Love in Scrubs Book 1
by AJ Renee
Genre: Contemporary Romance
From the author of the St. Fleur series comes a fun tale of finding love in the emergency room.
The single life had been treating Hazel Rivera better than she’d anticipated. With no one to report to, she did as she pleased, which included if and when she’d have a man in her bed. She felt no shame in satisfying her own needs, but when toy-play goes wrong, she earns herself a visit to the emergency room.
Squirming in pain, the last thing she expected was to find a sexy nurse assigned to her room. She could lose herself in a man like him—sinful eyes, full lips, and a kindhearted attitude—but before she can catch Joshua Bradley again, she’s sent home.
When life hands them a second chance, will they risk their hearts?
“What brings you in tonight?”
“I’m experiencing a burning sensation…” I say, still debating how to get the right words out.
“Is it in your chest?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Well okay. How about you give me your info, and we’ll have you checked in so you can be seen?”
I nod and give her my name. She asks me a series of questions which I answer quickly, doing my best not to squirm. I extend my arm, and she puts a band around my wrist with my information.
The burning is worsening with each passing minute. I imagine little creatures hanging out around a bonfire inside my vaginal cavity before I breathe in deeply through my nose.
“You okay, Hazel?” she asks, seeing my pain.
Shaking my head, I lean my elbows onto the counter.
“I’ll be right back, hon, and we’ll have you sorted,” she says and disappears the way she came.
Looking around the room, hoping to distract myself from the growing pain, I see the furniture looks newer. A TV is on in the corner, its volume nearly muted as infomercials play. My eyes catch sight of the clock, where I see it’s nearly one in the morning.
“Rivera?” a nurse asks from my left.
“Follow me and we’ll get you into triage.”
We walk down a long hallway, and I hear beeping from a few machines. Rustling and murmuring comes from a room we pass, and I get a glimpse of a patient being tended to. The nurse helps me into a bed and does my vitals. Before she finishes, a man rolls in a computer and asks a variety of insurance-related questions.
Throughout this process, they ask me numerous times why I’m here. Their posture calms when I tell them my heart and head feel fine. The burning sensation causes me to suck in air, my nostrils flaring with each pass.
“Hazel Rivera?” a deep voice asks. I haven’t heard this voice yet tonight, and my eyes pop open and meet sin. His are dark pits, promising naughty things—things which wouldn’t leave me burning and wondering if my vagina will ever recover.
It was just my luck to have Mr. Sinfully Gorgeous treat me for my flaming pussy.
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Love in Scrubs Book 2
Being stood up for a first date was the last thing on Ava King’s mind. Yet Mr. Wrong opened the door to Mr. Sexy, who’s already sitting next to her at the bar. One drink becomes two, and going against her own code, she goes home with the charming stranger.
Waking in Jason’s foreign bed sends her into a panic, and she escapes before any morning-after awkwardness can ensue.
Can fate bring them together again to see if their chemistry transcends one steamy night of passion?
“By far the best meatloaf I’ve ever eaten. Don’t tell my mother I said that.”
The praise brings me joy. “I’m glad you think so, and I wouldn’t dare tell her our secret.”
Jason helps me clear the table and insists he help with cleanup. He washes the dishes, mentioning he doesn’t know where anything goes. Side by side we work, the heat of his body reminding me where I want our night to go.
“That’s the last of it,” he says, wiping his hands on the towel.
“Thank you. I could have done it myself, but you made it much easier.”
His pupils darken, and he steps closer. He sets his hands on my hips, and I place mine on his arms. “When a woman makes you dinner, the least you can do is thank her.” His voice is husky and low. It draws me closer, and I rise to my toes.
“You did thank me,” I whisper against his lips.
Jason closes the gap, and my mouth opens immediately. I welcome him in, eager for the sweet assault to come.
I run my hands up his arm until my fingers find his hair. It’s soft and a bit long in the back. I press him closer, and his arms band around my waist. I can make out his hard length with our bodies pressed together, and I moan. Releasing his head, my hands roam over him, and I reacquaint myself with his body, wishing there was less in the way.
We’re still standing in the middle of my kitchen. A little part of me fears he’ll stop us on account of not rushing things. I don’t want that. Carefully, I tug on his shirt until I free it from his pants, and he pulls back.
Jason’s eyes are glazed with desire, and it’s the best they’ve ever looked. I give him a shy smile and pepper kisses along his jaw and down his neck. I taste every inch of skin I can reach, and his hands glide over my top.
