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  Jacob barks out a deep laugh, and he shakes his head at Jagger. “That’s my son. If only we could all be that carefree.”

  Jagger turns his head at his dad’s chuckle. I expect to see embarrassment at being caught playing, but instead, the biggest smile I think Jagger’s cheeks can support breaks out across his face. He drops his handful of rocks and sprints toward us. When he stops in front of Jacob, Jagger raises his arms to be picked up.

  Jacob squeezes my hand before releasing it, and I wrap my arms around myself at the loss of contact. Leaning over, Jacob picks up his son and sets him on his lap, and he kisses Jagger’s nose.

  “Hey, little man.” Jacob’s grin is a direct reflection of Jagger’s.

  Jagger lifts his tiny hands and presses them against Jacob’s cheeks. “You’re smiling, Daddy.”

  Jacob’s grin falters slightly as he and his son study each other. Something meaningful flows between them, and I feel as if I’m intruding on a special moment.

  “I am.” Jacob’s eyes crinkle at the corners before he twists toward me. “Maybe that’s because, after a long time, I’ve finally found something to be happy about.” It’s said to Jagger, but Jacob’s eyes never waver from mine.

  A vibrant energy like nothing I’ve experienced moves between us, and I swallow deeply, too afraid to say anything to break the moment.

  Jagger wiggles in Jacob’s lap. “Daddy, down. I want to throw rocks.”

  Jacob glances at his watch—something that screams expensive—and shakes his head. “Sorry, Jagster. We have to go.”

  Setting the little boy back on the ground, Jacob stands and grabs his son’s hand before he can run away. When Jacob regards me, his brows are drawn in, and his mouth is downturned. He starts to say something, but it’s interrupted by a screeching ringtone. His chest deflates on a sigh, and he reaches into his pocket to pull out the noisy device.

  Swiping against the screen, Jacob lifts the cell phone to his ear and barks, “Ancroft.” Several seconds pass as he shakes his head and then releases Jagger’s hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You’ll have to handle it on your own, Landon. I have Jagger, and we’re going to see—yes.” Another pause. “That’s why I pay you an obscene salary. It’s time you earn it.” Jacob hangs up and shoves the phone back in the front pocket of his dress pants.

  “Sorry,” he says to me.

  Another sharp pain surges through me as I rise to my feet. The air rushes from my lungs, and I slightly hunch over, grabbing my abdomen. I release a groan and immediately regret it when Jacob steps forward and places his free hand on my shoulder.

  “Joslyn, are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a cramp from sitting too long.” That’s a semi-truth.

  “We have to go.” He studies me. “Will you be okay by yourself?”

  “I’ll walk back with you. I need to get going as well.” My discomfort is becoming increasingly worse, and it’s time for me to rest. Sitting on the hard bench after the doctor poked and prodded at me are making this a rough afternoon.

  The three of us walk up the hill in silence.

  After Jacob straps Jagger into his car seat, he turns and walks to stand in front of me.

  “You’re a lovely woman, Joslyn. Intelligent, beautiful, and kind. A wise man would adore you and feel honored to be by your side.” He caresses my face and strokes my cheek with his thumb. “Believe in that, and don’t settle for anything less.”

  I close my eyes at the contact and at the solace his words bring. When I open them, Jacob is intently studying me.

  “Promise me you won’t settle for less.” He tips his head.

  “I promise,” I whisper. No, I won’t allow myself to fall for another selfish man.

  Lifting my hand to his lips, Jacob presses a soft kiss against my skin and holds it there. Our eyes stay connected, and the world around us disappears. In that space and time, it’s just the two of us, and I start to believe that maybe there’s hope I’ll see him again.

  “Can we exchange—” I start to say.

  “Daddy! Let’s go home and see Mommy!” Jagger yells from inside the SUV.

  Jacob slams his eyes closed, and his face pinches.

  I inhale a shocked breath and snatch my hand back from him. For the first time, my eyes seek out his left hand, and my stomach twists when I notice a titanium band on a distinct finger.

  Asshole.

