clean male—wrapped around her, teasing her senses and making her far more aware of the man than she liked.
“Tell Lance I’ll call him later about this weekend,” Zac said to Priya.
“Will do,” she called back, tucking her long dark hair behind her ear as she picked up a chart and headed into a delivery room.
Priya was engaged to Zac’s best friend, local firefighter Lance Marranto—a fact that only made the favor Carmen needed more complicated. But she’d find a way to deal with it because she was a survivor.
First, though, she needed to finish this chart.
Carmen sighed and blinked down at her writing. Her normally crisp cursive was going a bit wonky from fatigue. Teena’s long delivery had burned through what little energy she’d had left, considering she’d already been up late with her mother before coming in for the delivery.
Mama’s memory had begun deteriorating faster recently, and the poor thing had a hard time remembering she was in Alaska now, and not back home on her warm tropical island. The night before last she’d wanted to go outside in her nightgown and walk along the beach, meaning Carmen had been up constantly to stop her. It was only early spring, and the wilds on the outskirts of Anchorage were hardly a place for a sixty-five-year-old woman to traipse around in the middle of the night.
Thankfully, Carmen’s shift was almost done now. All she wanted to do was hand over Teena’s care to the nurses on duty and go home for a shower and a long nap. Clara was on Mama-watch duty until tomorrow.
She yawned before she could stop herself.
“Long day?” Zac asked.
His stupid dimples were making him look far too adorable. Not that she noticed. Nope. Not at all.
“Long night too. Fifteen-hour labor.” Carmen stretched her arms above her head. “Patient finally delivered this morning.” She shuffled her sore feet, then closed the chart she’d completed and shoved it aside. “Why?”
“We just brought a patient into the ER and I’ve got a few minutes to kill. Thought maybe you’d like to grab a coffee. Looks like you need one. If you drive home now, you’ll fall asleep at the wheel.”
He smiled the sexy smile that always got her right in the feels. No man should be allowed to be that handsome. Seriously. The navy blue fabric of his paramedic uniform only made his dark skin glow more warmly beneath the overhead lights, and the material seemed to cling to all his rippling muscle and highlight his pure masculine grace.
“Does that kind of pick-up line work well for you?” Carmen frowned, reminding herself that Zac was off-limits, firmly in the friend zone. And that was where he needed to stay if her plan was going to work. “Telling women how awful they look?”
“C’mon,” he teased. “You know you want some caffeine.”
She wanted to refuse, but he was right, darn it. Plus, she needed to ask him her favor, and now seemed as good a time as any.
“Fine. One coffee. Let’s go.”
He chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re cranky.”
She nudged him toward the elevator, their shoes squeaking on the shiny linoleum floor. While they waited her pulse kicked up a notch. Not because of his hotness—not entirely, anyway. No, it was nerves. She hated asking people for help. Especially when it was for a problem she’d brought upon herself.
If only she’d kept her mouth shut when the head of that clinic in California had mentioned Priya and Lance’s engagement. If only she’d stopped herself from letting the easy lie roll off her tongue, sweet and potent, like the rum she’d used to serve to tourists when she’d bartended at that all-inclusive resort in Trinidad to make ends meet while paying her way through school.
Yes, I’m getting married too!
Ugh. The memory of her statement made during the interview still made her cringe.
Because she wasn’t getting hitched. Hell, she hadn’t even dated a man in months.
To her horror, the clinic owner had seized on that information and invited her and her nonexistent fiancé to attend the upcoming national midwifery conference, where they’d announce their choice of candidate for the new job.
So here Carmen was, needing a fake fiancé for the weekend.
Unfortunately, time was running out and Carmen had only been able to come to one conclusion: Zac Taylor was the best man for the job. He was smart, funny, and not interested in forever.
Exactly what Carmen needed.
The elevator dinged and they stepped on board, the doors closing before anyone else joined them. She felt Zac’s gaze on her and resisted the urge to fidget. She probably looked a mess after working all night, but it wasn’t like she was trying to impress anyone—least of all him.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen her at the end of a long shift before. They hung out together as part of a larger group of colleagues at the hospital, including doctors Jake Ryder and Molly Flynn, trauma nurse Wendy Smith and her OB doc husband Tom, plus Susan—Zac’s EMT partner—and Lance and Priya, and some of the other local firefighters and their significant others. It was a large group and easygoing. Uncomplicated. The last thing she wanted to do was mess up that vibe by allowing her attraction to Zac to get any farther along than fantasy territory.
So, yeah. Zac was a friend. A friend from whom she needed a favor.
They got their drinks, then found a quiet table in the sunny atrium of the cafeteria, away from the other patrons. Sade’s “Smooth Operator” was playing on the sound system overhead and Carmen couldn’t contain her ironic snort. If there was a better theme song for Zac’s serial dating, she didn’t know it.
“What?” Zac leaned back in his chair, stretching out his long legs. He was a good foot taller than her petite five-foot-four-inch frame. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. Just tired, I guess,” she said, trying to pass off her inappropriate giggles as fatigue. “Are you off work soon too?”
“Nah. I wish... Pulling a double shift.”
He sipped his iced chai tea. Zac worked almost as hard as she did, always picking up extra runs when he could. Work hard, play hard, apparently.
The favor nagged in the back of Carmen’s mind, making her jittery. “Do you have plans next weekend?”
“Not sure.” Zac frowned at her over the straw in his drink. “Why?”
Her cheeks flamed hotter. To distract herself, she toyed with a copper-colored curl that had escaped the ponytail at the nape of her neck. Her hair never obeyed, no matter how hard she tried to tame it into submission. She blamed her mother’s Ghanaian ancestry as much as the ever-changing Alaskan weather.
“I have a thing.”
“A thing?” Zac raised a brow at her.
“A national conference. Next weekend. I was hoping maybe you could come with me, if you’re not busy.”
She
