they’re being a pain in the butt.”

“Someone at work?” Charlie asked just as the Blackhawks started a power play. The game was tied and would determine which team would have home-ice advantage in the playoffs.

“I wish,” Max said, his own eyes glued to the television. “I’ve been engaged for less than a week and this wedding is already making me cranky.”

The hockey puck refused to go in the goal no matter what the Hawks tried. Another shot went wide.

“Come on! We only need one goal, guys!” Charlie shouted at the screen as if the team could hear him.

“We’re going to lose this game if we don’t convert on this power play.”

“The Hawks will pull this out. We just need one. We can get one.” Charlie had faith. He believed things would work out in the end—they always did. “Don’t tell me your fiancée is driving you nuts.”

“No, not Kendall. We agreed that we wanted our wedding to be low-key. We talked about just going to the courthouse and making it official. Her sister, on the other hand, has other ideas. Emma thinks we need to have a ‘real’ wedding, and if we can’t put it together, she will.”

“Emma, huh?” The game no longer held Charlie’s interest. Emma was the complete package. She was the perfect combination of sweet, sexy, smart and interesting. Every time they bumped into one another, he became more enamored. She was cool and exuded an easy confidence, as though she always knew exactly what she was doing and why she was doing it.

“Yeah. Kendall swears there’s no one better at organizing things, but I think we should keep it simple. Just family and a justice of the peace.”

“I’m with the Nightingale on this one. You’re marrying Special K! You can’t marry a woman like that at city hall. Plus, if you have a real wedding, you’ll get gifts and I’ll get to drink out of a real glass when I come over to watch the game.” Charlie held up his plastic kiddie cup filled with Coke.

Max snorted when he laughed. “That’s one way to look at it, I suppose.”

Finding the bright side was Charlie’s gift. He was a silver-lining kind of guy. His optimism was a trait passed down through the generations; his father and grandfather had similar personalities.

Charlie’s grandfather swore it was the power of positive thinking that had won the two elder Fletcher men the women of their dreams. Unfortunately, Charlie hadn’t experienced the same kind of luck in the romance department. Women found him funny and charming when they met him, but eventually they all broke his heart, perpetuating the nice-guys-finish-last theory.

Emma had dream-woman potential. Charlie hadn’t pursued her yet out of fear. One more failed relationship and his optimism might be lost for good. Then he’d be lonely and depressed. He couldn’t let his thoughts drift in that direction.

“What if I helped her? I could make sure she doesn’t get too carried away. Make sure it’s how you want it.”

Max lifted one eyebrow. “You want to help plan my wedding?”

“Honestly? No. But I would like to spend some time with Kendall’s sister.” Charlie grinned. “Is that wrong?”

This garnered all of Max’s attention. He sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “You want to spend time with Emma? When did this happen?”

Charlie scrubbed his face with his hands. There would be no going back once the cat was out of the bag. “Pretty much since the first time I saw her.”

“What? How did I not know this?” He reached for his phone, but Charlie smacked it out of his hand.

“You can’t tell Kendall.”

“I have to tell Kendall.”

“You cannot tell Kendall.”

“I don’t think you understand,” Max said seriously. “Kendall will be told. If not now, then later.”

“Later. Please.”

“Fine.” A smile spread slowly across Max’s face. “Charlie Fletcher, I thought we were friends, but you’ve been holding out on me.”

Charlie hadn’t been intentionally keeping secrets. There wasn’t much to tell other than he had a crush. “There was nothing to say. I like her. I’ve been holding back a little because the women who somehow resist my good looks completely fall at my feet when I turn on the charm. It’s embarrassing, really.”

Max laughed into his fist. “Okay, but seriously. Emma’s cool. Now, if you were head over heels for Lucy, I’d tell you to run for your life. Emma’s usually easy to get along with, but I think she’s dating some doctor. If you let me call Kendall—” he reached for his phone “—I could find out.”

“No way.” Charlie smacked his hand again. “I have sisters. Sisters tell sisters everything. If you tell Kendall, she’ll tell Emma and things will be weird.”

“Okay, then just ask her out on a date,” Max suggested.

“But you think she’s already dating someone?” He’d worried this was the case. A beautiful woman like Emma probably had a boyfriend.

“Kendall and Lucy always say things about Emma marrying a doctor, but I feel like I’m missing something. I’ve never met any doctor boyfriend, so I’m not sure.”

Before he made a fool of himself, Charlie needed to find out if Dr. Boyfriend was real or not. If he wasn’t, he’d ask her on a date. If she was already taken, Charlie would have to reassess the situation.

“Well, you wanna be my best man?” Max asked.

“Yeah?” Charlie grinned. He hadn’t expected to get a title. “You want me to be your best man?”

“If you’re going to help my future sister-in-law plan my wedding, you should probably be my best man.”

“You’re a good man, Floor Three. I’m in.” Charlie had never planned a wedding, but he’d been to a few. Something told him he’d have to look at flower arrangements and discuss things like color palettes—things he had no interest in whatsoever. Spending some time with Emma could definitely be worth it, though.

Max and Charlie shook hands just as the Blackhawks’ forward scored a goal with only seconds left in the third period. Both men jumped up, cheering loudly. They high-fived and clapped for their team as if they were fans in the stands. A win for the Hawks had to be a sign that good things were going to come Charlie’s way.

* * *

“PEOPLE NEED TO turn down their music and look in their rearview mirrors every once in a while,” Charlie’s partner complained as she honked the air horn and drove the ambulance around some guy who simply refused to pull over.

Charlie stared him down as they passed. “He’s on his phone. I knew it!” There was nothing more frustrating to a paramedic than not being able to get to a call because of negligent drivers.

Serena made a wide right turn onto a one-way street. She double-parked in front of the brownstone where the 911 call had been made. Charlie grabbed his jump bag and headed for the building. A new life was about to begin today. The caller, Mr. Garrison, said his wife was in labor and was too far along to leave the house.

He wasn’t kidding.

The young woman lay on the bed clutching her swollen belly and shrieking as another contraction brought her one step closer to motherhood. Her husband ran back to her side and held her hand until it was over.

“I told her we should go to the hospital when they were coming every ten minutes, but she thought she had enough time to shower.”

Charlie noticed Mrs. Garrison had done more than shower. Her hair was styled and she had a face full of makeup. Something told him she’d been more worried about how she would look than about getting to the hospital on time. This had to be her first child, because most women didn’t wait when they’d been through the “joys” of natural childbirth before.

Serena instructed Mrs. Garrison not to bear down and asked the husband to get them some clean towels or blankets. Charlie pulled out the necessary equipment from his bag and put on a pair of gloves. Speaking as calmly as he could manage, he let the very-soon-to-be mother know everything that was happening as it happened. He got her positioned correctly and found the baby’s head was already crowning.

“You need to take me to the hospital! I can’t have my baby delivered by an ambulance driver!”

Sometimes Charlie’s profession got no respect. People didn’t realize how much training was necessary to be a paramedic. No, they weren’t doctors, but they were medical professionals capable of providing treatment until the patient could get to a hospital.

“Can you give me some drugs? I need some drugs,” Mrs. Garrison grunted. First timer for sure.

“I need you to breathe like this.” Charlie showed her how to puff air out so she didn’t push before they were ready. “There’s no time to get you to the hospital, or for drugs, I’m afraid. This baby is going to be out before anything could start working.”

Mr. Garrison returned with towels, and Serena got busy turning the bedroom into what would now be the delivery room. Mrs. Garrison grimaced and then screamed out again.

“I need to push!”

Charlie told her to go ahead as he helped ease the head out. He checked to make sure there was nothing wrapped around the baby’s neck and let her push again. In a matter of seconds, Charlie held a tiny baby boy in his hands. He suctioned the mouth and nose, and the baby let out the kind of cry that every parent loves to hear. Charlie cleaned him off and wrapped him up in a clean towel. Serena handed him the oxygen to administer to the little guy until he pinked up nicely.

