Joshua
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?
EXCERPT 1:
“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?”
“No,
ma’am.”
“Your
head?”
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.
I nod.
“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.
Fuck me.
**Get
it FREE Aug 22nd – 26th!!**
Jason
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.
Wes
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?
Natalia
“Jeremy!”
I yell and stare at the pile of clothes next
to the hamper.
“What?”
My eyes
narrow on my son’s beautiful face, and I remind myself how much I adore him.
“Excuse me?”
“Yes,
ma’am?”
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.
“Bye,
honey.”
“Bye,
Mom.”
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.
“Yeah?”
“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.
“Good
evening—”
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?”
“Yes.”
“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.
“No,
freshmen.”
“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.
Website
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