  How stupid was I to not notice such a significant symbol of commitment?

  My eyes flash to his, and the blue irises have gone darker, almost as if they’re pleading, apologetic.

  And he should be. How could he do this to his wife, his son, and to me?

  Technically, we haven’t done anything inappropriate, but I don’t think a married man with a loving wife at home should behave like he has. I don’t know Jacob, but I question how it’s possible to form that deep of a connection in the short time we’ve been together. Especially when he has a wife.

  I take a few steps back from him and hug my stomach—a stomach that aches for several different reasons.

  “Joslyn…” Jacob says softly, taking a step toward me.

  I shake my head. “Don’t.”

  “Please, it’s not what you think.”

  He reaches for me, but I move away.

  “It doesn’t matter what I think. We’re just two strangers who met in a park.” I shrug, trying to make both of us believe my words. “Thank you for listening. It meant a lot.”

  I turn my attention to the adorable little boy talking to himself in the backseat of Jacob’s BMW. “Bye, Jagger. It was nice meeting you.”

  “Bye, Joslyn.” He waves and gives me a jubilant smile.

  It’s so sweet, it makes my rib cage feel too big for my body.

  I swing my focus back to Jacob, and his interest hasn’t wavered from me.

  “Have a nice life, Jacob.”

  His shoulders sag, and his chest rises and falls on a deep sigh. “You, too, Joslyn.”

  This is it. The moment between us—one that will forever shape my life—deflates.

  Turning, I slowly walk to my car, get in, and force myself not to glance in the rearview mirror as I drive away.

  CHAPTER 2

  * * *

  NOISY CULPRITS

  “Hey, Jos. Welcome back, girlfriend.” Maya—my best friend, housemate, and fellow nurse—walks into the break room and gives me a cautious hug.

  “Hi, My.” I give her a big squeeze, letting her know I’m okay.

  When she leans back, she holds me at arm’s length to study me. “I know I’ve asked you this a thousand times, but are you sure you’re well enough to be here? It’s only been a couple of weeks since your surgery.”

  “And I’ve told you, the good ole doc said I could start to gradually work myself back into my routine, so here I am.” I lift my arms and grin.

  “It’s great you’re back at it, but you look like hell.” She steps away, drops her large purse on the table, and adjusts her scrubs.

  “Thanks. I appreciate your loving words.”

  I flip her off, and she laughs.

  “I’ll only be here for a little while. Have to break myself in slowly,” I say.

  My stamina really took a hit after my procedure, and I find myself already tired from getting myself ready, driving here, and walking into the hospital and break room.

  “Good.” She nods once and then rummages through her purse.

  I turn to the mirror and wind my long, thick blonde hair into a messy bun at the crown of my head. Artfully placing a double black headband in front of the knot, I pull at chunks of hair between the bands for some volume. I study my tired blue eyes before I squeeze my pale cheeks to give them some color.

  Good enough.

  I turn toward Maya and watch as she hunts for something at the bottom of her bag.

  Maya and I met on the first day of nursing school. We were drawn to each other, became instant friends, and were inseparable. Fortunately, we were a
ccepted into the same graduate program this fall and were even more fortunate to be placed on the same rounds at C.S. Mott Children’s Hospital—part of the University of Michigan Health System. We both want to be neonatal intensive care nurses and currently work in the NICU three days a week.

  After I step away from the mirror, Maya walks over to smooth gloss over her plump lips. The primping is in vain because she’s absolutely stunning without any makeup. Her flawless mocha skin and dark hair and eyes are accentuated by her tall hourglass figure and rock-hard bubble butt. She works hard for that behind and has no problems with showing it—or her girls—off.

  If Maya wasn’t my best friend and the greatest person I knew, I would hate her for her gorgeous body on principle alone. She’s fierce, and she has an aura that draws people into her. It sucked me in, and now, she’s stuck with me. It’s a good thing she feels the same way about me.

  “So, give me the rundown on what I missed over the last couple of weeks,” I say.

  “The gossip or the cuties?” Maya puckers her lips and then smacks them together before rotating toward me.