“You’ve got a good-lookin’ son here. Now we can take you guys to the hospital to make sure.”

These were the kinds of calls that made Charlie’s day. Not only had he helped bring a life into the world, but he also had to transport this new family to Saint Joe’s, where Emma worked. He felt as if it was a good omen that something as joyous as a newborn was bringing him to her hospital today.

As soon as Mrs. Garrison was no longer in agonizing pain, she realized her husband did not have his camera at the ready. The hair and makeup made perfect sense after she got him to take a few dozen pictures of her and their son. Mr. Garrison gave his wife her phone so she could post some selfies and make the announcement that she’d delivered a healthy boy on every social media site out there.

Serena’s face gave away her annoyance. Charlie could only smile. “Come on, Serena Hayes. I bet you looked like a million bucks in all the pictures when your babies were born.”

Serena had heard about Charlie’s proclivity for giving nicknames when she came to work at Station 22. She was an African-American woman in her thirties. No one was going to call her anything childish or foolish. She’d introduced herself and let him know he had a couple options. He could call her by her first name or last name. She would respond to either, but nothing else. That led to him calling her by both her first and last name. Sometimes he slipped in a Serqueena when he was feeling rebellious, but that didn’t happen too often.

“I look good all the time. I don’t need to post it all over the web to prove it,” she said under her breath. She gave Mrs. Garrison one more minute to finish her announcements before they loaded her and the baby into the ambulance and headed to Saint Joseph’s Hospital.

* * *

THE TRIAGE NURSE on duty loved Charlie. She congratulated him on his successful delivery and offered him a chocolate kiss from the little jar that sat on her desk.

“I think you missed your calling. You should have gone to medical school,” she said.

“I’m not doctor material. Too many years in the classroom and then the rest of your life spent in the hospital. Not to mention, I look terrible in white. But blue, I’m to die for in blue,” he said with a wink. Charlie unwrapped the chocolate and popped it in his mouth. He attempted to nonchalantly scan the ER for any sign of Emma, but she was nowhere to be seen. He worried she wasn’t on duty today. “Any chance Emma Everhart is around?”

“Emma?” The woman’s forehead creased. “What do you need Emma for?”

“I’m the best man in her sister’s wedding. I just wanted to touch base with her.” His eyes continued to search for her.

“Her sister is getting married? You know her sister?”

“Her sister is marrying my neighbor. Small world, right?” Just then, Emma stepped out from behind one of the curtained-off care rooms. She changed the colored marker outside the room from orange to green. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun and her blue scrubs were nothing fancy, but she wore blue better than Charlie did. His throat tightened at the thought of talking to her.

“Emma!” the triage nurse screeched. Emma turned at the sound of her name and Charlie’s heart began to pound. Her eyes fell squarely on him, as if he was the owner of the painfully shrill voice. The triage nurse waved her over. “Come here.”

The closer she got, the warmer he felt. He practiced greeting her in his head, trying to sound cool. Then she smiled and he lost the ability to speak.

“Hey, Charlie. What’s up, Diane?”

The sound of his name coming from her lips was magic. He wanted to sweep her up in his arms and hear her say it again, breathlessly this time.

“Why didn’t you tell me your sister is getting married?”

Emma glanced at Charlie, who could only grin like an idiot. She spoke to Diane. “I don’t think I’ve had a minute to talk about it with you. But I see it’s already ER gossip.”

“He wasn’t gossiping,” Diane said in his defense. “Charlie was just telling me how he’s the best man.”

Those eyes that were this mesmerizing mix of brown and green fell back on him. “Max asked you to be the best man?”

This was when Charlie wanted words to come out of his mouth, but all he could do was nod. She had this way of turning him into a mute.

“Huh.” She smiled and said, “Well, you better start writing a fabulous best man’s speech because the maid-of-honor one is going to be pretty awesome.”

No doubt she would knock it out of the park. She exuded a confidence that had to come from being successful at a thing or two.

“I’ll do that,” he said, knowing full well he’d wing it when the time came.

“Good. I’ll see you around.”

She started to go and Charlie panicked. “Nightingale, hold up.”

She stopped and her eyebrows arched while she waited for him to continue.

He didn’t have anything else to say. His mind went blank, then filled with things he couldn’t possibly do. He wanted to take her by the hand and pull her out of this busy hospital. He wanted to walk the city’s streets and find out what she loved about it. He wanted to know what she put on her hot dog and who she thought had the best pizza.

“Did you want something or are you planning on just smiling at me like that? Because it’s borderline creepy and I really need to get back to work.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

Charlie felt himself smile bigger. “Do you want to meet up sometime?”

“What?” Emma and Diane said at the same time.

“I mean, I heard you were planning the wedding, and I thought, since I’m the best man and you’re the maid of honor, maybe we could get together and talk about what would make Kendall and Max happy.”

Emma’s chin dropped. “You want to help plan my sister’s wedding?”

She made that idea sound weird. He didn’t want to seem weird. So he shifted the blame. “Max asked me to talk to you. I think he wants to make sure he has some say in all of this.”

“He thinks I’m not going to include him? I plan on checking with both of them before I do anything,” she said defensively, stepping back in his direction. “It’s their wedding. Of course he’ll have a say.”

Charlie wanted to kick himself for offending her. He tried again to backpedal. “No, of course he thinks you’ll involve him. I think he thought...I think we both thought it would be nice of me to help you out so you didn’t have to do it all on your own.”

Emma smiled, hopefully because she thought he was endearing and not a moron. “That’s really sweet, but I have it all under control.” Again, she started to leave.

“I have a few ideas, though.” He had no ideas, but desperation took over. Who knew getting her to agree to one meeting would be so tough. He watched as she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Was he annoying her? That was the last thing he wanted.

“I’m off tomorrow.”

Relief flooded his body. “Me, too,” he said, barely believing his luck.

“I’ll be in touch, then.”

“Perfect.”

“Fletcher,” Serena said as she came back into the ER. “We have to go.”

He acknowledged her with a nod before smiling at a retreating Emma. “See you tomorrow, Nightingale.”


CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_638255fb-1af7-5925-8c9d-7afa35f9b019)

EMMA WENT STRAIGHT to Kendall’s house after work, hoping her sister would have an explanation for her fiancé’s distrust. Did Max really think she wasn’t going to plan a wedding with both him and Kendall in mind? He really thought he needed to send his best man to watch over her?

She knocked but walked in before anyone could answer. “Anybody home?” she shouted from the foyer. Kendall’s house was Emma’s home away from home. It was a cozy little two-story that, thanks to Kendall, was always warm and inviting.

Simon came running from the family room. “Aunt Emma, guess what?” His sock feet caused him to slide across the wooden floor when he tried to stop.

She put her hands out to catch him before he ran into her. “What?”

He smiled and she could see that one of his front teeth was growing in and one had just fallen out. The kid had a constant gap. “At school today, I got to say the Pledge of Allegiance over the intercom.”

“You did?”

Simon nodded proudly. “The principal said I did such a good job, I can do it every Monday if I want.”

“That is so cool.” It was more than cool, but it was a rule not to freak out too much when Simon spoke in public. He suffered from an anxiety disorder called selective mutism, which made it difficult for him to speak to or in front of other people. He went to a therapeutic school that had been helping him immensely. Every day Kendall said she saw improvements.

“Want to see what I drew at school? Mom said we can frame it.”

“Of course I do.” Emma took his hand and was dragged back to the kitchen where Kendall was cleaning up dinner.

“Hey, there,” Kendall said, drying the dishes. “If I knew you were coming over, I would have saved you a plate. You want me to heat something up?”

Emma waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. I ate on my break. I heard someone got to say the Pledge at school today.”

