One

A

nother heavy sigh deflated Jolene Spencer’s chest as she plugged a patient’s stats into the computer. A bus accident, a barroom brawl, and a shooting, added to the normal stuff that sent people to the emergency room in the middle of the night, had made this shift more grueling than typical.

“What’re you still doing here?”

“You know how it is. Never-ending paperwork.” Jo spared a glance at Shantille. A cat print covered her scrubs. Yesterday morning it was zebras and the morning before that, butterflies. For practical reasons, Jo wore the same teal-colored scrubs every day. Nothing to match up that way.

“Hmm, you’ll be outta here in a matter of minutes. What about me, coming into this mess and knowing I’ve got at least twelve more hours ahead of me?” A shake of her head sent Shantille’s long, black ponytail swinging. “Day hasn’t even started yet and I already need a break.”

“At least you got to sleep last night like a normal person.”

“If you hate night shift so much, why don’t you come back to work with me?”

Jo pursed her lips and gave Shantille a look. “You know why.”

“Uh huh, and he’s coming this way.” After delivering her whispered warning, Shantille scurried off in the opposite direction.

Every muscle in Jolene’s body tightened to high alert, but she never looked up from her work. Nice going, Shantille. A true friend would’ve stuck around.

Dr. Tage Buford was the reason Jo now worked the night shift despite the fact that she hated it. He was the cause of the shame that plagued her every waking moment. And why there would never be another love in her life. How could there be when her heart would always belong to him, but he belonged to another?

The familiar bay rum scent of Tage’s bodywash greeted her before he did, awakening a craving for the man that Jo had been trying to rein in for seven long months now. They’d had an on and off again relationship for the last four years and she was determined this would be the final off.

But honestly, it was pure torture.

“I heard you had a busy night.”

Fingers frozen over the keyboard in front of her and unseeing eyes staring at the computer screen, Jo could only hum a reply. She knew from experience that it was best not to speak. It only encouraged conversation unrelated to work, which led to casual touches accompanied by deceitful persuading on his part for them to resume their affair.

Something hard touched her elbow. From the corner of her eye, she watched as the end of his pen moved up her bare arm raising goosebumps in its wake.

Tage lowered his voice and leaned closer. “I hear your mother’s cancer has returned. How is she doing?”

Jo winced and tried to regain her bearings. She hadn’t expected the question nor the sound of concern in his voice.

Her mother had fought a battle against breast cancer almost three years ago. It showed up again last fall on her ribs, liver, and stomach. Cancer seemed determined to take her momma, and Ma seemed determined to let it. Jo gritted her teeth against the onslaught of memories—her mother’s decision to let nature take its course, to only treat the pain, not giving in no matter how hard Jo tried to convince her to fight for her life.

Stubborn woman.

Jo glanced sideways at Tage. She knew he wore the same baby blue scrubs every day because they matched the color of his eyes. His brown hair looked freshly styled and would remain that way until the very end of the long shift because he used an extra stiffening hair gel which she had tirelessly teased him about. She even knew what type of toothpaste the man used and that he brushed his teeth twice during each twelve-hour shift. How could she have allowed herself to get so caught up in a man who could never be hers?

Jolene debated whether to answer his question, but what harm could come from talking about her mother? “She’s doing well, considering.”

“Glad to hear it. You let me know if there is anything I can do to help. I mean that, Jo.”

“Thanks.”

He’d never even met Leora Spencer. She wasn’t even a patient at this hospital. What could he ever do to help? Then again, the same sentiment had been passed on from each of her coworkers. It was just something people said when they wanted to show their support, knowing they’d never be asked to do anything.

“I hate to think of you going through this alone.”

“I’m not alone. I have my family.”

He leaned into her, his minty breath brushing against her skin as he whispered into her ear worked at odds against her determination. “Family can’t give the same comfort I always could.”

True. But what about all the fights, the breakups, and the crushing guilt?

His hand, rather than his pen, now stroked her arm. Despite her efforts to steel her mind against his advances, her body responded to the familiar touch by sending heat through her core. She momentarily closed her eyes and leaned slightly toward him. Why was it so hard to resist him? And how did they end up being alone?

She opened her eyes and looked around for Shantille. Anyone, for that matter. This was a busy hospital. Where was help when she needed it?

He’s using your mother’s illness to get you back into the role of being his mistress.

Sick.

The random thought came in loud and clear as if it had been transmitted into her brain telepathically. Hot anger followed in its path. One look in his direction and Tage was pulling away from her before Jo ever spoke a word.

“My family is way more loyal and dependable than you’ll ever be. How much of a comfort were you to your wife when she found out you were cheating, huh?”

After hurling a few choice words at her that included a moniker that would have her brothers wanting to plow his face if they heard it, he left.

The space around Jo’s workstation suddenly came to life. Covert looks aimed her way as nurses rushed by in pursuit of the never-ending work. Jo’s cheeks and neck burned like too much time exposed to the sun. Did everyone in the ER know about her and Dr. Buford?

Shantille reached past Jo to grab a clipboard. She had been the sole witness to one of the breakups between Jo and Tage and was the only person Jo had ever talked to about him. Well, besides her sister. After this last breakup, Jo had spilled everything to Belva in hopes it would help keep her on the straight and narrow. She wanted to be done with Tage Buford but had already proven weak in that area.

Jo spoke softly to Shantille without looking her way. “Where were you? I kept hoping you’d come save me from that vulture.”

“Girl, I don’t know why you’re fighting it. The man’s obviously in love.”

“If he’s in love with anyone, it’s himself. Besides, you and everyone else around here know he’s married.”

“So. Affairs happen and so does divorce. It’s a fact of life these days, honey.” She shrugged. “No big deal.”

“It is in my family. My daddy is probably turning over in his grave. And my momma…” She shook her head without finishing the sentence.

If her momma knew she’d been having an affair with a married man, it would break her heart. Hopefully, she’d never find out. If Jo could keep her head down and stay away from Tage Buford, her momma never would.

Shantille grabbed Jo’s arm and arrested her attention. “I take back what I said. You’re right. Best stay away from that man. Y’all’ve had more breakups than an 80’s rock band as it is. And with the way things are going with your momma right now, you don’t need the extra drama. Next time I see him hanging on you like the leech that he is, I promise to wedge these big ol’ hips right in there between you. One bounce off of this booty and he’ll forget what he came for.”

Laughter eased the tension in Jo’s shoulders. “Your booty is not that big, but thanks. I needed that.”

Jo left work feeling a little lighter than expected. She’d rebuffed Tage’s efforts once again, and knowing she had a friend in her corner made it seem like next time would be easier. If only she could make her heart stand behind what her mind had decided, she could be free from the hold he had over her once and for all.