Sweet Surrender (2 page)

When he left them, she had been thirteen, and at that tender age she hadn’t been able to face the harsh reality that the image she had of her father had been horribly skewed. Seeing him through a little girl’s eyes as her beloved daddy, she dreamed only of the day he’d come back. Having forgiven him for so many disappointments over the years, long before he ever left, at the time, she would have forgiven him for this one too. Her love had been unconditional—despite the fact that he had never come to her softball games after promising when she was eight never to miss a single one. She’d accepted his excuse that he had to work, not seeing the pattern that had begun to emerge.

He had continued to let her down time and again. He’d missed open houses to meet her teachers, art shows, talent shows—like when she was ten and stood before a packed auditorium audience and sang ‘The Sign’ by Ace of Base with Rachel, when they were still tight, or the science fair in sixth grade when her mud-spewing volcano had won second prize. Yet, with a girl’s wide-eyed innocence, she’d lived for the times he was there and loved him all the same.

With his absence, each passing milestone added pain and resentment. Days had turned to weeks, then to months and to years. She blamed him for letting three birthdays pass without a word, tasted bitter disappointment when she needed him to teach her to drive and for not being there for her now for something that meant so much to her. The pedestal where she had placed her beloved father had cracked when her sweet sixteen came and went unrecognized. With each passing week and month without a word from him, it continued to crumble until one day the pedestal shattered into oblivion. Like Humpty Dumpty, it was beyond repair, never to be put back together again.

If he hadn’t left them destitute, things would be different. She would still be living in a decent house, in a nice neighborhood, instead of a tenement on wheels in a crowded trailer park. If he hadn’t run out on them, leaving her mother without a penny to their name, she would still have the diner and wouldn’t be working herself into an early grave. If he hadn’t abandoned them like a coward and left them flat broke, Jessie wouldn’t have to scrimp and save just to shop at thrift stores and consignment shops buying other girls’ castoffs.

She decided right then that her future would be different. She had the grades to get a scholarship. She would get a job that paid a good wage and be independent. Never would she rely solely on a man as her mother had, just to have the jerk pull the rug out from under her feet. Her mother often said, the only person a woman could rely on in life was herself, and Jessie had finally come to grips with how true that really was.

Chapter One

Twelve years later…

“Ready to order, hon?”

Marc glanced up in surprise. Lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed the waitress refilling his coffee cup. Lillian’s peeling and battered nametag had seen better days, and by the look of the bearer, so had she. The poor woman was dead on her feet, the same way he was after a twelve-hour day in surgery. They had that in common, the only difference, about one million dollars per year. He smiled kindly at her, taking in her frazzled appearance.

“Long day, Lillian?” Marc asked sympathetically.

“Pulling a double, which is par for the course around here. The tips are good and with the hospital right around the corner, we get a lot of good-looking young doctors like you, so who’s complaining. It’s Lily, by the way, I’ve been asking for a new nametag for years, but…” She shrugged. “Do you work at St. Joe’s?”

Marc smiled and answered politely, “I’m on the surgical staff there, yes.”

“Oh! My daughter recently got a job there. You might know her. She’s a registered nurse.”

“Yeah? Is she as pretty as her mother? If so, I’ll need her name and number to go, please.”

The waitress smiled at the unexpected compliment, which Marc knew instinctively she didn’t do very often.

“Oh, you are a charmer. Her name is Jessica and she’s a redhead. A little shorter than I am and much more, uh… well, voluptuous is a good word. She started in surgery about a week ago.” Lily eyed the name embroidered on his lab coat, which covered his scrubs. “Dr. Trent, is it? She’s having dinner at the counter.”

His eyes followed the direction of her pencil as she pointed. He didn’t see a redhead, only a very rotund man, a hot blonde in killer white shorts, and a long line of interested men on stools gawking as the blonde paid for her to-go order.

“I’ll tell her to keep her eyes out for you. You’re not married, are you?”

“Married?” Jared Baker laughed as he slid into the opposite side of the booth. “No woman would put up with this putz.”