Pride shone in Kendall’s eyes. “I heard that, too.”

“Look at my picture,” Simon said, recapturing her attention and handing her his drawing. In colored pencil, he had sketched a heartwarming picture of his soon-to-be family. There were Max and Kendall, holding hands with each other and with their respective sons. Simon had paid careful attention to the details, even giving Max the five-o’clock shadow the man was so fond of. Her nephew was extremely talented for his young age and so much like his mother. Kendall had always been the most creative member of the family, painting masterpieces at Simon’s age. Emma’s artistic ability was limited to being able to stay within the lines of her coloring books.

“This is a beautiful picture of your family, buddy. No wonder Mom wants to frame it.”

Simon took the paper back. “I’m gonna take a picture with the iPad and send it to Max so he can see it now.”

“Remember he’s at work,” Kendall called after him as he raced out of the room. “If he doesn’t text back, it’s because he’s busy. Don’t send a million texts!” She finished putting the last dish away and turned to her sister. “One night, he texted Max something like a hundred times. Most were just Max’s name over and over. Max got back to his office and saw all these texts from our house. He didn’t read back far enough to see it was just Simon, so he called here in a panic because he was worried something was wrong. I was putting Simon to bed and didn’t answer the phone. Max assumed the worst, left work, came here and scared the crap out of me by busting into the house screaming for me and Simon.”

Emma laughed. “Whoops.”

“Yeah.” Kendall chuckled, too. “At least I know he really cares, right?”

“Speaking of Max caring, what’s up with him sending his best man to spy on my wedding planning?”

“What?” Kendall seemed genuinely surprised.

Emma took a seat at the kitchen table. “Charlie showed up at the hospital today and informed me Max asked him to be his best man and also asked himto talk to me about the wedding planning. Like he’s afraid I’m going to do something without checking with you two first.”

“Honestly, I didn’t even know he was going to ask Charlie to be his best man.” Kendall sat down next to her. “I don’t think he’s spying on you.”

“Why else would he ask Charlie to meet with me to go over the plans?”

Kendall shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t want you to feel like you had to do it all by yourself. Maybe he wants you to have a guy’s perspective when you start making plans. He never mentioned any of this to me, so I have no idea.”

Whatever Max’s reasoning was, it meant nothing but trouble for Emma. What did Charlie know about planning a wedding? What “ideas” was he looking forward to sharing?

Kendall and Max wanted to have a short engagement, which was why they’d been thinking about simply eloping at city hall. Emma had promised to come up with a church wedding that would stay small. She had no intentions of making this into some sort of monster wedding. Was that what Max thought?

“I’ll run some of my ideas by Charlie tomorrow to make Max feel better, but after that, I don’t need the interference. Not if you want to get married over the Fourth of July.”

“I don’t think Charlie is going to give you a hard time. Be nice to him.”

“I’ll be nice.”

“But not too nice. I think Charlie likes you a little. I’d hate for him to think you’re one of those nurses who dates paramedics.”

“Actually, you’d be amazed by how many nurses date cops. I don’t know what it is, but the ladies in my ER love the Chicago PD.”

“But not you, huh?” Kendall knew all about Emma’s life plan. Unlike Lucy, she didn’t usually treat Emma as if she was nuts for thinking she could map out her whole life. Kendall was the sister Emma could tell anything to and not feel she would be judged.

“Nope, not me.” Emma rested her chin on her folded hands and stared off dreamily. “I have my heart set on the handsome new doctor starting next week.”

“Oh, do tell.” Her sister leaned closer.

It was too early to gossip. Emma hadn’t even formally met him yet. Still, she knew he was the one. He fit perfectly in her plans.

“He’s the one I’ve been waiting for, I can just tell.”

“Yeah? He’s the one?”

Emma always got what she wanted, and sticking to her plan was the only way to prevent disaster. The last time she even thought about deterring from the plan, bad things had happened. “He’s got to be.”

The phone rang and Kendall jumped up to answer it. Emma could tell by the smile on Kendall’s face that it was Max calling.

“I know, isn’t it the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen? I told him we could frame it.” She paused to listen. “Emma’s here, by the way. She wants to know why you asked Charlie to help her with the wedding plans.”

All of a sudden, Kendall’s eyes widened and she turned her back, piquing Emma’s interest. Emma strode over and tried to overhear, but Kendall pushed her away.

“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it. We should talk about this. I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” Kendall said to Max.

“What did you know? What’s not a good idea?” Emma asked, trying again to hear what he was saying. Kendall ran out of the room. Emma followed. “What is he saying?”

Kendall swatted at her sister as she attempted to take the phone away. “She’s trying to get the phone,” she explained to Max. “Cut it out, Emma. I will pinch you if you don’t stop it.” Just like when they were children and only had one cordless phone in a house full of adolescent girls, Emma was undeterred by her sister’s warning and wrestled it away.

“What’s not a good idea?” Emma asked Max. “Why did you tell Charlie to meet with me?”

“Hi, Em. How are you tonight?”

“Don’t ‘Hi, Em’ me. What is not a good idea?”

“I was telling Kendall I really have to get back to work. Charlie just wants to help out. He’s my friend. Be nice.”

“Be nice? I’m always nice. That doesn’t answer my question. What is not a good idea?”

“Gotta go. Tell Kendall I’ll call when I get home.”

“Don’t you—” Max hung up “—hang up on me,” Emma said to no one. She turned on her sister. “What was that about?”

Kendall swallowed hard, a sure sign she was about to lie. “Nothing. He’s worried this wedding is going to take on a life of its own.”

“And Charlie is supposed to do what? Keep me from letting things get out of control?”

“No,” Kendall insisted. “We appreciate everything you’re doing. We’re both swamped and there’s no way we could plan a wedding without help.”

“But?”

“But nothing. I know you. You are going to give me the best wedding a girl could ask for. But even without planning it, this is overwhelming. Bear with us, okay?”

There was still something her sister wasn’t saying. Maybe Kendall believed in her, but Max was another story. Emma was going to show both of them. She was going to help them have the wedding of their dreams, with very little stress to show for it. Even if she had to share credit with Charlie Fletcher.

* * *

AFTER GOING BACK and forth about where to meet, Charlie and Emma settled on the Chi-Town Chilly Cow Ice-Cream Shop or, as Emma and her sisters called it, the Triple C. It was an Everhart family favorite.

“I’ll take a double scoop of the blackberry with some fresh strawberries and a small squirt of whipped cream.”

“You are definitely a woman who knows what she likes, Nightingale,” Charlie said as he continued to study the menu board.

“I’ve been here a few times,” she explained with a smile.

The young man behind the counter made Emma’s sundae and went to ring her up. She stopped him before he entered anything into the register.

“Oh, I’m Lucy Everhart. There’s a note back there that says I get all my ice cream free.”

Lucy had helped the original owners by pushing them to go organic and making the Triple C extremely profitable in the Lincoln Park area. As a thank-you, the owners told Lucy she would get free ice cream for life. Only, Lucy didn’t eat ice cream, organic or not. She didn’t do dairy. Emma didn’t see why someone shouldn’t benefit from Lucy’s good fortune.

Charlie looked amused but didn’t give her up. Instead, he tried to get in on the action. “Does that free deal cover the ice cream for friends of Lucy Everhart, as well?”

Emma licked some whipped cream off her spoon. “Sorry, Charlie. The discount is for me and me alone.”

“Aren’t you a Lucky Lucy?”

“Oh, I am,” she said, diving into her sundae.

After he paid for his treat, the two of them settled in a booth in the back of the shop. Emma had brought along a notebook to jot down whatever ideas Charlie was here to share. She already had a binder full of all her own ideas separated into categories—ceremony, reception, bride, bridesmaids, groom, groomsmen.

