The Nightshift Before Christmas. Annie O'Neil
was no Boston General, and that was just the way Katie liked it. The facility was big enough to have all the fancy equipment, small enough to be able to give the personal touch to just about everyone who walked through those doors. And if they needed an extra hand, there were always the emergency services guys up on the mountain, willing to lend a hand. It wasn’t home yet...but she’d get there.
“Thank you, peanut gallery. Time to focus.” Katie tried her best to smile at the small but vital crew, all visibly buzzing with Christmas cheer. It wasn’t their fault she wanted to rip every bauble, snowman and glittery snowflake from the walls. Someone else took that prize. “Thanks for wearing your red and green scrubs, by the way—you all look very...festive.”
“Who doesn’t love Christmas, Doc?” a tinsel-bedecked RN quipped.
Me.
“Right!” Katie soldiered on. They were used to her grumpy face—no need for Christmas to morph her into a jolly, stethoscope-wearing elf. “Just in time for the lunchtime rush, I’ve got our first Christmas mystery X-ray!”
A smattering of applause and cheers went up as she worked her way through the dozen or so staff and slapped the X-ray up on the glowing board with a flourish.
“Any guesses?”
“Why would anyone stick one of those up their—?”
“I know! Especially at Christmas.”
“At least it’s not a turkey thermometer. We had one of those last year. Perforated the intestine!”
The group collectively sucked in a breath. Ouch.
“C’mon, Dr. McGann, that’s too easy. Give us a hard one!”
“All right, then.” She turned to face the cocky resident. “If it’s so easy, what’s your guess?”
“Cookie cutter?”
Katie winced and shook her head.
“Nope. Good guess, though. Try again.”
She joined the staff in tipping their heads first in one direction then the other. It wasn’t that tough...
“Tree decoration. Six-pointed snowflake. My Gramma Jam-Jam used to have one. It was my wife’s favorite.”
Katie’s body went rigid with shock as the rest of the staff turned to see who the newcomer to the group was. She didn’t need to turn around. She didn’t need to imagine who or what Gramma Jam-Jam’s tree was like. She’d helped decorate a freshly cut fir in her old-fashioned living room as many times as she had fingers on a hand.
As her thumb moved to check that the most important finger was still bare, waves of emotion began to strike her entire body in near-physical blows. She willed her racing heart to still itself, but every sensory particle within her was responding to the one voice in the world that could morph her by turns into a wreck, a googly-eyed teen, a blushing bride...
Dr. Joshua West. Her ex-husband.
Well. He would be her ex if he would ever sign the blinking divorce papers!
She couldn’t even manage to turn around and look at him, and yet her body was already on high alert to his presence. He was close. Too close.
She heard a shifting of feet. Maybe it was one of the nurses... Maybe it was... Her eyes closed for a moment.
Yup. There it was. That perfectly singular Josh scent. The man smelled of sunshine. What was up with that? It was the dead of winter. Freezing-cold, snowing-right-now winter. And yet she could smell warm sunny days and the rural lifestyle only her husband—her ex-husband!—could turn into something delicious. Talk about evocative! One whiff of that man had never failed to bring out her inner jungle cat. From all the excitement swing-dancing around her chest cavity in preparation for a high dive down to her...nethergarden...it was clear the cat had been in hibernation for some time.
Her spine did a little shimmy, as if she already didn’t get the point.
She did a laser-fast mental scan of her medical books. Maybe her body was trying to tell her something different!
Frisson or fear?
Her tongue sneaked out and gave her lower lip a surreptitious lick.
Guess that answers that, then.
How could that rich voice of his still have a physical effect on her? Hadn’t two years apart been enough to make her immune to the sweet thrill twirling along her insides every time she heard him whisper sweet—?
“Nice to see you, Katiebird.”
Don’t even start to go there! She took a decidedly large step away from Josh. Sweet or not, they’d been nothings in the end.
“Right, everybody! Let’s get these patients better.”
Katie clapped her hands together—more to prove to herself that she had her back-to-work hat on than anything else. That, and she didn’t want anybody around to witness the showdown she was certain was coming.
The group dispersed back to their posts, with a couple of interns still marveling over the human body’s ability to deal with the unnatural. Precisely what Katie was experiencing at this exact moment. Fighting a natural instinct. Every time she laid eyes on Josh it was like receiving a healing salve. Her eyes were still glued to the X-ray, but she knew if she only turned her head she was just a blink away from perfection.
She sucked in a breath. Not anymore! No one and nothing was picture-perfect. Life had a cruel way of teaching that lesson.
“Are you ever going to turn around?”
His words tickled her ear again. The man clearly didn’t believe in personal space when his wife was trying to divorce him.
“Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?” Katie wheeled round as she spoke. Her breath was all but sucked straight out of her as she met those slate-blue eyes she’d fallen so deeply in love with. It had been a long time since she’d last seen them up close and personal. A really long time.
She fought the sharp sting of tears as she gave a quick shake of her head and readjusted her pose. She could do nonchalant while her world was being rocked to its very core. She was a McGann, for goodness’ sake! McGanns were cool, analytical, exacting. At least that was what she’d told herself when her parents had swanned off to another party in lieu of spending time with their only daughter. McGanns were the polar opposite of the West family. The Wests were unruly, wayward, irresponsible! Invigoratingly original, passionate, loyal...
Her teeth caught her lower lip and bit down hard as her brain began to realign the Josh in her head with the one standing in front of her. Thick, sandy-blond hair, still a bit wild on top and curling round his ears, softening the edges of his shirt collar. No tie. Typical Josh. He rarely did formal, but when he did...
She swallowed and flicked her eyes back up to his hair to miss out on the little V of chest she knew would be visible. No hat. Natch. Why follow the same advice you’d give your patients? There were a few flakes of snow begging to be ruffled out of the soft waves. Her fingers twitched. The number of times she had tucked a wayward strand back behind one of his ears and given in to the urge to drop completely out-of-character sultry kisses along his neck...
No! And double, triple, infinity no! No Josh West. Not anymore!
“Didn’t the agency tell you?”
The expression on his face told her he knew damn well it hadn’t told her. The twinkle in his eye told her he was enjoying watching the steam beginning to blow out of her ears. Typical. He always had been spectacular at winding her up and then bringing her to a whole other plane of happy—
Stop it, Katie McGann. You are not falling under his spell again.
“Tell me what?”
“No need to grind your teeth, darlin’.” He tsked gently. “It’ll give you a headache.”
“Headache?”