HEAT (Montgomery Men Book 2) Read online




  Heat

  Contents

  Heat

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2017 by C.A. Harms

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Interior formatting and design by Jessica Hildreth www.JessicaHildrethDesigns.com

  Never fear the unexpected.

  Embrace it, own it, and show it what a badass you truly are!

  SHANELLE

  “I need a doctor over here!”

  The words echoed through the open area of the waiting room, and I turned quickly in the direction they had originated. An elderly woman came through the front entrance of the Emergency Room with an old man, who was hunched over and holding his chest as he moaned in pain. His face was ashen, and he seemed to be too weak to hold himself upright.

  “Someone please help us,” she hollered as I rounded the corner of the counter and hurried toward them, my mind instantly shifting into rescue mode.

  “Pauline,” I yelled over my shoulder to the other nurse on duty, “I need a wheelchair.”

  I reached the man and woman just as he began to collapse. The woman cried out in terror, and my heart ached at the pain in her voice.

  I felt her agony. That crippling, uncontrollable emptiness that made it almost impossible to breathe. She looked to me for help, and the lost, desolate look in her eyes made my chest ache even more. Panic rose within me. I worried that no matter how hard I tried, I wouldn't be able to make this situation right again.

  I used to second-guess every move I made. I used to ask myself how I’d get through each day watching people suffer, either from their own illness or from their loved ones slowly fading before their eyes. I’d wondered how one’s heart could take such devastation day after day.

  My mother is my inspiration, and for as long as I could remember, she’d been giving back to every person she met. She has the most loving soul and caring heart. So I pushed forward with the thoughts of all she has given back in her life. I strived to be the kind of woman she is: the nurse that always gave it her all. No matter what the day before may have brought, every morning I’d get up, come to work, and put on a brave face for each patient and their family. Even in times of devastating loss, I’d find a way to hold myself together, because that was my job, and I was a nurturer.

  It’s who I am, and who I will always be. Even if it left me little time for a life outside my job.

  “Long day?”

  I jumped in surprise at the sound of a man’s voice from behind me. Spinning around, I pressed my palm to my chest in surprise. My heart was racing, and I let out a slow, deep breath in an attempt to calm it.

  “I’m sorry,” he said as he held his own hands out to his sides. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  I recognized the man. I’d seen him around the building occasionally in passing. He was the kind of guy most girls noticed—tall and strikingly handsome. I often looked a little longer than I should have when I saw him coming and going from the building. I didn’t know his name, but I had wondered about him regularly.

  “Shanelle, right?” he asked, still offering a gentle smile while maintaining his distance. When I didn’t answer, he hurried on. “My name is Andrew. I live in 5B.” He pointed toward the end of the hall. “We’ve passed each other a time or two but never spoke. Tonight you just looked as if you’ve had one hell of a day.”

  He continued to look at me curiously, and I realized I must be coming off a little freakish. I was acting as if he was attempting to attack me instead of just being kind and neighborly. But that smile of his was making me feel a little loopy and fuzzy.

  “Elle,” I said quickly, trying to ease the awkwardness. “Most everyone just calls me Elle.”

  I offered him my hand in an attempt to save the first impression I was completely bombing. I couldn’t bear to wonder what he must be thinking about me.

  When he took my hand in his and grinned, relief filled me.

  “Elle,” he repeated. “It’s nice to finally meet you—officially, that is.”

  My friends often chastised me for being so lost in my own little world that I rarely noticed the things going on right in front of me. But I wasn’t as blind as they thought I was. I could tell when a man was flirting, just like Andrew was now. That cocky little smirk, his perusal of me from head to toe. Oh, and the extended caress of my fingers for a few seconds longer than necessary as he pulled back from our handshake. I’d give him props for his smoothness in playing the concerned-neighbor card in an attempt to break the ice. It worked in his favor, and the boyish charm mixed with his alluring smile helped too. He’d gained my full attention, and I was intrigued about what kind of man he was behind that grin.

  I loved the fact I had to tilt my head up slightly to look him in the eyes. He seemed to have the full package going for him: tall, blue eyes, blond surfer-boy hair that was exactly in place even though it was tossed to the side in a roughed-up way. It looked so soft, and my fingers itched to touch it.

  The man was unbelievably attractive.

  “I won’t keep you. I just wanted to take the opportunity to introduce myself.” He nudged his head in the direction of his apartment. “Feel free to stop by anytime, for a glass of wine, maybe dinner.” His grin grew wider when I smiled at his forwardness. “Though for now a simple hello when passing in the lobby, or light conversation when sharing the elevator would work too.”

  I chuckled, and his smile grew.

  “That’s doable,” I replied, flirting right back. After the long, stressful day I’d had at the hospital, it felt nice to let go a little.