She started with her thoughts on day and time. Charlie thought having the wedding on a Friday was brilliant. She flipped the page to the reception ideas, all of which Charlie felt were amazing. She figured he wouldn’t have much of an opinion about what the women wore but told him what she was thinking in regard to the tuxes, and Charlie was happy to wear whatever.

Basically, Charlie had no opinion at all. He thought everything Emma said was fantastic. It didn’t seem to matter what idea she proposed; he liked them all. It strengthened her belief that he was here to spy, not to actually help.

“You really put a lot of thought into this,” Charlie said, flipping through the binder. “Do you only plan weddings? My dad’s retiring in June and my sister wants to have a party for him. We could use someone as organized as you to get the thing off the ground.”

“I’m not a party planner. I love my sister, and the last time she got married, I was in college and had no time to be much help.”

“It’s cool that you and Kendall are so close. I come from a big family, spread out all over the country. I can’t remember the last time we were all under one roof.”

“Maybe you will be for your dad’s retirement party,” Emma suggested.

“Maybe. Having all my sisters together can sometimes be more trouble than it’s worth. You and your sister seem to get along better than mine ever did.”

“Did you guys grow up in Chicago?”

“Northern suburbs, near the Wisconsin border. Ever been to Six Flags Great America?”

“Only every summer until I was about twenty.” Going to the amusement park once a year was one of her favorite childhood memories. Emma loved roller coasters and rides that made her stomach drop. One advantage to being so tall was getting to ride them with her sisters even though they were older than her.

“I grew up just a couple miles away. Worked there in the summers when I was in high school.”

“Wow, that makes working at the grocery store as a teenager seem really boring.”

“It was a pretty fun job. The best job I ever had, though, was at a pancake house while I was training to be a paramedic. My pancake-flipping skills are top-notch. I make perfect pancakes.”

This was why everyone found him so endearing. His quirkiness was a refreshing change from guys who spent all their time telling a woman how much money they made and how fast their car went. Emma liked that he wasn’t really full of himself and his attitude toward life in general was always so positive.

“I’m impressed by this, honestly,” she said. Emma had grown up in a house where her father made pancakes for the girls every Sunday. The first batch was always a mess and every pancake was usually burned on at least one side.

“But enough about me. Let’s talk about you,” Charlie said.

“Aren’t we here to talk about Max and Kendall’s wedding?” The point of this meeting was making less and less sense as it went on. She had let him distract her from their reason for getting together.

“Yes. Let’s talk about the wedding. Are you bringing a date?”

“What does that have to do with the wedding plans?”

Charlie shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I wasn’t sure if the maid of honor and best man should bring dates or not. I was thinking of coming alone so I don’t shirk any of my responsibilities.”

She was beginning to believe he had no ideas. That this whole meeting was a setup so he could report back to Max. “Well, I do plan on bringing a date, and I will still make sure everything goes off without a hitch. Max has nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, yeah. I mean...” He shook his head. “I wasn’t implying you wouldn’t be able to help. Max isn’t worried, either.” Charlie’s face fell. “So you’re bringing your boyfriend or something, huh?”

Emma blew out a frustrated breath. “I thought you said you had some ideas for this wedding. Isn’t that why we’re here?”

“It is. I do,” Charlie insisted, finally dropping the Twenty Questions. “I was thinking about the boys.”

“The boys?”

“Simon and Aidan. It would be nice if we found a way to include them in the ceremony. My oldest sister did this thing at her wedding. It was a second marriage for both her and my brother-in-law and they both had kids from their previous relationships. So, instead of lighting a unity candle, they had the kids come up and they all filled this vase with different-colored sand. It symbolized the blending of the two families into one. The boys would like that, don’t you think?”

That was actually a really good idea. So good, Emma couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it herself. She’d totally forgotten about incorporating the boys into the ceremony aside from having them be ring bearers. She wrote down the sand-art idea in her notebook.

“I love that. They love those kids more than anything.”

Charlie seemed to sigh with relief. “I’m glad you like it. I thought since Max had them help propose, it was something to consider.”

“Did your sister do anything else? Maybe at the reception?”

“I don’t remember. I can ask her. I’m sure she’s got some other tips.”

“All right, sounds good.” She closed up her notebook and slipped it and her wedding binder into her giant tote bag. She planned to sneak over to her parents’ so her mom would invite her to stay for dinner. For Emma, there was nothing worse about being single than having to cook for one. “I think we’re done here. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Wait,” he said as she began to slide out of the booth. “We’re done?”

Emma laughed. What more could they possibly talk about? How much he liked every idea she had? How excellent she was at picking out the perfect colors for a summer wedding? Maybe he could tell her one more time that she should be getting paid for this. Or perhaps he’d start in on the personal questions again.

“You agreed with everything I had to say,” she told him. “You made this meeting super easy and fast. Now we have the rest of the day to ourselves. Good work.”

He didn’t seem so excited about it. “Yeah, great job, Charlie,” he muttered.


CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_3d55ccee-bc08-51fc-8e12-7a3f5befb4ac)

THE FIREHOUSE DINING ROOM had two banquet-size tables butted up against one another to make enough room for all the hungry firefighters and paramedics on duty. Charlie and a bunch of the guys from the house were hanging out, reading the paper and making small talk.

The station’s rookie/probie was bending Lieutenant Kyle Keller’s ear about his most recent date. “I just don’t get it. I thought we had a great time, but she hasn’t returned my calls or answered any of my texts.”

“Something tells me your definition of a great time and a woman’s definition of a great time are two very different things.”

A few guys at the table laughed. One of the other firefighters joined in. “Jones thinks dinner at a burger joint and a couple hours at an arcade is a great night.”

“Be quiet, Alvarez. Arcades can be a ton of fun,” Jones argued as the entire room erupted in laughter.

Lieutenant Keller shook his head. “I hate to break it to you, Jones, but there may be plenty of first dates in your future but absolutely zero second ones.”

Probies were usually on the receiving end of a lot of teasing, but Jones had a way of saying and doing things that made him the biggest target of all. He looked to Serena, the only female at Station 22. “Hayes, you’re a woman. Help me out here.”

“Why do I think I’m going to regret this?” she grumbled from behind the Chicago Tribune.

“You’d have fun at an arcade, wouldn’t you?”

She peered over her newspaper at him. “Did you really take some poor girl to the arcade? What was she, ten years old?”

“Come on! It was a fun date!”

Charlie chuckled. Even he knew better than to take a woman to the arcade on a first date. He also had success getting many second dates. What he didn’t know was how to become more than just a date.

Emma was bringing adate to the wedding. The disappointment this created in Charlie weighed down his usually buoyant mood even now, days later. He tried to focus on the positives: she had liked his idea for the wedding and there had been no confirmation of a boyfriend, only a date.

There was still hope.

Charlie didn’t simply want to date Emma. He wanted to be that someone who made her lose track of time, the guy she’d want to spend the day with no matter what her other plans were. That meant he needed to be interesting instead of some boring pushover who had basically complimented her right out the door.

“I’d love to know what women want,” he said aloud unintentionally.

More than a few heads swung in Charlie’s direction.

“Fletcher needs dating advice?” Jones asked. “Since when?”

Pete O’Reilly, the shift’s cook, set a plate of brownies on the table that were snatched up in a matter of seconds. He was happily married to a gorgeous woman, who he claimed was an even better cook than he was. In fact, the two of them ran a catering business together when he wasn’t cooking for this motley crew. The O’Reillys had three adorable kids and somehow managed to keep the romance alive after fifteen years of marriage. Everyone—except Alvarez, the eternal bachelor—wanted to be as lucky as O’Reilly someday.

“Who you got your eye on?” Pete asked Charlie while everyone else was busy devouring their dessert. “Is it that blonde you were talking to at Duke’s last week?”

