Page 3 of Stolen Kisses
Krista lifted both brows. “Me?”
“He says you’re supposed to teach him how to play Uno today.”
Krista laughed. “That was mine and Joey’s favorite card game growing up. I am an Uno master. I told him I’d play after my shift, though.” Because when she was on shift, there was barely any time to breathe, much less eat or use the bathroom.
Olivia yawned while pulling her stethoscope from around her neck. “I’m going home to bed now. See you on the other side. Good luck.”
Krista nodded. “Sleep well.” She reached for her own stethoscope tucked inside the nurse’s station and draped it around her neck. Her hand reached into her pocket and fingered the stack of cards she’d brought from home. She and Joey still enjoyed a good game every now and then. She’d do her rounds first, make sure all of her patients’ needs were met, then she’d circle back and say hello to Adam, the sweet little seven-year-old with a missing front tooth and orange freckles dusting the bridge of his nose. Her boss faulted Krista for getting too close to the kids she worked with, but in Krista’s mind that was part of the job, too. There was no keeping your distance from a child who was scared. She understood how it felt to be scared and alone better than most. She’d been ten when she’d spent several months on this very floor, in this very hospital. She hadn’t just gotten a new kidney that year, she’d decided what she wanted to do when she grew up and she’d met the woman who would one day become her boss. Karen was a couple months from retirement now. Her years in the profession had taught her not to make friends with the patients. It was, as Karen put it, naïve.
Krista wasn’t being naïve in her work life, though. Only in her personal life, and she knew it. She lifted her cellphone from the pocket of her plum-colored scrubs that featured kittens and eyed a text from Noah.
Where did you go last night? No goodbyes?
She dropped the phone back into the depths of her pocket, unwilling to shrug off her feelings right now. She was tired of shrugging off her feelings. Tired of being in love with a man who viewed her as just one of the guys.
Just plain tired.
—
Noah Sawyer loved the wind whipping against his skin. It was the best feeling in the world. Better than being five beers into a baseball game, better than sex—not that he’d had that in a few months. Purely by choice. His date last night had seemed interested, but he’d dropped her home with little more than a wink and a “Have a good night.” The disappointment on her face had been as thick as her makeup. He was tired of dating those kinds of women, though. Beautiful, sure, but most of his dates couldn’t hold a conversation past the first ten minutes. Or they could, but he wasn’t interested in what they had to say. That’s why he’d brought Amber to Wednesday Wings last night. He’d thought it would be a safe way to test the waters with his date. Except Krista had promptly bailed and Amber had proved as uninteresting as all the rest.
Maybe he should just take a break from dating for a while.
Killing the fishing boat’s engine, he walked on deck and lowered the anchor into the deep waters of the Atlantic Ocean. The October air was crisp, chilling the windburn he’d just enjoyed as he’d bumped and zipped along. His newest co-captain hopped up on one of the seats lining the front deck and let out a commanding bark. The chocolate Lab pup was yet another example of his lack of impulse control. The houseboat where he lived wasn’t really big enough for a pet, especially one that promised to grow to over a hundred pounds, but, unlike with Amber, he hadn’t been able to resist those brown take-me-home eyes when he’d seen Beauty at a rescue event outside the town’s grocery store a couple weeks back. Along with a cart full of groceries, he’d taken home a bag of puppy food and an energetic pup. He was tired of living alone and, while a dog was definitely a commitment, it didn’t scare him the way living with a roommate or significant other did.
Beauty thumped her tail on the boat’s floor and barked again.
“Shush. You’ll scare away the fish.” His voice dropped to a tone he would use on an actual human child. “Co-captains who scare the fish walk the plank,” he threatened.
Beauty leaped up and propped the pads of her front paws on his thigh, eyes sparkling with excitement. That was something Noah’s temporary crew this past summer had lacked. None of them had been thrilled by the catch. So here he was, fishing with just a puppy who didn’t lack for enthusiasm but who might scare off all the fish in a fifty-mile radius. He’d likely have to stick to a smaller catch until he could hire on another crew member or two. Just thinking of that exhausted him. He was tired of training guys who didn’t love being out here. Guys who were just looking for their next paycheck. Noah wanted someone who knew what they were doing and who could pull in a decent day’s catch.
Gathering some shrimp bait and a bottled water, he settled in for a long day. Long fishing days allowed him time to think. His first thought: maybe Krista was miffed at him last night for bringing a date to Wednesday Wings. He’d never done that before and he hadn’t given her any warning. He knew from experience that Krista didn’t like to share when it came to him. There were times when her own brother had tried to be a third wheel on their escapades, and Krista had promptly nipped that in the bud. It was cute, really.Shewas cute. But, like he’d told Amber last night, he and Krista didn’t have that kind of relationship.
Noah baited the line and dropped it into the water. He glanced at his phone again. She wasn’t responding to his texts this morning, but her job as a pediatric nurse was a busy one. That didn’t explain why she hadn’t texted him back once he’d returned home from Castaways last night, though. When Krista was upset she used the word “fine” a lot and her easygoing smile became tight and brittle—a lot like the one she’d sported on the way to the ladies’ room just before ditching him and Amber.
Crap.
She was definitely pissed. He guessed he’d need to find a way to make it up to her. Tonight was Thirsty Thursday, which meant Krista would be going out with Abby and Grace for drinks. He wasn’t above crashing their girls’ night. Maybe he could show up at Castaways, sweep Krista away, and twirl her around the dance floor until she forgave him. Krista never stayed mad for long and he knew exactly which buttons to push to get back in her good graces.
Yeah, that’s exactly what I’ll do.
A smile lined his lips. Then his line gave a sharp tug in the water. Noah’s heart jumped and Beauty started barking excitedly. “Shush,” he told her again, reeling in his line. This was his first catch of the day, but hopefully it was nowhere near his last—ifhe could get Beauty to chill out. Without a proper crew, he needed to work longer and harder so that he didn’t single-handedly tank his family’s seafood company. He wasn’t fooled. A lot of folks were expecting him to fail at his new role of captain. He was the youngest of the Sawyer brothers and the one who typically screwed things up, starting on the day he was born when his mother had died in childbirth. Noah was determined to succeed at this, though. He’d never really planned out a future for himself, but being a boat captain felt right.
He pulled a nice-sized red drum onto the dock and set to unhooking her.
The only thing that didn’t feel right in his current life was the fact that Krista was ignoring him. She was his best friend, his constant, and without her everything felt wrong.
—
“I’m skipping Thirsty Thursday tonight,” Krista said, holding her cellphone to her ear and plopping on her couch after a long shift at the hospital.
“Noooooo,” Grace whined on the other end of the line. “I sit behind a desk from eight to four-thirty. I’ve been looking forward to drinks and dancing all day.”
“You can still go. Joey will pick you up and DD for you and Abby.”
“It wouldn’t be the same without you,” Grace said. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you going?”
Krista stared up at the ceiling fan. It wasn’t hot, but she’d flipped it on so that she could watch it spin. She focused on the rotating blades. “It was a rough day at work,” she finally said, her eyes immediately burning. She wished she could take her boss’s advice and leave her patients tucked in their stiff, white hospital beds and out of mind when she came home, but she couldn’t. “One of my patients returned today with a pretty serious infection.” That’s all the information that Krista could spare. Patient confidentiality rules made Krista carry the burden of what was going on with her patients alone.