Like him, his best friend since grade school was a surgeon on staff at St. Joseph’s Mercy Hospital, or St. Joe’s as the locals called it. Jared had also become his partner in the rehabilitation and sports medicine clinic they had opened a few years back.

“Butt out, I’m getting fixed up.” Marc winked outrageously at the older woman who was staring at Jared contemplatively.

“You’re a doctor too, aren’t you? I’ve seen you here for lunch before wearing scrubs.”

“Guilty as charged. Dr. Baker, at your service. I’m the better looking, more talented partner. Who are you fixing him up with?”

“Her pretty, curvy, redheaded daughter,” Marc growled mockingly, “so, once again, butt out, butthead.”

Lily laughed, giving Jared a once-over. “Two fine-looking charmers; my baby girl is going to have to be on her toes. I’ll tell her to be on the lookout for both of you.”

As the bells on the door jangled, announcing another customer, one of Lily’s tables called for her attention. She held up a finger asking for patience. “The natives are getting restless. I had better get a move on. The hot roast beef sandwich is on special today and I can recommend it. So what can I get you two?”

A minute later, she was off with their order for two specials.

* * *

Jessie was taking the last bite of her cheeseburger when her mother walked up. Heaving a tired sigh, she stuck her pencil behind her ear and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the old-fashioned lunch counter in front of her. Jessie thought she looked more exhausted than usual. Her cheeks were flushed and the bun that she wore low at the back of her head was slipping, a few tendrils of her thick, graying auburn hair having sprung free. Her uniform, the standard pink with the built-in pinafore type apron was graced with a large coffee stain near the pocket, an occupational hazard for a waitress.

“Order up, Lily,” the line cook yelled through the window. Jessie smiled in sympathy as her mom wearily stood up straight, while holding her lower back.

“Want a slice of pie, baby girl?”

“No. My rear end needs pie like Kim Kardashian needs butt implants.”

Her mother laughed tiredly and Jessie was impressed she’d gotten her pop-culture joke. “I’m gonna run. I’ve got my first on-call shift tonight and have to be at the hospital by six for a procedure.”

“Oh? Maybe you’ll get to scrub in with Dr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome in A5.”

Jessie, who worked her way through undergrad by waiting tables at the Telegraph Diner, knew A5 was a booth by the front windows. As she scanned the area, she couldn’t see A5 due to the very portly gentleman seated at the counter. She shrugged. “I’m not interested in Dr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome or Dr. Short and Pudgy for that matter. The only thing I’m interested in is getting a few hours of studying in for the big test I have on Friday.”

“It’s probably for the best. He seems like the kind of doctor who has a favorite nurse on every floor and a few stashed in each supply closet or on-call room.”

“You watch too much TV, mom. That kind of stuff doesn’t really go on in hospitals, and Dr. McDreamy is simply a myth.”

“Whatever you say, baby girl, just steer clear of an Italian Don Juan with yummy brown eyes and perfect teeth by the name of Dr. Trent.”

The name was familiar from the surgical board, except Jessie, who had only been there a week, hadn’t had the pleasure. “There’s also a Dr. Baker who’s easy on the eyes; however, I’m not interested in a hospital fling or romance of any kind. I don’t have time.”

“He’s over there too.”

Curious, Jessie’s eyes flicked that way. A second later, she shook her head. “No. It’s not a good time for love and never at work.”

“If you ask me, there is never a good time for love. It’s way overrated.” After all this time, her eyes still looked wounded. “Never mind that, could I interest you in dinner on Sunday? I’m off.”

“Me too, so it’s a date. I’ve got a study group at two o’clock, is five okay?”

“You got it, sweets.”

A bell rang impatiently several times. “Pick up, Lillian.” This time the cook’s tone held more than a thread of irritation.

“Gotta run.”

“Love you, mom.” Jessie leaned across and gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, then hopped from her stool. She saw a flash of blue scrubs to her left as she walked out the door and congratulated herself for resisting the urge to look. Men did not fit into her five-year plan, maybe not in her ten-year plan either, if at all.