“I bet he’s planning to make a move on that new paramedic at 55,” another firefighter guessed. A discussion erupted over how distracting her good looks had been at the softball game last week.

Serena folded her paper up and set it on the table. “My money’s on a tall brunette who works at Saint Joe’s.”

The room fell silent and Charlie’s jaw dropped. “How did you know that?”

Serena rolled her eyes. “If you had seen yourself the other day, you would not be asking me that question. I had never witnessed a tongue-tied Charlie Fletcher before then. It was very entertaining.”

No one could believe it. If there was one thing everyone knew about Charlie, it was that he could talk to anyone. He made friends with people who were just walking down the same street. That was who Charlie was. He was everyone’s friend. Didn’t matter if you were eight or eighty, a drop-dead gorgeous waitress or a wrinkly old retiree. Charlie would talk your ear off.

“Fletcher at a loss for words? I would’ve loved to have seen that,” Alvarez said.

Everyone wanted to know who this tall brunette was. They began badgering Serena for her name and any other details she could remember. Luckily for Charlie, Serena wasn’t a gossip. She wouldn’t say anything.

“Come on, give us something!” Jones pleaded.

“She’s a nurse in the ER and that’s all you guys are getting,” Charlie said. “I tell you a name and the next thing I know, she’ll be getting provocative gifts sent to Saint Joe’s claiming to be from me.”

“You know us so well,” Alvarez admitted.

O’Reilly waved his hand dismissively. “Sounds like you’ve got nothing to worry about, Charlie. The nurses over at Saint Joe’s love you.”

“Like Fletcher ever has problems getting a date,” Jones said with a hint of jealousy. “Women think he’s so funny.”

“Aw, don’t feel bad, Jones,” Alvarez consoled him. “Women think you’re funny, too. I mean, they’re laughing at you, but they sure think you’re hilarious.”

Jones stood up and puffed out his chest, challenging Alvarez to “bring it.” Alvarez rose to his feet, ready to do just that. The lieutenant barked at them both to sit down and knock it off. They both did as they were told, but Charlie saw Jones mouth that this wasn’t over.

Charlie had learned over the years that firefighters were no different than brothers. They teased one another relentlessly but would lay down their lives for each other without a second thought.

The alarm sounded, effectively putting an end to fun time. Everyone scattered to gear up. Charlie got the information from dispatch regarding the nature of the call and location. Serena made sure the ambulance was properly loaded and jumped into the driver’s seat.

“So, what’s up with you and this nurse?”

Charlie belted himself in. “Emma’s my buddy’s soon-to-be sister-in-law. I have a little crush, but I think she’s already spoken for.”

“Married?”

“No, but she plans to bring a date to the wedding.”

“Well, then, unless they’re engaged, she’s still up for grabs. A nice guy like you shouldn’t have much trouble convincing her to give you a shot.”

“I don’t know about that. The last two women I dated broke up with me because I’m supposedly too nice. Then there were the ones who didn’t want to settle down with a guy who didn’t aspire to be more than, and I quote, ‘an ambulance driver.’”

Serena made a sharp left as she followed the fire truck in the lead. There was nothing she hated more than being called an ambulance driver. As if riding in an ambulance was akin to taking a taxi. “Who said that? That teacher you were dating?”

“That’s the one.”

“Don’t you listen to a word that woman had to say. She was all wrong for you. I could have told you that after ten minutes of talking to her. She also shouldn’t work in a school. She hates children. She shouldn’t settle down with anyone.”

Charlie couldn’t argue with Serena’s impression of Jenny, the fifth-grade teacher he’d dated for over two months. She was cute and funny, but not the most compassionate soul he’d ever met.

“Emma’s not like Jenny. I think she falls more in the first category—unimpressed with nice guys. We’re helping plan the wedding for her sister and my friend. I tried to be agreeable about everything, but somehow that didn’t seem to win her over. I got the sense she didn’t find my cooperativeness very interesting.”

“Your cooperativeness?” Serena laughed. “Oh, Charlie. You can’t agree with everything the woman says.”

“What is wrong with agreeing with a woman? Don’t women love to be right? You love being right. Wouldn’t you like it if a guy told you that you were?”

“I like being right, but where’s the fun in it if the guy never tries being wrong?”

Charlie wasn’t following.

“Most women like a challenge, partner. They want to be right, but only after they’ve had to fight for it a little bit. What’s the point of being right if no one disagrees with you? How do you gloat if the guy was on the same page all along?”

Now he saw her point. “So you’re saying arguing is a turn-on?”

“I’m saying no one wants a guy who has no opinion. Be a nice man, but be a man.”

She’d given him a lot to think about. He’d have to ponder it all later, though. They pulled up to their destination, an older home on a street that was filled with an equal mix of rebuilds and soon-to-be teardowns. Flashy million-dollar condos stood next to run-down single-family homes that were in desperate need of a new coat of paint. This one could use some work, but the owner obviously cared about appearances. There were several flower boxes of vibrant red-and-purple petunias hanging from the front porch.

Several people had congregated outside the house, standing on the sidewalk and gawking at the smoke billowing out a back window. A young man sat on the curb next to an older woman who was rubbing his back as he rocked with eyes closed and his hands over his ears. The call was to put out a reported kitchen fire. The firefighters went in to check it out while Charlie and Serena planned to attend to any residents who had been inside.

The woman on the curb jumped up as they approached, explaining that her autistic son had been making lunch when something caught fire. The smoke alarm had frightened the teenager and he’d become agitated. She’d struggled to get him out of the house, which had allowed the fire to spread out of her control. She was worried about the amount of smoke they had inhaled.

“What’s his name, ma’am?” Charlie asked as Serena checked the woman’s pulse and monitored her breathing.

“Brian,” she replied. Her voice trembled and her hands shook. “I don’t know how to help him when he gets like this. It’s so hard to help him.”

“We’re here to help you both,” Charlie said to reassure her. He approached Brian slowly. “Hi, Brian. My name’s Charlie.”

Brian didn’t respond. His hands stayed clamped over his ears. The blaring sirens probably hadn’t helped his state of mind any. Charlie crouched down so they were eye level and attempted to gauge the young man’s condition without touching him. He was wheezing a little bit, but there didn’t seem to be anything obstructing his airway.

“I know all this is pretty overwhelming, but I heard you were in the kitchen with all that smoke. I’m going to check your pulse, so I have to touch you on the wrist. Okay?”

Again, there was no answer from the boy, but his mom nodded her head when Charlie looked to her for permission. Cautiously, Charlie reached for Brian’s hand. Serena opened the blood pressure cuff at the same time, the sound of Velcro separating startling Brian. He reacted violently, kicking his legs and flailing his arms. Charlie took a strong left hook to the jaw.

“Leave me alone!” Brian cried before coughing uncontrollably.

Serena came over to help. Her voice was quiet but firm. “Brian, we’re paramedics here to help you. You inhaled some smoke. I need you to calm down.”

Charlie could taste the blood in his mouth. His teeth had bitten into his cheek and his jaw was throbbing. Brian’s mom tried to bring him under control, but he would not be subdued. Charlie gathered his wits and went to his bag for a sedative. For the safety of everyone involved, they had no option but to give Brian a shot. Within seconds, the teen was docile and his eyelids heavy.

“I’m so sorry,” his mom said over and over. “He’s not a violent person. He’s a sweet boy.”

Charlie assured her he was unhurt and that she didn’t have to apologize. Now that the boy was relaxed, they could move Brian to a stretcher and give him some oxygen.

“That was some hit. You sure you’re okay?” Serena asked Charlie, taking a look in his mouth to assess the damage.

“I’m fine.”

Serena touched his tender jaw then tried to get a second glance inside her partner’s mouth, but he lifted his chin so she couldn’t see anything but his neck.

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “We should bring them both in.”