  “I’ll take what I can get.” He winked before turning around and walking back toward his apartment at the end of the hall. I observed him for a little too long, and when he paused to look back at me, my face reddened with embarrassment.

  “You sure you don’t want that glass of wine?” Andrew asked with a gleam in his eyes, causing me to laugh nervously, which only embarrassed me further, because sometimes I was such a dork.

  “Good night, Andrew,” I replied, offering a small wave before I turned the nob and moved into my darkened apartment. Leaning against the now-closed door behind me, I took in a deep breath and smiled at the fluttering excitement in my stomach.

  You think you’re content with life, that you could happily keep living each day like you currently are. Until something as simple as a little hallway flirting with a cute guy happens, and then you realize your life may just be missing something after all.

  I pushed off my door with a little more oomph than I
’d had only an hour ago and began shedding layers. I took off my jacket and shoes and slowly moved on to my scrubs as I walked through the living room toward my bedroom. A long, hot shower followed by a glass of wine with dinner sounded quite soothing and like the perfect way to end the evening.

  Losing a patient was never easy, and each time it happened it laid heavily on my heart.

  But today was one of the harder times.

  I learned Helen and Murray Flaggerty had known each other their entire lives and had been married for fifty-two years. They had one child together who died at the age of six from a rare heart condition. They didn’t have any more children because, as Helen put it, her soul couldn’t take any more loss.

  Only today, she was facing exactly that when they arrived at the hospital.

  Murray Flaggerty lay on the gurney as the doctors and nurses hurried around the room. Helen stood to the side looking grief-stricken, and with each passing second, my heart broke a little more right alongside hers. I couldn’t even imagine what it felt like to lose a man who was not only your husband but your best friend and the only person you had left in the world. I just wanted to hold her close and give her the comfort I knew she needed.

  That was the hard part of my job. The part that forced me to appear to be strong. I say “appear” because I could feel my soul weakening and fading with each patient who passed, as if a part of me died with them.

  When I decided to become a nurse, I never thought of the times I’d be faced with death; the times where no matter how hard we tried, we would still lose someone. I guess I struggled with the fact I couldn’t always fix things. The pain and suffering in this world were so much more immense than I or anyone else could heal.

  According to my best friend Kimmy, that was my weakness. In fact, I’ve sat through dozens of lectures from her on the topic. I knew I couldn’t fix the entire world. Still, I tried to each day and felt saddened that I couldn’t.

  I woke to my cell phone ringing and groaned in frustration. God, I love Kimmy, but she was an early riser, and I … was not. Especially on my days off. She called every morning at the same time, and every morning I ignored her call. You would think by now she’d get the hint.

  I’d planned to spend half my morning in bed, sleeping off the wine hangover I gave myself last night when one glass was just not enough. Then once I dragged my ass out of bed, I planned to spend the rest of the day on the couch sleeping a little more. In my mind, the effort of moving from the bed to the couch was enough.

  Hey, at least I’d move. That should count for something.

  But when the ringing stopped and her voice echoed through my apartment, I knew my plans were about to change. And for about the hundredth time in our friendship, I tried to decide what form of torture I would use to repay her for the annoyance. The woman was certifiably insane.

  “Ignoring my calls will not make me go away,” she singsonged, which only further grated on my nerves. I pulled the pillow over my head and held it firmly in place, blocking out her voice as much as I could.

  Go away, go away, I chanted in my mind—at least I thought it was only in my mind.

  “I will not go away,” Kim said as she yanked the pillow away, flooding my eyes with light. She had drawn back all the curtains and opened the blinds. I suddenly felt like I was in some horror movie where I was lying on an operating table, looking up as the doctors hovered over me with demonic smiles on their faces. Only in my case, my best friend was the demon and I was about to retaliate.

  “What is wrong with you?” I groaned as I rolled to my side, taking my comforter with me. “Have you lost your damn mind, woman?”

  “Stop being a baby and move your ass.” She slapped my left ass cheek, making me yelp in surprise. And yet another vision of torturing my pixie-haired best friend flashed through my mind. Only this time I smiled wide at my devious thoughts.

  “You should know that you look like the Joker right now,” she said.

  With my eyes closed tightly, I allowed the vision to continue. “Maybe, but in my mind, you are bald, wearing a straitjacket, and kicking your legs like a two-year-old.” I slowly opened my eyes to find her standing next to my bed, arms crossed over her chest and an eyebrow cocked in question. “What?” I asked, still grinning.

  “You’re so weird,” she replied without even the slightest bit of a smile. “Freakishly weird,” she added before turning her back to me.

  Kimmy walked out of the room, shaking her head in disbelief, or maybe exasperation, the entire way. “You have five minutes to be out of bed, or I’ll be back with a pitcher of ice-cold water,” she called from the hallway. “And before you decide to test me, you need to remember the last time you thought I was bluffing.” Her laughter echoed through the hallway as she walked away.