  “Gimme the goods on the babies.” I do grabby fists at Maya.

  The NICU is the only place I’ll ever get to be close to being a sole nurturer for little ones. The babies depend on me for everything. For a short time, I’m their medical parent. It stings when they leave, but at least I know I have done my job and can send the parents home with a healthy baby, which is the best gift imaginable.

  “The gossip’s better.” Maya wiggles her eyebrows up and down.

  I shake my head at her.

  She exhales loudly. “There’s a super cutie, Jenna, who was born three days ago. She is a preemie, has RDS that’s being treated with CPAP, and has PDA. Her last test showed the ductus arteriosus seems to be closing, but we’ll need to keep a close watch. There are other cases on the floor that have been here for a while—the standard apnea and anemia—but the RDS and PDA preemie is the most critical.”

  “Poor thing. How are the parents?” I hold the door open as we step out into the hallway.

  “It’s a sad story. Mom found out she was pregnant at three months, and two months later, she was diagnosed with stage four breast cancer.” Maya eyes me.

  “Oh my gosh.” I place my hand on my chest. How heartbreaking.

  “Yeah. She chose to forgo cancer treatments to progress with the pregnancy.” Maya waves at the desk clerk as we walk by. “Hey, June.”

  “Maya. Hey, Joslyn. Welcome back. You look well.” June waves and then smooths her graying hair back from her face.

  I put up a good front.

  “Thanks. So do you.” I lift my hand and smile at her. “The mother gave up her life for her child’s,” I whisper to Maya, bringing us back to the preemie we were talking about.

  As a parent, the woman made the ultimate sacrifice.

  “Brave woman.” Maya nods.

  “The bravest.” Without knowing them, I grieve for her, the family, and the poor baby who will be raised without a mother.

  “That’s not all.” She regards me as we break through the doors of the NICU and stop to wash our hands. The smell of antiseptic is overpowering.

  “There’s more?” My eyebrows lift.

  “Yep. The mother left a kid and husband behind.”

  Maya dries her hands, and I follow suit before we walk out onto the floor.

  “How sad.”

  I can’t imagine the pain the family must be going through. Not only is the father mourning the loss of his beloved wife, but he also now has to comfort a grieving child who probably doesn’t understand any part of the situation and care for a new preemie baby.

  “For sure. So, do you want the gossip now?” Maya leans toward me.

  “Give it to me.” I know she won’t be happy until she tells me every juicy detail about the happenings on our floor or in the hospital.

  “Dr. Alta was caught doing the dirty with Trish in the restroom.” Her eyes gleam mischievously.

  “What? He’s married.” I gawk.

  “Yes, and supposedly happily with two-point-five kids. The worst of it is, this isn’t the first affair he’s had.” Maya pinches her face up in disgust.

  “What a jerk. And what the heck’s wrong with Trish? I thought she was dating the ER—” I break off when we stop in front of the first incubator.

  My eyes land on the precious little baby lying in front of me. She’s pink, tiny, and perfect. Her head’s covered in fuzzy blonde hair, and her hands are fisted on either side of her face. As soon as I walk up beside her, her blue eyes blink open, and I swear, she looks right at me even though all my medical training tells me she can’t see that far away yet.

  Within seconds, I’m a pile of mush at her feet.

  Over the last two years, I’ve helped many patients, babies, and children, but there has never been an instant connection like the one I’m feeling with her. I don’t understand it, and I can’t explain it.

  “Is this Jenna?” I whisper to Maya.

  “Yeah. Told you, she’s totally adorbs.” She grabs the baby’s chart and sifts through the thick file to see what she needs.

  Adorable doesn’t even come close to explaining Jenna’s perfection. Her fluffy white-blonde hair shimmers like a halo around her head, and her cheeks are slightly hollow but dusted with healthy color. Tiny red lips pucker, like she’s trying to blow me a kiss, and I laugh at the cuteness. Wrinkles crinkle on her forehead when she lifts her perfectly shaped pale eyebrows, and those striking blue eyes are still focused on me.