As they loaded mother and son into the ambulance, Charlie focused on the potential of seeing Emma at the hospital. It was the only bright spot in a less-than-stellar day.

* * *

AT THE HOSPITAL, the triage nurse got Brian and his mom settled in. Charlie stood at the nurses’ station, icing his jaw while Serena helped him fill out the paperwork to document his injury. He should have known better than to approach Brian when the boy was under that much duress.

“I heard not even Mike Tyson could have taken that kid,” a voice said from behind.

Charlie turned to find his Nightingale standing there in her navy scrubs. Her hair was down but pinned up in the front. Her cheeks and lips were a rosy red, and even though she’d probably been on her feet for several hours, she looked incredible.

“I’m a lover not a fighter. I didn’t stand a chance.” It sort of hurt to smile, but he did it, anyway. The smile she gave him back was worth all the pain.

“Ah, you’re a pacifist. Good to know. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

Serena clearly couldn’t stop herself from butting in. “He keeps saying that, but he didn’t see the kid’s fist hit his face.”

“No, but I felt it. I think I should know if I’m fine or not,” he said defensively. Serena had told him to act like a man, but she was making it next to impossible. Charlie didn’t mind when people called him a gentle giant, but he didn’t want to look as if he couldn’t take a hit.

“Do you want me to check you out real quick? Make sure you don’t need any stitches or anything?” Emma offered. “That’s quite a bruise you’ve got already.” Her hand reached up and gently caressed his aching jaw. Her touch soothed better than the world’s greatest balm.

“Maybe you should take a look,” he relented, opting to take advantage of every second he could get with her.

“Come sit over here.” She led him into a small care room where she shone a light in his mouth. Her proximity made him feel a little light-headed. At least he hoped it was her and not the punch to the face. She smelled clean, like soap and baby powder.

“I don’t think you need stitches, but I can grab a doctor if you want me to,” she offered.

“No, I’m good.”

She gave him a cup of water to clean out his mouth. Charlie couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. She had a little mole on her collarbone and the thickest eyelashes he’d ever seen. Her eyes were brown but edged in green. They were so unusual and completely mesmerizing.

“Do you want something for the pain?”

“Nah. Thanks for taking care of me, though,” he said. “I’m not used to being the patient.”

“I’m terrible about it, too. I think people in health care make the worst patients. But you’ve been pretty good. I’d treat you again.”

She picked up his ice pack and pressed it carefully against his jaw. He flinched from the coldness.

“Does that hurt?” Emma pulled the pack away. The worry in those gorgeous eyes warmed Charlie’s cheeks right up. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, just cold.” Charlie reached over and pressed her hand and the ice pack back against his face. She was so close that it made his heart beat faster. Thank goodness he wasn’t hooked up to any machines that would’ve given him away.

Serena stepped into the room. “We got another call. Is he going to live?”

Emma smiled as she slipped her hand out from underneath his. “He’s going to be fine.”

Charlie wondered if he would be fine. Emma had a date to the wedding. This date could be a boyfriend. And even though he’d never met the guy, Charlie hated his guts. It was completely irrational for so many reasons. One being that he barely knew Emma. This crush was bigger than any he’d ever experienced, and if he didn’t have a chance with her, it had the potential to crush him.

“He might need to come up with a better story than getting punched by a kid to explain that bruise, though. Something tells me the guys at the firehouse are not going to be very sympathetic,” Emma said.

Truer words had never been spoken. It was bad enough that he had to fight for respect in the firehouse because he had chosen to be a paramedic and not a firefighter; the latter were always seen as being the “braver” of the two professions. Charlie was going to take a verbal beating over this incident. That kid couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and twenty-five pounds soaking wet. He’d be hearing about this for months. At least until Jones did something stupid. Now that he thought about it, maybe he’d be off the hook sooner than later.

“Maybe I staged the whole thing just to be taken care of by the lovely Nightingale.”

Emma’s face turned red and she laughed in an attempt to mask the embarrassment. “Good one.”

“See you around.” Charlie hopped off the bed and followed Serena down the hall and out of the ER.

“Your Nurse Nightingale is nothing like Mean Teacher. I think this one has got potential,” Serena said as they got to the ambulance.

Charlie was happy to get her approval but couldn’t resist giving her a hard time. “You better watch out, Serqueena. Nicknaming people is my thing.”

Serena gave him a look that could kill. “Call me that again and you’re going to have to explain to the guys back at the house how you got beat up by a kid and a woman all in the same day.”

Charlie could only smile. Just like the firefighters, he and Serena were family. She would most definitely give him her right hook if he kept it up, and he wouldn’t hesitate to give his life for hers.


CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_185d1a51-c01c-5718-8ab8-9b0d5191e84e)

TODAY WAS THE DAY. Dr. Spencer was starting in the Saint Joseph’s ER this morning. All Emma had to do was make a good first impression and she knew the rest would work itself out. It always did. When she stuck to her plan, everything else simply fell into place.

“Have you seen him yet?” Tammy asked as she approached the nurses’ station. Tammy, another nurse on duty, was married and had two sons, one in high school and the other in college. She often lamented that Emma wasn’t a few years younger so she could marry one of her boys.

A silly-girl grin found its way to Emma’s face. “Not yet.”

“Who are we talking about?” Tessa set down her tablet and her eyes moved back and forth from Tammy to Emma.

“If you must know, Dr. Gavin, I’ve finally accepted that Emma is too old to be my daughter-in-law, so I am here to see to it that she finds herself a gorgeous, intelligent, wealthy man to settle down with. I believe our newest doc fits the bill,” Tammy answered with a wink.

“My new intern? Oh, Em! Don’t let her talk you into marrying a doctor. We’re horrible creatures, really. Find yourself a nice plumber or maybe a sweet schoolteacher.”

If all doctors treated their significant others the way Tessa treated her boyfriends, Emma would have taken the risk and changed her plans. Thankfully, Tessa was the exception to the rule. Therefore, she would not be deterred.

Grace, the nursing assistant on duty, joined the conversation. “Oh, I think Emma should get together with that paramedic who’s always here. He is one tall drink of water.”

“Charlie?” Emma could only laugh at such a suggestion. Charlie Fletcher was...Charlie. Granted, he was handsome and completely adorable, but he was the guy who lived below Max, the guy who gave everyone silly nicknames, the guy who was helping her plan Kendall’s wedding because Max didn’t trust her. Spy Charlie was not her favorite.

“Oh, I know who you’re talking about,” Tammy said, nodding and waggling her eyebrows.

“Why are you nodding? Stop nodding,” Emma demanded. She was not going to date Charlie. That was not the plan.

Grace sighed. “He’s so totally charming. Did you hear him tell the story about delivering that baby a couple weeks ago? He was amazing.”

“Paramedics usually know how to have a good time,” Tessa added, twirling her pen around her fingers. “Maybe I need to date him. What’s his name again?”

Emma’s stomach knotted up. The thought of Tessa getting anywhere near Charlie made her want to wrestle her to the ground. That was an unexpected feeling, one she wasn’t about to give any credence to, so she quickly pushed it aside.

“Knowing Charlie the way I do, I’d say he’d be a better fit for someone like Grace,” she said, fully aware that Grace had a boyfriend—a serious boyfriend who had taken her to look at engagement rings last month.

“Don’t tease me.” Grace pulled on Emma’s ponytail before leaving to check on a patient.

“You know the cute paramedic?” Tessa’s interest in Charlie was bothersome, and that in and of itself was even more bothersome. Charlie could date whomever he wanted. It shouldn’t matter to Emma one bit.

“He’s my sister’s fiancé’s friend. I think he’s a little too nice for you. He’s...like our favorite psych resident.” It was a lie, but very effective in chasing Tessa away.

