The Nurse's Secret Suitor. Cheryl Wyatt
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wrong. Worse, Dad wasn’t answering his personal or military phones.
Terrible scenarios raced through her head. Had something happened to her father? Or to her grandfather, who was scheduled for surgery? She knew the procedure was risky already—her career-military grandfather had ruined his lungs inhaling so much military jet fuel over the years. Had there been another complication? Or maybe her parents had bad medical news of their own. Cancer, heart disease...the possibilities went on and on.
Kate couldn’t breathe. Her chest tightened, eyes burned. She rushed out a side door hoping no one saw. She couldn’t be around people right now, not until she composed herself. In a secluded corner of a low-lit garden patio, she hid under an ornamental fuchsia tree. Heaving fresh Southern Illinois air, she redialed her mother’s number.
An answering click, then sniffles sounded. Kate’s jaw clenched. “I’m not getting off this phone till you tell me what’s going on. Don’t make me leave my good friends’ wedding to drag it out of you.”
“The wedding! I forgot, Kate. I shouldn’t have texted you.”
“Did something happen to Dad?” He was a deployed war general, sure, but he hadn’t been near danger, had he?
“No. Your dad is safe. It’s...honey, it’s us.”
“What’s ‘us’ mean?” Kate paced. “Me and you? You and Dad?”
“Your dad and I. I didn’t want to tell you by phone, but I fly out in the morning for Grandpa’s hip recovery. That’ll keep me out of touch for days, and I don’t want you hearing secondhand. Kate, I need to tell you, your dad and I are divorcing.”
“Div—” Kate choked on the last word she expected to hear. Surely Mom is kidding. Right? Her mind couldn’t wrap around it.
“Kate, Grandma’s calling in, probably with a surgery update on Grandpa. We’ll talk later, okay? I love you.” Click.
Teeth grinding, Kate redialed Dad, stat.
“Hello?”
Finally! “Dad?” Kate hated that her voice broke in front of her five-star military hero dad. “Please tell me it’s not true.”
A deep sigh. “I’m sorry. She served me papers today.”
Kate’s voice and composure broke. “Daddy, why?”
“Your mom can’t handle me overseas all the time. She waited to break the news until she was sure. Kate, are you okay?”
“Not with this. She texted me while I was at a wedding.”
“Mitch, your surgeon friend, right? He’s one of the ones who founded Eagle Point Trauma Center, isn’t he? I remember now. Kate, sorry about the poor timing. With her dad so ill, your mom probably wasn’t thinking. Neither am I.”
“Clearly. You both aren’t thinking. How can you flippantly throw thirty years of marriage away? Our family? And to do it now, when we might be losing Grandpa. Daddy, don’t let—”
A presence stirred behind her, and Kate froze. “Gotta go,” she barked out, suddenly eager to end the conversation as quickly as possible. “I’ll call later, okay?” The last thing Kate wanted was to ruin the festive mood of Lauren and Mitch’s wedding by letting one of the guests overhear her having a breakdown. Or let anyone see this crack in her tough-girl image. She never cried. Ever. Not even in the worst combat scenarios overseas or trauma cases here.
Kate flicked a tear but others followed. “Nice night out,” she called to the tall shadow over her shoulder. She pretended to gaze at brilliant stars glittering against a raven sky to keep from turning and letting whoever was there see her tears.
No answer—not out loud. Instead, the figure moved; a strong hand weighted her shoulder and turned her around. Heady masculine cologne mingled with pleasant garden scents. Kate tucked her chin to hide red-rimmed eyes, but a leather-gloved finger lifted her face.
Oh, my. The most gorgeous, mysterious man stood before her. What she could see of his masked face seemed carved from exquisite stone. His eyes, etched in ebony and concern, were so piercing they arrested her breath. His impressive height strained her neck as her eyes skimmed a firm jaw and sensual mouth and a muscular build that showed serious dedication to fitness.
Silent as a sniper, he removed her fancy feather mask and dabbed her eyes with a blue camouflage-patterned kerchief, the item odd and out of place with his all-black Zorro-type ensemble.
“Thank you.” She hated how her warbling voice revealed how she was falling apart. What did the masked intruder want, anyway? “May I help you?”
Dark eyes bored into hers, so intense she startled backward. Embarrassed by her reaction, she opened her mouth to apologize and found herself rambling instead. “I must look raccoonish with mascara running down my face. I didn’t even bother to buy the waterproof kind—I wasn’t expecting to cry. Not that I’m not happy for Mitch and Lauren, it’s just...I don’t cry.” She let out a brittle laugh. “Except for now. My parents just informed me they’re divorcing after a lifetime together.” Her voice fractured as the words, spoken aloud, made the truth suddenly become a cruel kind of real.
His chiseled face softened, compassion shining out of his eyes as if he really cared about her, cared about her pain. But how could he? He had to be a stranger. She’d helped each costumed guest sign in and knew each name on the list. No one had been conspicuously absent. He must be a wedding crasher. That she didn’t know the guy made him seem infinitely safe. He didn’t know her, so he wouldn’t judge her for breaking down.
As though sensing her thoughts, he shifted his stance and sweetly adopted a listening pose. Kate drew herself up, surprised at the level of relief she felt at being able to say how she really felt to someone she’d likely never see again.
“My friends inside...they all think I’m strong enough to do anything. I served overseas as a trauma nurse in the army. After that, anything should be easy, right?” Tears pressed for release again. “The problem is, people expect me to be some kind of superhero all the time.” Her voice dragged to a whisper. “How can I let them see me cry like this? Especially here. It’s a wedding—we’re supposed to be happy and hopeful and...and all the things I’m not.”
His grip strengthened on her shoulder, fingers gently kneading. She wanted to lean into him. So she did. He stood so near, the leather on his jacket cooled her cheek.
“It’s not just because of my parents,” she admitted in a low voice, barely more than a whisper. “It’s me. The truth is, I hate weddings. They make me scared I’ll end up alone after all my friends pair off. I look at brides and grooms who seem so in love, so wrapped up in each other, and I know no one’s ever made me feel that way. I’ve never been able to let go and get lost in the moment and the person I’m with. Maybe I’m too practical to ever truly fall in love. I worry so much about not making a mistake that I never take a relationship risk, never fall into anything—not even love.”
His sustained presence girded her with courage. His gloved hand settled against her back, nearly a hug. Stalwart. That’s what he was. Plus a stranger. Which meant she could spill her guts without leaving behind an emotional mess she’d have to clean up, explain away or deny to death later. And something about the night...the moon...the masks...made her embrace being honest, being vulnerable. What could she possibly have to worry about when being in his arms felt so safe?
He responded by drawing even closer. Care ebbed off him in waves, dangerously appealing combined with his handsomeness. It didn’t even occur to Kate to protest as he dipped his head and covered her mouth with his in a mesmerizing dance.
He exuded strength, mystery, masculinity and hints of delectable spearmint. His breath, his kiss were so soft. So delicious. Everything else fogged. Stress from her parents’ devastating news melted. Her world contracted to the cove of his arms, the core of gentleness driving his kiss and the calming rhythm of his breathing.
He broke contact to press