Uncovering Hope (Uncovering Love Book 3) (8 page)

“Nice to meet you Dr. Brooks.”

“Just call me Garrett, please.”

“Garrett.” God, even his name tastes good on my lips. He winks and walks away. I feel a blush creep up my neck. I’m glad he’s already halfway down the hall and not a witness to my school girl reaction.

I check my watch as I head toward the pharmacy.
Oh, shit
. Greta is bound to be on my case all night. There’s no way I’ll be back upstairs within a time frame that meets her approval. Full moon night shifts are always a bitch. Every. Damn. Time.

“Luis . . . Lights out bud.” I try for an authoritative tone, but this kid’s got me wrapped around his finger. Fourteen-years-old and battling cancer like a champ. He’s also quite the little charmer and I know for a fact he’s working me and the other nurses over for extra game time and popsicles, but we don’t care. He’s that good.

“Come on, one more hour. Please? I did chemo and took naps all day. I’m not even tired.”

I check his vitals and mark them on his chart before I meet his pleading eyes. “I don’t know . . .”

A knock at the door interrupts. It eases open and those chocolate eyes fill me with irritation. Derek gives a little wave and has the decency to look sheepish.

“You need to leave. You can’t be in here.”

“What?” He looks as if I’ve personally insulted him and I roll my eyes. His gaze leaves mine and travels to Luis and he gives him a nod. “I came in here to see if this kid wanted his ass handed to him in a game of Madden.”
Shit.

“Ha! I’ve been stuck in a hospital bed for three weeks. You’re getting
your
butt handed to you.” Luis grins. Derek makes his way inside, leans his guitar case against the wall, and pulls over a chair to sit next to Luis.

“Nurse Carly, please can I have one more hour? I finally have someone to play me.” Luis bats those eyes and how the hell can I turn down his simple request? I send one last glare at Derek.

“Yes, please, Nurse Carly.” Derek flips his tongue piercing at me and I hold back the urge to roll my eyes.

“Okay. One hour. I’m setting my alarm and kicking him out when it goes off.” I point a warning finger at Derek. “Let me see your badge.” I nod and he hands it over. I check to verify he has the volunteer clearance to be left in the room and he does.

“Sweet!” Luis beams and I know I’ve made the right choice. Derek better be good to him, though something tells me he will. “Here’s your controller.” Luis hands the extra to Derek.

“Thanks. I gotta warn you, I’m pretty good for an old dude. I play lots of Xbox on the road.”

“Road?”

“Yeah, I’m in a band. Maybe you heard of us? Three Ugly Guys?”

“Shit!” Luis shouts.

“Language,” I chide as I jot a few final notes in his chart. I may also be stalling to listen in on their conversation.

“I’ve heard of you! Holy crap! I can’t believe Derek Taylor is in my room playing Madden with me!” Luis usually plays the cool teenager card, so the fact he’s this worked up over Derek’s arrival is entertaining to watch. He’s not even trying to play it off.

As I gently shut the door the sure sounds of smack talk and laughter follow me out into the hall. That Derek is making my favorite patient’s night warms my soul. He may be a famous rock star but right now he’s using his powers for good. There just might be more to Derek Taylor than I originally thought.

I check on my other patients and get sidelined with a little girl who’s having pain management issues. I don’t even hear my alarm go off and by the time I’ve finally got her calm and back asleep it’s just shy of midnight. I’m sure Derek’s long gone by now, but I should check on Luis anyway.

Hand on the knob I hear noises through the door and pause. The soft sounds of guitar and singing drift through the walls. He couldn’t still be here. Could he? I ease the door open and peek inside. What I see melts any remnants of ice frozen around my heart. Derek is strumming, guitar cradled in his expert arms, as his fingers dance nimbly across the strings. It’s a song I don’t recognize, and he sings soft and low. His voice isn’t perfect, which somehow makes him more endearing.

Luis holds two drum sticks and moves them over a worn white circular pad he’s balanced on his lap. Luis’ movements are awkward and off beat, but it doesn’t seem to bother Derek. His eyes are closed as he sings. A trace of a smile falls into place between lyrics.

I slip inside and wait until the song ends before intruding upon their moment.

“Bravo!” I clap and offer a sincere appreciation.

Derek shoots Luis a worried look.

“Busted.” He tells Luis before he meets my gaze. “Sorry, I know we’ve gone way past bedtime. Luis wanted to learn drums and we totally lost track of time. My bad.”

“It’s okay, just don’t let it happen again.”

Derek places his guitar back in its case and Luis tries to hand back the drum sticks.

“Nah, man. You keep those, and the practice pad. I’ll be back in a few nights. If that’s cool with you?” Derek slings his case over his shoulder and Luis nods.

“Yeah, that’s cool.” He must have regained his nonchalant teenage attitude while I was gone. I’m sure he’s more than excited.

“Okay, boys. Lights out, Luis. Derek, I’ll walk you out.”

Luis yawns and turns to his side. I flip the lights as he wraps the blanket around himself. Derek follows me out of the room and toward the bank of waiting elevators.

“You better come back. You can’t make promises like that if you don’t plan on keeping them. It means a lot to a kid like Luis.” We stop and he presses the down button.

