My anger flared. I didn’t need to grant anyone access to my surgeries to get in their pants, if that’s what she was thinking.
“Grace, I’ve told you before I believe you’re one of the best surgical nurses I’ve ever worked with, and I’ve worked with many. Do you think I need to dole out compliments as a means to get access to what’s between your legs?”
Her sudden intake of air almost had me reeling. The gasp of surprise wasn’t a put on, and when she quickly firmed her lips shut, trying to conceal her reaction to my words, not for the first time my cock stirred in my damn scrubs.
“Prepare the patient for surgery. I will see you in the OR.” I turned my back on her and proceeded down the hallway to calm my bullshit hormones before surgery. I hadn’t even kissed this woman yet and she was beginning to drive me fucking crazy.
Who was I fooling?
She was way past beginning. The inevitable was becoming more and more obvious.
****
“Nurse Young, would you please prep the surgical area,” I requested while my gown was being tied in the back by another staff member, just inside of the doors of the operating room.
“Sure thing, Dr. Reynolds.”
I frowned behind the surgical mask I wore. I understood and respected the need for professionalism among our colleagues. That didn’t mean I enjoyed hearing Grace refer to me as anything other than my first name. That in and of itself should’ve told me this woman had me where no one else had.
I strode over to the table where the patient laid unconscious after having been put under by the anesthesiologist.
“Another boob job, huh, Dr. Reynolds? You ever get tired of doing these?”
I paused with the scalpel in my right hand, a half an inch above the patient’s body, and glared across the table at the third-year resident.
“Tired of doing my job, Dr. Wu?”
Eyes widening, his lips parted and then closed again. His dark brown eyes darted from me to Grace, to other staff members.
“Do me a favor, Dr. Wu?”
“What’s that, sir, um, Dr. Reynolds?”
“Don’t ever speak before I’ve made the first cut.” By the time I’ve made the first incision I can drown out the stupidity of the residents and their questions but not before.
I proceeded with the operation, again noticing how well Grace and I worked together. Even before I called for suctioning she was there, with the tool, aiding my ability to see the field clearly. And whereas I’d had to tamp down on my anger because I often felt suffocated by the nearness of other surgical nurses who were merely doing their job, Grace was different. I couldn’t get enough of her closeness. In fact, my body felt cold when she moved away.
“We are almost done here,” I stated about two hours later.
“I’ll go—”
“No. Dr. Wu can go and tell the husband how his wife is doing. Dr. Wu.” I looked to him across the table expectantly. I could see in his eyes that he preferred to stay but that would’ve meant sending Grace out in his stead to talk with the family while I did the final stitches on the patient. That just wasn’t going to happen.
“No problem, Dr. Reynolds.”
I nodded and kept stitching. A half a minute later I heard the door of the operating room open and close as Dr. Wu exited.
“What are your career goals, Nurse Young?” I suddenly found myself asking a question that’d been on my mind for a while.
“Excuse me?”
“Do I need to speak louder? Is my mask making it difficult for you to hear me accurately?”
I didn’t bother looking over my shoulder to see her reaction to that snark. I could feel the daggers her eyes were throwing my way. My lips cracked into yet another smile behind the mask I wore.
“What are your career ambitions?” I questioned again when there was no immediate response.
“What would make you ask that?”