  “Aw.” Maya comes to stand next to me and points. “She’s trying to kick her feet. She hasn’t responded to anyone here. She must really like you.” She bumps me with her shoulder.

  “Who wouldn’t?” I coo my sarcastic answer. A smile stretches my cheeks, and my eyes turn into little hearts for her.

  As I watch Jenna watch me while she tries to kick her feet, I feel the absence of hope reverberate around the places that are now hollowed out inside me. A new ache I haven’t yet experienced grows to the point that it chokes me.

  My hand moves to my sore torso and presses against the swollen, empty cavern. I have grieved my loss more times than I can count, but standing here, silently bonding with the beautiful baby before me, takes my grief to another level. Pain ricochets through every part of me.

  I will never be able to have this.

  A tear slips down my cheek and lands on the incubator that houses the angelic miracle before me. I can’t bring myself to care or to try to hide the agony slicing through me.

  Maya rubs my shoulder and gives me a one-armed hug. “I’ll pick up Jenna’s meds and give you a minute.”

  I nod. Without words from me, Maya knows this is difficult for me and that I need time to myself.

  For me, being around babies is like placing a newly recovered alcoholic or drug addict in a roomful of temptation they can never have. Life sucks and hurls blow after blow, and there’s nothing I can do but stand in the middle of the ring and try to take it like a champ. The fight has only just begun, but I’m already exhausted.

  Squirting hand sanitizer onto my palms, I rub them together and stick my arm through the access hole to stroke the back of my finger along the softest baby cheek I’ve ever felt.

  “Hi, Jenna. I’m Joslyn,” I say into the opening so that she can hear me.

  Jenna’s feet start kicking, and the eyes that started to grow heavy blink open again.

  “I’m one of your nurses who will help make you feel better.”

  I move my hand down to hers, and her tiny fist takes ahold of my finger and won’t let it go.

  “You have a tight grip for such a little thing.” I smile and reach for the chair behind me to sit, trying not to jostle the hand Jenna’s holding. For the first time in a couple of weeks, I feel peace settle inside me. Something about this beautiful miracle before me momentarily quiets the storm raging inside my head and chest.

  Moments, minutes, or hours tick by
as I sit and let Jenna grip my finger. I watch her chest rise and fall with the machines, and I listen to the rhythm of her heartbeat pulse through the monitor. The steadiness calms me, and I find, if time allowed, I could sit here all day.

  “Hey.” Maya walks up next to me. “Want to administer her meds?”

  I shake my head. It seems like nothing will be important enough to break me from the trance Jenna has put me under. As long as she wants to hold my finger, I’ll stay put.

  “I’ll read her chart though.” I nudge my chin at the folder Maya holds, and she passes it to me.

  While Maya gives Jenna her medications and checks her vitals, I browse over the paperwork detailing Jenna’s family history and condition. It’s grim, but it’s not hopeless.

  Her mother was thirty years old and her father is thirty-one, and she has a four-year-old brother.

  Jenna’s respiratory distress syndrome (RDS) would be my main concern, but she’s responding well to the continuous positive airway pressure (CPAP) therapy. Maya mentioned Jenna had patent ductus arteriosus (PDA) but that the blood vessel showed signs of closing. Everything in the paperwork seems positive, but Maya forgot to mention that the mother was addicted to painkillers. The doctors are watching Jenna for signs of addiction, which can normally take anywhere from one to seven days to appear.

  “The mother was addicted to pain meds?” My eyes focus on Jenna’s tiny face, searching around the wires and white tape for blotchy skin coloring, sweating, or trembling. Those are only a few of the many symptoms of addiction but the easiest to identify.

  Maya’s fingers reach out and wiggle at me, indicating that she wants Jenna’s chart. I close it and hand it over.

  She scribbles notes on a form, seals Jenna’s file, and places it back in the holder next to the incubator.

  “Yeah. We assumed it was to help with the pain caused by her cancer.” Maya’s forehead crinkles in speculation as she studies the angel lying peacefully before us. “But, now, suspicion leads us to believe that the mother was using before she was aware of the pregnancy or cancer.”