* * *

While they scarfed down their meals before heading back to the hospital for evening surgery, Jared, who was on call, fielded several calls from the post-op floor and the ER. As he gave pre-op orders on an elderly woman with a fractured hip, Marc considered his friend. Jared was what women called the strong, silent type. He was a great guy, fun to be with, and a very talented surgeon, but had a more serious personality.

Marc, on the other hand, was more outgoing, enjoying a night out with the guys at a sports bar, or charming and flirting with the ladies at a local club. He could be serious, of course, and prided himself in the care he gave his patients; he’d just rather have fun while doing it. He found, however, that working sixteen-hour days between the OR and the clinic severely limited his social schedule. Recently, he’d decided that at thirty-five, cruising for chicks at bars, which were generally meat markets, had lost its appeal.

With his options narrowed, he’d begun doing exactly what he’d been warned not to do. He’d started dating within the hospital. Over the course of the past year, he’d dated a few nurses and one of the other physicians, luckily outside of the surgical department. He’d also dated a very lovely nurse’s assistant. He’d also quickly learned why most companies had a no-fraternization policy.

None of the brief liaisons had worked out. The only thing he’d accomplished was to make himself the star of the hospital grapevine. Rumors flew at high velocity. If he smiled at a nurse or God forbid spoke to one, the grossly inaccurate and terrifyingly efficient gossip mill had them dating and broken up before the day ended.

If he had to listen to Jared say ‘I told you so’ one more time, he’d be sick. Jared’s father, who was also a physician and on staff at the hospital, had taken him aside one day for a word of caution. “Don’t get your honey where you get your money, son. I thought Jared would have warned you about that by now.” Marc had simply gritted his teeth and thanked him for his advice.

When his last relationship ended cordially, the rumor mill had it ending in a knockdown drag-out fight in the middle of the cafeteria. That had been the final straw for him. He’d taken all the sage advice to heart and vowed not to date anyone who worked at or was associated with St. Joe’s or the clinic. He was through, finished, caput… case closed.

Jared was busy scribbling some notes on a napkin when movement at the counter caught Marc’s eye. With the large man gone, he now had a clear view of the entire lunch counter. His eyes immediately zoned in on the stunning redhead at the far end who was deep in conversation with their waitress, Lily. This had to be the daughter. What had she said her name was? He frowned, unable to recall.

Mom had been wrong about her. She wasn’t merely pretty; she was a knockout, at least what he could see of her from behind the tall counter. She was talking animatedly with her hands, which made her round breasts bounce delightfully with every gesture. He couldn’t pull his eyes away.

“What are you gawking at?” Jared asked, turning in his seat.

As soon as he did, the redhead stood and gave them a spectacular view of a narrow waist and nicely rounded hips. When she leaned across the counter to give her mother a quick hug, her shirt rode up, exposing the small of her back. Marc’s eyes widened next when she straightened and her top didn’t fall back into place. His avid gaze dipped to the area of smooth fair skin exposed below her tee. She was magnificent and those tits—a D cup in his expert opinion—made his mouth water and his dick stir.

Jared’s appreciative soft whistle told him he’d seen her as well. For some reason that made him want to smack his friend, especially when he stared right along with him as she walked toward the door. Marc shifted uncomfortably as he took in the short skirt that flared out at mid-thigh and twitched as her phenomenal ass moved beneath it.

“God, I love a woman in a skirt,” he murmured, only half to himself.

“You’d love a woman in a shroud,” Jared returned with a laugh. “That’s the daughter, I’m guessing.”

“Yeah, what did she say her name was?”

As the door closed behind a stellar pair of legs in four-inch heels, Jared looked his way.

“Poor bastard,” Jared answered in sympathy, “so much for your vow not to date in house. You’re screwed, pal. She’s exactly your type.”

“No, not this time, I’ve finally wised up. I’m not going down that road again, even for a sizzling hot redhead.” He met Jared’s gaze as he added, “This is a sad commentary on our lives, bud; beautiful women always walking away.”

Chapter Two

He was scrubbing at the sink when Josie the OR supervisor walked up beside him, grabbed a scrub brush, and stepped on the foot pedals. As she began to soap up, she told him her news.