My nerves settle when he doesn’t stop us. He kisses my neck, and I shiver immediately. My nipples harden with arousal, begging for his touch. I slide my hands to his chest and pop open one button and then the other before opening the undone shirt.
Forcing my heavy lids open, I stare at the skin I’ve exposed. I push the shirt over his shoulders, and it slides to the floor when he lowers his arms. Raking my fingernails along his skin, I watch his muscles tighten.
Before I can press my lips to him, Jason finds the hem to my blouse and whips it over my head.
Love in Scrubs Book Three
Nurse. Mom. Daughter. Natalia Kruze wore many hats, but mom was the role she was most proud of. As a single mom, she couldn’t be everywhere at once, but she had been blessed with a patient son and helpful parents. Dating wasn’t high on the priority list, so it was safe to say it had been years since she’d experienced any kind of electrifying spark from a man.
With her defenses low after missing another soccer game, a patient catches her eye. Sexy and decidedly stubborn, Wes Wilkins succeeds in leaving his ER visit with her number.
Had they finally found the love they deserved, or will they put their dreams second to their kids’ needs?
“Jeremy!” I yell and stare at the pile of clothes next to the hamper.
My eyes narrow on my son’s beautiful face, and I remind myself how much I adore him. “Excuse me?”
I nod. “Were you working on your basketball skills and failed?”
Jeremy looks from me to the pile I’m still pointing at. “Oh.”
I exhale with exasperation. “Look, honey, we need to work like a team. Please clean up. I need to get you to school so I can start my shift. Don’t forget I won’t make it to today’s game. I’ll be home right after, so grab a ride with Mrs. Sanders if Grandma and Pops aren’t there.”
After kissing his temple, seeing as I can no longer reach the top of his head, I rush to plate the breakfast I threw together for us. This is my life. It may not have turned out like I dreamed, but I wouldn’t trade Jeremy in for the world.
I was a young mother at twenty-one—not quite a teen pregnancy but still hard. Jeremy’s father decided rather quickly fatherhood wasn’t for him and left us the moment two lines appeared. Thankfully, my parents stepped in and helped us. I managed to finish my Bachelor of Science in nursing with their assistance. I can’t count the number of times I showed up to class with spit-up on me. I’m sure if they swabbed my clothes in one of my labs, they would have found all sorts of new-mother fun.
After fourteen years of doing the parenting gig on my own, I can safely say it’s still a challenge. Dating is rare, and my parents are still around to help. I don’t ask for a lot of help now that Jeremy is older, but they still have us visit often.
Jeremy runs into the kitchen, backpack in hand, and picks up the fork on his plate. In a matter of moments, the plate is devoid of the eggs and toast I put on it. My kid looks up at me and to the stove, looking for the pan I already put in the dishwasher. “No more?”
“Grab a banana. We gotta go,” I tell him and toss my wallet into a small bag.
He grunts and carries his plate straight to the dishwasher without rinsing it. I sigh but don’t say a word. Over the years I’ve become better at picking my battles, and this isn’t one.
When we get to his school, we exchange “I love yous,” and I pat his thigh good-bye. When he leans over and hugs me, I smile. Squeezing him, I enjoy the rare treat of a teenage hug at school.
My next stop, after watching him walk up the steps, is coffee. Thursday mornings are my designated java pick-up days. I rattle off four different orders and drive the last few blocks to work once I have them.
“Thank God!” Jenna cries and plucks her order from the carrier.
“One of those mornings?” I ask and set the rest on a table.
“One word. Puberty.” Jenna drinks a healthy gulp of joe.
I nod and lock up my things. “Gotcha. I’ll be missing yet another of Jeremy’s games if it makes you feel any better.” Jenna shoots me a meaningful look. She may not be a single mom like I am, but she misses her own share of activities. “Well, here’s hoping today is an easy one.”
Later that evening, I look at the clock and sigh. Jeremy’s game is halfway through by now, which means my guilt is high and I’m almost through with my twelve-hour shift. I hate missing so many of his games. These are moments I know I can’t get back. It hurts the worst when I see understanding in Jeremy’s eyes versus anger or frustration.
He’s a great kid. He does well in school, gives me very little attitude, and is talented in sports. I’m hoping if he keeps it up, he can earn a scholarship for college, but we have a few years left to really worry about that.
“Hey, stop that!” Jenna scolds.
“Stop what?” I ask and set down the marker I was using.
Jenna waves her hand around my face. “That. Honey, I know you hate missing his games, but he understands, so quit beating yourself up about it.”
“That’s the problem, Jenna.” I sigh. “He’s only a boy. He shouldn’t have to be this understanding about all the games I miss.”
