Page 5 of Cherished By the Fearless Mountain Man

I grin.“See you tomorrow, Brock.”

I head back to my car with a spring in my step.God, that smile… It should be illegal.It makes my heart do things it has no business doing when it comes to a patient.I shouldn’t get carried away like this.I’m a home nurse.A professional.

Truth is, nothing about today felt professional.Not the way my heart raced every time our eyes met, or how I lingered longer than necessary when checking his bandages.And definitely not the way my stomach flipped when he said “Nurse Willa.”

I try to block any thoughts of him and grab my papers with the details of my next patient, even though I’m already dreaming about seeing Brock again.

Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

Chapter Three

Brock

The front door opens, and the familiar voices of my brother and sister echo through the house.

“Brock?”Callie calls out.“We brought coffee and those disgusting protein bars you like.”

“In the living room,” I answer, my voice rough and hoarse from a lack of sleep.

Archer appears first, filling the doorframe with his broad shoulders, followed by Callie, who’s carrying a cardboard tray of coffee cups.They both stop short when they see me.

“Jesus, you look like hell,” Archer says, confirming how I feel.

“Thanks, I guess.”I try to sit up straighter and wince as the movement pulls at my stitches.

Callie sets the tray of coffee cups on the side table next to the couch and gives me a once-over, scrunching her nose.“When’s the last time you showered?Or changed clothes?”

I glance down at the same t-shirt I’ve been wearing for the past two days.“I’m okay.”

“You don’tsmellokay,” Archer says.

“Should we help you into the shower?”Callie asks.

Archer gives her a look.“Can’t we ask that home nurse to help him with that?I don’t want to wash my brother’s… well, you know.”

“Guys, stop.I’m not asking Willa to wash me.I’m fine.”

There’s no way in hell I’d let Willa help me get cleaned up.I can’t have her seeing me like this.Helpless, needing someone to scrub my back like I’m a ninety-seven-year-old man in a nursing home.No thanks.

“Willa?”Callie raises an eyebrow.“That’s her name?”

I grab one of the coffee cups, hoping they’ll drop the subject.“Yeah.Nurses have names, too, you know.”

“Pretty name,” Archer says with a stupid grin.“Is she pretty too?”

“She’s my nurse.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Callie kicks his shin.“Leave him alone.”

But Archer’s like a dog with a bone when he gets an idea.“I’m just saying, maybe that’s why our brother suddenly cares about personal hygiene.When’s she coming by today?”

I check the clock on the wall.Nine-fifteen.Willa usually shows up around ten.“Soon.”

“Aha!”Archer points at me like he’s solved some great mystery.“You want to look good for her.”

“I want to not smell like a garbage truck when a medical professional is trying to do her job,” I lie.

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