“I know, Carly. I know exactly how much it means. That’s why I volunteer here.”

“Sorry. It’s just, Luis is a special kid.”

“He is, I can tell.” He reaches out and touches my arm with the tips of his fingers. His eyes are somber and stormy when he speaks. “He’s going to be all right? He’ll get better?”

I wish I could give him an answer, but the truth of the matter is I don’t know. We do the best we can for our patients but we hold no magic fix. It’s a part of the equation I’ve learned to accept. Derek’s eyes darken when I don’t respond and his fingers tighten around my arm. I don’t think he realizes he’s doing it.

“Derek. I don’t know. But I can tell you he has some of the best doctors in the world working his case. With the type of cancer he has, we have to wait and see. He’s doing great with this round of chemo and hopefully it works. It’s a process but he’s getting the best care possible.”

He nods, releases my arm, and the teasing glint comes back to his eyes. “So, you still set on not giving this hunky bastard a little lovin’? Maybe we could find an empty room or a supply closet and get busy?”

I punch him in the arm and he pretends it hurts. My lips pull into a smile and I shake my head.

“You’re horrible. Get out of here and go home.”

“Would you believe me if I told you this place feels like home?” He’s teasing but something in his words cause me to study his features. His relaxed body language, his apparently genuine smile, it does seem he’s way more comfortable in a hospital than any visitor should be.

Ding.

The elevator opens and he backs inside a half step so his body blocks the sensors. He reaches a hand out.

“Friends, then? If you don’t want to fuck me, maybe we should be friends? ’Cause I like you, Nurse Carly.” He wiggles his brows and I let loose a small laugh. I place my hand inside his much larger one. My insides tingle with the touch.

“Friends it is,” I say and shake his hand.

His smile widens and he drops my hand to back further inside the car.

“I’ll see you soon.” He winks and the doors begin to shut. “’Night, Carly.”

“Goodnight, Derek.”

HANDS IN MY POCKETS, I
whistle as I leave the hospital. It’s brighter than most nights and that’s when I notice the moon’s full. It looks fucking cool and casts shadows across the entire lot.

A chilly breeze blows and a movement near the emergency sign catches my eye. Some shady dude is leaning against a column staring directly at my approaching form. He wears worn jeans and a black shirt, and has tattoos up his arms and neck. He looks out of place. And because he’s just standing there staring, I go on alert.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” I nod and meet his stare.
Yeah, I see you, you creepy mother fucker.
The last thing I need is some stupid fight with a stranger, but I won’t let this idiot think he’s intimidating me. Who the fuck lurks around a children’s hospital parking lot after midnight?

He nods once and turns away, walking toward the drive that leads to the main road. Weird. His frame stays in my peripheral vision as I maintain a brisk pace to my vehicle. I’m relieved that he doesn’t look back, and he seems to leave.

When I hop inside my SUV I pull my phone from my back pocket and plug it into the charger. Oh, fuck.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Sarah.

Sure enough, I have four missed calls, two voicemails, and over ten messages from her number. Quickly scrolling, I see most are just choice words for standing her up tonight.

Fuck that. She’s not my girlfriend.

It was kind of a dick move on my part, though.

God, this is why I don’t date. Expectations and responsibilities. No fucking thank you. I’ll just hook up, get off, and be done with the thing. I rub my temples and blow out a breath. Well, considering I’m over two hours late for our rendezvous, I’ll deal with that shit tomorrow. I’m not even sure she’s worth it. An easy sure lay with nice tits and tight ass, yes, but I don’t want to give her the impression I want anything more. Calling her to pacify her pissed off feelings may do just that.

I pop in a piece of double mint chewing gum and select a satellite station to serenade me on the drive home. I’m in the mood for something classic and when AC/DC comes on with “Highway to Hell” I tap my hands across the steering wheel. My left foot bounces to the bass beat. I let myself zone out, the familiarity of the drive easy navigation. Before I know it, I’m pulling into my reserved spot.

The need to write is pulsing in my veins. I grab my guitar case and jog up the steps. Doesn’t matter it’s the middle of the night; when inspiration hits I run with it. Experience has taught if I don’t give in to the muse, I’ll lie awake for hours anyway.

I slip off my shoes and open my case. Pulling my baby out, I stroke the wood and give it a little tap. My coffee table is already scattered in note paper and pencils, ready and waiting for when the spark to write ignites.

My mind wanders to a gypsy woman with piercing green eyes. Magic, mystery, and enchantment surround her aura and I’m pulled tight by her grip. A soft, sultry chorus builds and I practice over and over again until the sound matches my mind’s eye.

Words tumble faster than I can scratch them across the lined paper. Full lips, sensuous, pouty and pink. Dark hair, long and soft curls covering tan skin and luscious curves.

My gypsy muse provides all the inspiration I need and before I know it I’ve got more than two pages of potential lyrics. I push record on my phone and make a rough copy.

A glance at the screen shows it’s exactly three thirty-three in the morning. I walk the short distance to the bathroom to discard my clothes. I hit the head and brush my teeth before stumbling into my bed. I plug in my phone and set the alarm so I don’t forget.