“Well, never mind, then,” she said with a disgusted expression. “Did you recognize the guy who supposedly threw his back out sneezing? I feel like I’ve seen him before. I swear he’s the guy who wanted pain meds for some other injury not too long ago.”

Emma had thought the same thing and did some digging. It wasn’t unusual for drug-seeking patients to use the emergency room to get their fix.

“His records show he was here three months ago complaining of shoulder pain, and four months before that, he was here because of a shooting pain down his leg. No diagnosis—he was given pain meds and a referral.”

“Suspicious,” Tessa said. “I’m going to give him my speech about the ER not being the best place for pain management and offer him some Tylenol.” She went to check on him, leaving the two nurses alone.

“I saw what you did there,” Tammy said knowingly.

“What?” Emma feigned obliviousness.

“The paramedic likes you, too.”

Did he? She shook it off. It didn’t matter. “I am not interested in Charlie,” she insisted.

Paramedics hadn’t made the cut as her perfect mate because their job was a little too risky for Emma’s liking. Paramedics were right up there with firefighters and police officers in terms of on-the-job danger. Emma wanted someone whose career didn’t put him in harm’s way. A punch in the jaw from an autistic teenager was nothing, but paramedics in the city of Chicago dealt with much scarier things than that.

Tammy threw her hands up. “Whatever you say. Maybe you were just being a good friend. Lord knows I wouldn’t let Dr. Gavin within a hundred yards of my boys.”

That was it. She was being a good friend. Emma could absolutely be friends with Charlie. There were no rules against that. Being friends wouldn’t interfere with her well-laid plans.

Emma’s next patient was a five-year-old boy who had fallen off a park swing and possibly broken his arm. His father had brought him in and seemed rather anxious. He kept checking his phone, unable to sit still.

The little boy’s name was Oliver Grady, and he reminded Emma of her nephew. She got him settled in an exam room and put in the request for an X-ray. While they waited, she blew up a latex glove and drew a smiley face on it.

“Can you hold on to this with your good hand?” she asked Oliver, who nodded with tear-stained cheeks. “Whatever I do to you, I’ll do to Mr. Smiley first, so you can see that it won’t hurt, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Watch this.” She put on her stethoscope and pressed the chest piece against the makeshift puppet and pretended to listen carefully. “See, he didn’t pop. Let’s try you.” She listened to the little boy’s heartbeat, which slowed as he relaxed. “Good job.”

“Ollie’s very brave, aren’t you, bud?” Mr. Grady stood beside the bed and gently swept the boy’s hair out of his eyes. “I could use some of that bravery for when his mom gets here. She’s going to kill me.”

“Accidents happen, right?”

“Not when my ex-wife is in charge of him. Accidents are always my fault.” He ran his hand through his hair as his phone beeped with a text. He checked it and held it up for Emma to see. “Told you she was going to kill me.”

That was exactly what the text said. She planned to kill him when she got to the hospital. Angry exes in the ER were never a good thing. Emma made a mental note to ask the intake nurse to give her a heads-up when Oliver’s mom arrived.

“We’ll make sure everyone survives this trip to the emergency room,” she promised. “Now, Oliver, I need you to do one thing for me while we wait for an X-ray.” She grabbed the bag of ice she had brought in with her and set it on top of the blown-up glove. “Mr. Smiley can handle a little ice. I bet you can, too.”

The boy cringed and tightly squeezed his eyes shut as she lifted the bag and set it gently on his swollen and most likely broken arm. His face relaxed and his eyes opened. “That doesn’t hurt,” he said with obvious surprise.

“I knew you could handle it.” Emma smiled and ruffled his hair. “I’ll be right back, tough guy.”

The best thing to do was avoid trouble before trouble happened. Emma went out to the waiting area to follow up with the intake nurse. Unfortunately, it appeared that Oliver’s mom was already there. Perhaps what gave her away was the woman’s insistence that she be allowed to see her son “this second or else.” Or maybe it was her threats to press charges against her ex-husband for neglect.

“I can take her back,” Emma offered. “Her son is waiting for an X-ray.”

The intake nurse was more than happy to pass the irate woman off. Even the people waiting in the family-and-patient room seemed relieved to see her go.

Emma tried to appeal to the more rational side of the former Mrs. Grady that had to be dwelling somewhere inside. “He’s been very brave and is resting comfortably. We see so many kids this time of year who get carried away at the park or fall off a bike—it’s really not that unusual. He’s going to be fine, but it’s really important that we keep him calm.”

“This never would have happened if it weren’t for his father’s inability to do anything right,” she snapped.

Clearly, she was not going to let her ex off the hook so easily. Emma would have to be more direct. “I understand you’re worried, but Oliver needs to know everything is okay. He needs his parents to get along while we do our best to get him fixed up.”

“I think I know what my son needs.” The woman’s face turned red.

Emma was treading on thin ice. Instead of backing down, she smiled as sweetly as she could. “Good, because I would hate to have to escort you out of the ER after I just brought you in.” She pointed to Oliver’s room. “He’s right over there. Exam room five.”

Oliver’s mom harrumphed, but thankfully she headed into the room without any words for his dad. Satisfied that she had prevented a fight, Emma spun around to tell Tammy about her good deed but accidentally slammed into someone instead. Not just any someone. The someone.

Dr. Spencer was a pretty man. His honey-blond hair was carefully and purposely styled to look messy, and his big brown eyes exuded the perfect mix of warmth and wonder. He steadied her with his hands and began to apologize at the same time she did.

The sound of his laughter was like a gentle breeze on a warm day, exactly what she needed. “I’d give you a hard time about not watching where you’re going, but I never complain when a beautiful woman bumps into me.”

This was not how she wanted to make a first impression. Running him over wasn’t part of the plan. She tried to forget it and focus on the fact that he wasn’t bothered by her clumsiness. “I appreciate the compliment.”

His smile revealed two rows of the straightest and whitest teeth Emma had ever seen. “I appreciate the bump, Nurse—” he studied her name tag “—Everhart.”

“Well, until we bump again, Doctor.” He laughed once more and stepped around her. Heat rose up her neck to her cheeks. Her plan had been to impress him with her wit and skills. Instead, she’d been ridiculous. He had dazzled the brain right out of her head.

She watched as he pushed the sliding door to Oliver’s room open and greeted the boy’s parents. Taking a deep breath, she told herself that years from now she and Dr. Spencer would reminisce about how they’d first met by colliding outside the room of the boy with a broken arm. He’d tease her about having been so awkward and she’d admit to enjoying the contact more than she should have. They would both laugh and remember the moment fondly.

“It is your fault!” someone screamed from the examination room. “If you used your head, you would have realized he’s too little to go on the swings!”

“You treat him like a baby! He’s a boy. He likes to run around and go on the swings and get dirty.”

“That doesn’t mean he can jump off a swing eight feet in the air!”

Emma headed over to run interference. Dr. Spencer didn’t need to deal with this on his first day.

“How would you know how high he was when he jumped? You weren’t there.”

“I have witnessed your incompetence firsthand more times than I’d care to admit.”

“Oh, come on, Laurie. I’m sure you’d love to tell everyone exactly how many times I’ve screwed up. You probably have a nice long list in that briefcase of yours. Please, tell the doctor all about it!” Mr. Grady’s face was almost purple. His ex-wife was equally enraged. Poor Oliver seemed on the verge of tears, while Dr. Spencer looked absolutely shell-shocked.

“Excuse me,” Emma said as she closed the door behind her. “This is a hospital. There are very sick people here who gain nothing from hearing the two of you air out your differences in public. If you cannot keep your voices down, I will have you both removed from the emergency room. I thought I made that clear, Mrs. Grady.”

“He started it,” she replied like a child.

Mr. Grady snorted. “Seriously?”