  She was the weird one. Who dumps ice water on a sleeping friend or tosses a fake snake into the shower while another person is in there?

  The woman was evil, but I loved her to death. She and I had been inseparable since birth. Our mothers were best friends, so we were raised side by side, and I couldn’t imagine my life without her.

  We moved to New York together and planned to take on the city as a team. But shortly after that, she met Rick and left me alone in this two-bedroom apartment. I couldn’t blame her, though. Rick was good for her, and he worshipped her. So if I had to lose her to anyone, I’m glad it was to someone as kind and caring as him.

  If I was being truthful, though, I did kind of miss our nights of excessive drinking and binge-eating while watching chick flicks.

  After I splashed some cold water on my face and slipped on some pajama pants, I met her in the kitchen. Smiling, she pointed toward the countertop, where she’d laid out bagels, cream cheese, and coffee.

  “Forgiven?” she asked, sounding hopeful.

  I sat on the barstool opposite her. “I don’t know, is that cinnamon raisin?” I asked, knowing already that it was. She wouldn’t dare bring me a bagel if it wasn’t my favorite kind.

  “And cinnamon spread with a vanilla latte,” she said reassuringly, looking mighty pleased with herself.

  “Fine,” I said, trying not to smile as I moved in toward the scrumptious treat. “You’re forgiven.”

  “We have an appointment in an hour for our mani-pedi, and then at four for our hair,” Kim stated as she turned, opened the refrigerator, and reached in to grab a water bottle. “That gives us just enough time to return home to finish our makeup before Rick sends the car to pick us up.”

  I sat with my bagel hovering before my lips. The yummy scent filled my nostrils, but confusion overpowered my hunger.

  When she finally noticed I was staring at her. She rolled her eyes and moved in closer, placing her water on the counter. “You forgot,” she said, resting her hands on the countertop on either side of her water. “Rick’s promotion, the party.” She narrowed her eyes and leaned in. “You promised me two weeks ago that you would accompany me. I refused to be stuck with a bunch of men, but you insisted I should go because you would be there to save me from boredom. Remember?”

  Her glare told me loud and clear that I better not say I didn’t.

  The entire thing slowly came back to me.

  “That’s tonight?” I asked before finally taking a bite.

  She nodded, and I could sense she was in no way going to let me out of this.

  “You better be glad I love you as much as I do,” I told her as I grabbed my coffee and stood from the stool. “I’m showering, and if you think of throwing anything in there while I’m doing so, I swear I will shave your head.”

  Her laughter followed me down the hall, and I could still hear it when I closed the bathroom door. So just for safe measure, I grabbed the chair from my vanity and propped it beneath the handle. If she was going to force me to hang out in a nightclub with a bunch of stuffy corporate bigwigs, I was going to at least enjoy a fifteen minute shower without fear of inanimate flying objects or slimy things making an unwanted visit.
r />   “Rosa, my dear, sweet Rosa, you know just how to make me melt,” the man sitting next to me in the spa said before letting out a deep, exaggerated moan. My eyes widened as I turned away from him and attempted to hide my smile. “Each moment with you is orgasmic, my sweet lovebug,” he cooed, and I snickered, biting my bottom lip in an attempt to hide it.

  I was doing a good job at it too, until I looked up to find Kimmy leaning forward and peering past me, eyes wide as she stared at the man. She wore a look of pure amazement, as if he were some mythical creature, a unicorn, maybe.

  I tried to stop her, I truly did, but she was too focused on the guy for me to distract her.

  “Lex, I look forward to your weekly visits because they always bring me equal pleasure,” the spa technician told the man, yet I still couldn’t force myself to turn back around to look. I knew if I did I, would lose the last remaining amount of control I had. He was making sounds that closely resembled those of a man in the throes of heated passion, which only grew louder as the technician massaged his feet. Combined with the expression on Kimmy’s face, it was entirely too much. I couldn’t take it any longer.

  The laughter fell from me loudly as I doubled over in my chair, holding my stomach. I kept laughing until my ribs ached and tears ran down my cheeks.

  When I was finally able to regain some control, I sat up and found that everyone in the salon was now staring at me.

  “What?” I asked as I scanned the room before my gaze finally landed on the man at my side. He was the only one not staring at me with a look of confusion—or mortification in Kim’s case.

  Instead, he was smiling bright with his head cocked to the side.

  “Are you ticklish?” he asked me with a wink as he pointed toward the woman who was slowly massaging my foot while looking at me as if I was insane. He was giving me a way out. A way to prove I hadn’t lost my damn mind.

  I nodded and squared my shoulders, sitting upright and staring ahead, doing my best to hold it together.

 

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