the locker room, Vivian sighed. She honestly felt sympathy for the woman. Once her boyfriend had learned she was pregnant, he’d taken off and left her. What in the hell is wrong with men these days?
Unlike most hospitals, Tender Hearts’s “bays” were actual rooms and not the customary dismal curtains that separated individuals in the ER. The second Vivian entered Mr. Hamilton Price’s room the odor of sweat and hard living hit her.
Yes, it was enough to water your eyes, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Compared to the things she’d smelled in the past, this was pine cleaner. The instant her eyes landed on the scruffy man reclined in the bed, she recognized him from the soup kitchen where she volunteered.
Mr. Price’s salt-and-pepper hair hung in locks down his back. She wasn’t sure if his dark, leathery skin was a result of the elements or time. If nothing else, he certainly appeared to eat well, and that made her happy. The thought of anyone going hungry troubled her.
“Mr. Price?”
He rotated his head toward her. A smile lifted the corners of his mouth, revealing several missing teeth on the bottom and a bit of decay on the others.
“That’s me, pretty lady. Come on over here closer so I can see you a little better.”
Vivian smiled and neared the bed. “Well, you know, Mr. Price—”
“Call me Hamilton. Mr. Price was my father. Boy, he was an ornery SOB.”
He laughed—ta-hee-hee—or at least Vivian thought it was laughter.
“Yep, an ornery SOB, but a good man. Not many of them around these days, good men.”
He didn’t have to try to convince her. She totally agreed. Calling the mature gentleman by his first name felt disrespectful, but she did as instructed and honored his wishes. “Hamilton, if you took your diabetes medication like you’re supposed to, you wouldn’t have this blurry vision. You’d be able to see me clear across the room.”
He laughed again. “Oh, I like you already. Feisty. And I know someone else who’d like you, too. You know them good men I—”
Before Hamilton completed his thought, the door crept open behind them. When Vivian rotated, time came to a standstill. Him. Tempered Chocolate. The second their gazes collided, her body performed a similar shameful act as before. But added to the searing heat that rushed through her system, again, her nipples tightened inside her bra.
No, no, no, don’t you dare betray me like this, she warned her defiant body.
Questions flooded her. Had he entered the wrong room? Was he lost? Or less likely, had he been looking for her? She mentally drop-kicked the latter thought from her head. How ridiculous. Of course he isn’t looking for me.
Sadly, their connection now didn’t reflect the one they’d shared earlier—at least judging by his expression. In fact, now he seemed downright bothered by her presence. Vivian thought she even detected a hint of a scowl on his gorgeous face. But why? The only interaction they’d had before this moment had been a glance—a look—okay, a heat-packed, center-stirring stare, which at the time he’d seemed to appreciate just as much as she had. Obviously something had changed.
“Ta-hee-hee. Just as I expected,” came from Hamilton’s direction.
Vivian wasn’t sure what Hamilton’s comment meant, but it was enough to draw Tempered’s demanding eyes away from her. A good thing, too. Another second and she would have needed an IV. This man’s presence was draining. And to make it worse, though they hadn’t spoken a single word to one another, he had her body in a tailspin.
Chocolate had always been her weakness.
Alonso Wright stopped dead in his tracks the second he entered Hamilton’s room. Her. The beautiful nurse he’d caught staring at him earlier. Okay, he couldn’t confirm for sure she’d been staring, but she’d certainly appeared guilty when his eyes had met hers. He was pretty sure she’d gasped, too.
Normally he would have appreciated the fact he’d been given another opportunity to admire the way her brown hair dangled in the ponytail every time she moved her head, or how her pecan-toned skin shimmered under the fluorescent lighting, or the hungry way her innocent-looking brown eyes drank him up. Unfortunately, the way the rude nurse who’d been here earlier had darted from the room overshadowed it all.
From the moment the other nurse had entered the room, she’d acted as if Hamilton’s mere existence disgusted her. Recalling the way the woman had rushed from the room, while Alonso was in midsentence, angered him all over again. She’d disrespected him, but more important, had disrespected Hamilton.
Was this her replacement? This one was probably just as unsympathetic as the one before. He’d hate to have to make a phone call about her, too. In a dry tone, he said, “I buzzed for someone over fifteen minutes ago. I’m glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence.”
“I apologize, sir. But I’m here now.”
“Well, we don’t need you now. I handled your job for you.” He lifted the can of soda he’d been holding, then neared Hamilton’s bedside.
She moved beside him with the speed of a cheetah. “Uh, what are you doing?”
“I’m making sure my friend doesn’t dehydrate, since I’m the only one who seems concerned about his well-being.” He normally wasn’t this sour, but a mixture of worry, stress and thin patience with the staff had him not his usual self. Maybe he needed a Snickers.
The bold woman confiscated the can of soda before he could pass it to Hamilton. “Hamilton can’t have this. We’re trying to lower his blood sugar, not increase it. Which is exactly what this would do.”
Hamilton? Were they on a first-name basis? “Well, if I could have gotten one of you to actually respond, maybe we would have had a more viable option. And it’s Mr. Price. He deserves the same respect you’d give any other patient in this hospital.” Alonso shook his head. “You people are something else. And for the record, he has good health insurance. Great insurance, actually. Probably better than yours. So you can stop treating him like a second-class citizen and do your job.”
When her jaw muscles flexed and her brown eyes turned a shade darker, Alonso knew he’d hit a nerve. But he wasn’t backing down.
“Ta-hee-hee. Uh-oh. I think you done poked the hornet’s nest, boy.”
Yep, it appeared so. After a couple seconds more of boring a hole in him with those mesmerizing eyes, she slid her attention from Alonso to Hamilton. A warm smile curled her lips as she addressed him.
“Hamilton...”
Alonso didn’t miss the fact that she’d cut her eyes at him with the use of Hamilton’s first name again.
“Sodas aren’t a good option. They may be okay every once in a while, but they’re loaded with sugar. Which I’m sure you know wreaks havoc on your diabetes.”
“Yeah. I tried to tell that knucklehead.”
Alonso’s