“No, he shouldn’t, but life isn’t fair. You’ve got a great kid, girl. No matter what you think, you’re doing really well by him.”
“Natalia?” Kara, another nurse on shift, calls out.
“You’ve got a live one in room one.”
I nod and squeeze past Jenna who pats me on my back. “On my way.”
Pulling up the patient’s admittance tab on the computer, I read the notes and frown. Forty-year-old male with testicular pain. Walking down the hall toward the triage room, I sift through my knowledge of all the possible things responsible for testicular pain.
Once I learned I was having a boy, I put in extra focus into male anatomy and physiology. I was determined to keep my boy safe and healthy to my best ability. This thankfully helped me tackle those not-so-fun talks about puberty.
Any other words centered around good bedside manners blank in my brain the moment our eyes meet. Crap.
His crew-cut hairstyle highlights his strong jaw. A light smattering of hair grows along it, and my hand itches with the need to see if it will feel soft or rough along my palm. His jaw twitches, and I find a sheen of sweat on his brow. The pain reflecting in his hazel eyes pulls me back from my fog.
I clear my throat and hope I’m not blushing. “What brings you in this evening, Mr.—”
“Wilkins. Call me Wes. I don’t suppose there’s a male nurse on staff?”
My brows knit at his tone. “Sorry, there’s not,” I say. “What’s bothering you that a female nurse can’t help you with?”
“No, it’s not—” He attempts to sit up, and he grunts in pain.
I move to his side. “Lie back down,” I tell him gently.
“S-sorry. Don’t mean to be an ass.”
Concern fills me at his words and the way his eyelids lower in pain. “Talk to me. There’s no reason for you to suffer any pain. I assure you I can help even if I don’t have the same parts as you.”
“Definitely don’t have the same parts,” he mumbles. He draws in a deep breath and clears his throat. “My testicles hurt, and they’re swollen.”
“Okay, did you sustain an injury to them?” I ask reassuringly.
He looks away, and his words are too soft to hear.
I place my hand on his shoulder, and a weird sensation travels up my arm at the contact. He turns toward me, and I see he felt whatever just happened. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me,” I say, ignoring the strange event and removing my hand.
“I had a vasectomy yesterday.”
“Okay.” I think of common complications that could occur with the procedure. “Swelling and discomfort are common in the first forty-eight hours—”
His lips pull into a hard line. “It looks like I have three testicles.”
My eyebrow raises. “Three?”
“Okay. We’ll look at it in a second. What have you done in the last twelve hours?”
His eyes dart away again, and I realize whatever he’s been doing was not what his doctor ordered. “Come on, fess up. If your testicles are this swollen, you weren’t lying down and resting like I’m sure your doctor ordered,” I say in my mom voice.
“I was at my kids’ baseball game…”
The way he says it leaves me thinking there is more. “Mhmm… sitting on the stands?”
He shakes his head. “No, coaching.”
“I see. Did anything happen, since I expect you weren’t sitting in a chair relaxing while you coached?”
“One of the boys fell. I, um, helped him up, and that’s when I stumbled in pain.”
“I don’t suppose you coach toddlers?” I ask, knowing he’s going to say no.
“Definitely surpasses the ten-pound weight restriction.”
His eyebrows snap together. “Look, I wasn’t going to miss the game!”
I raise my hands in the air. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any offense. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been here all day, and I missed my son’s baseball game tonight. One of many.” I whisper the latter and turn away. “I’ll go see if the doctor is available to perform your exam.”
“Wait!” he calls out when I reach the door.
I stop but don’t face him. I can’t. If I do, he’ll see the tears forming. I’m never this short with my patients. I chalk it up to my emotions after missing out on another event in Jeremy’s life.
After a moment, he apologizes and I walk out. This handsome stranger has pressed more conflicting buttons than I care to admit. Ignoring the fact that a man hasn’t managed to fluster both me and my lady bits in… well, ever, he’s a patient and therefore off-limits.
AJ Renee is the author behind the St. Fleur series, Beauty Unmasked, Winter's Surprise, Surviving Paris, Finding Love at the Falls..., and Kylie: Crossing Lines. She's a military wife and mother to three young girls. She graduated from the University of Central Florida with her Master of Science in Criminal Justice and a Bachelor of Science in Psychology while working at the library.
She loves to write steamy romance with suspense and a happily ever after. When she isn't writing or interacting with her readers, you can find her spending time with her family or reading. AJ enjoys traveling, researching family history, and all things New Orleans.
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