“Believe this—I will end it.” Emma meant business. If there was one thing she didn’t tolerate in the ER, it was grown men and women behaving badly, especially when she knew they knew better. “Dr. Spencer is here to help your son, not to referee your shouting match. I suggest you let him do his job.”

The two sparring parents retreated to their corners. Dr. Spencer’s mouth hung open as he stared wide-eyed at Emma. One corner of Oliver’s lips curled up ever so slightly in a silent thank-you.

“Carry on, Dr. Spencer,” she said with a nod.

He came to his senses, a smile replacing the previous dumbfounded expression on his face. “Thank you very much, Nurse Everhart.”

Emma left the room with one more warning glance in Mrs. Grady’s direction. Mission accomplished. Dr. Spencer was thoroughly impressed. Her plan was moving along brilliantly.

* * *

AFTER WORK, Emma went straight to Kendall’s house. There was no little boy to greet her at the door. She found her sister relaxing on the couch, listening to music with her eyes closed.

“Where’s Simon?”

Hopefully, Kendall’s serenity was contagious. She didn’t bother to look at Emma when she answered. “Boys’ night out with Max and Charlie.”

“No Aidan tonight?”

“Katie said no because he’d have to stay up way past his bedtime. Max didn’t see the point in fighting over it.”

“Probably a smart move on his part.” Emma flopped down on the couch hard, causing Kendall to crack open one eye. “At least you got a nice quiet evening to yourself.”

“It was nice and quiet. Until you arrived.”

Emma snuggled up against her. “Aw, come on. I came to talk about the wedding and to tell you about finally meeting my future husband.”

Kendall perked up. “He started today, huh?”

“He did, and he is gorgeous and thinks I’m beautiful. Maybe a little scary, too.”

“Scary?”

“I may have channeled Lucy for a minute or two today.” Emma related the whole story, perhaps embellishing it here and there.

Kendall fell into a fit of laughter. That was definitely contagious. The sisters laughed until their sides ached. They were still giggling when Simon came bursting into the room, ready to tell his mom all about his night with the guys.

They had gone out to dinner and then to a hockey game, where Max bought Simon the largest pretzel he had ever seen in his entire life. It was so big, Simon had to share with Charlie.

“Don’t forget the part where Patrick Kane looked right at you and waved,” Charlie said as he and Max joined them in the family room.

Properly prompted, Simon began to tell his story in great detail. Emma tried to pay attention, but her eyes kept wandering back to Charlie as he leaned against the door frame all casual with his thick arms folded across his broad chest. His eyes were glued to her. Every time she glanced his way, his smile would spread a little wider across his face. And against her better sense, she found herself smiling back.

He always seemed so happy to see her. Like running into her was a gift he wasn’t expecting but was hoping to receive. The feelings that created in her were unfamiliar. She liked it even though she shouldn’t. Charlie was a friend. A mutual acquaintance, really. She shouldn’t have any feelings in response to him.

When Simon finally finished his story, Charlie stepped closer. “How was your day, Nightingale?”

“I had a very excellent day, thank you. In fact, I was coming to give Kendall an update about the wedding plans. It’s good you and Max are here.”

“From the Hawks to wedding planning. A man’s ultimate fantasy night.” Max’s sarcasm was unappreciated.

“You’re the one so worried about what tricks I have up my sleeve,” Emma quipped. “Or did Charlie tell you all about it already?”

“Ah, that’s not exactly a guys’-night-out conversation topic,” Max replied.

What was the point of having Charlie spy on her if he wasn’t going to report what he found out? He was either a terrible spy or Max didn’t care as much as she thought he did.

“Well, I’m sure Charlie meant to tell you that I’ve already found a great place close to the church that can accommodate us on the Friday we talked about earlier. I also found this caterer—”

“Hang on there, Nightingale,” Charlie interrupted. “I wanted to talk to you about that. I have a better idea for the caterer. Someone who comes highly recommended.”

“Highly recommended by whom?”

“Me.”

Emma’s eyebrows lifted. “You?”

“Yes. Me.”

“Who do you know that could cater an entire wedding reception?”

“A small wedding reception. More like a large family dinner,” Max clarified.

“I’ve got the perfect people for the job. They’re a husband-and-wife team. He cooks for large groups of people all the time, and she’s the best cook you’ll ever meet.”

Where was the Charlie who loved all of her ideas to the moon and back? Had that punch to the face rattled his brain?

“My caterer was referred by an actual bride and groom.”

“I think we should have another meeting to discuss this,” Charlie said. “I had nightmares about those flowers you showed me. I think we need to reassess a couple things.”

“Reassess?” Emma was baffled by this suddenly opinionated Charlie. Traumatic brain injury could cause personality changes. Maybe he wasn’t as fine as he had proclaimed to be. “Are you feeling all right?”

“I’ve also been dreaming about a sundae from the Triple C. Maybe Lucky Lucy can get a large one free and we could split it.”

A strange noise erupted from Kendall. “Have you been pretending to be Lucy again? That is so uncool!”

“Oh, please. Lucy doesn’t care. You could do it, too, if you weren’t such a goody-goody.”

“Some of us need to set a good example for impressionable children,” Kendall said, nodding toward Simon, whose interest was piqued at the mention of ice cream.

“We play a game when we go to the Triple C, right, Simon? I pretend to be Aunt Lulu and he pretends to be Spider-Man. Fun is had by all.”

Charlie and Max laughed. Kendall did not.

“You are a piece of work, Emma Elaine.”

“Elaine? Is that your middle name?” Charlie sat next to her. His proximity was as annoying as his question. He flustered her.

“It was my grandmother’s name. And why are we talking about this? We were talking about the wedding.”

“I think it’s a beautiful name. It fits you.” His sincerity disarmed her once again. She didn’t want to change the wedding plans. She had wanted to hire the caterer tomorrow if Kendall and Max agreed. Charlie obviously loved to throw a wrench into things.

“I vote you two talk this over at another time and come back to us when you agree on things,” Max said as he picked up Simon and threw him over his shoulder. “I am going to get this little guy ready for bed, and then I would like a few minutes alone with my fiancée.”

Maybe this was a test. Emma could only assume Max wanted to see how flexible she could be about this. She would prove to him she could bend.

“Fine. Charlie and I will compare notes and get back to you.”

“Perfect. Say good-night to everyone, Simon.” Max turned around so they could all see Simon hanging down his back. The little boy’s face was red, but he giggled as if he was having the time of his life.

“Good night, everyone,” Simon squealed.

Max brought him over for Kendall to kiss and then carried him upstairs to bed. Emma’s sister had found herself a good man. Emma would make sure they had the best wedding. Even if that meant she had to adjust her plans, thanks to Charlie. He’d better not make a habit of that, though.


CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_ce490a1d-fdcf-542f-8d99-23fb73b1b0ce)

PROGRESS. CHARLIE WAS finally making some progress with Miss Emma Elaine Everhart. Max had reported that she had no boyfriend, only a potential date to the wedding. Max had heard she hadn’t even asked the guy yet. Serena’s advice to step up and have an opinion had given Charlie the push he needed to set up another meeting. Emma had agreed, and his hope had been renewed.

Hiring Pete and his wife to cater the wedding reception was a brilliant idea. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it earlier. Of course, he needed to make sure the O’Reillys were going to be around on the Fourth of July or he was in trouble.

“I’ve got a job for you, O’Reilly,” Charlie announced, leaning against the counter in the station’s kitchen.

“Cooking for you guys isn’t enough?” Pete asked as he pulled a large frying pan out of one of the cabinets. The heavy skillet clanged when he set it on the stove top.

“Not here. It’s a catering gig in a couple months, on the Fourth of July actually. If you and your wife are available.”

Pete lit the burner before giving Charlie his full attention. “Yeah? You got a catering job for me and the missus?”

“My buddy’s getting married and there’s a small reception afterward. Only forty to fifty people. You think you could handle something like that?”




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