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Authors: Amy Vastine

BOOK: The Best Laid Plans
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“There’s one more present,” Simon said with a big grin.

Emma watched as Max stepped up to the table empty-handed. Kendall’s confusion quickly faded at the sight of him. In that moment, it was clear she knew exactly what was happening.

Max dropped to one knee and the two little boys followed suit. “I like how the four of us hold hands when we cross the street. I like how serious you get during innocent games of Go Fish,” he said, causing Kendall to laugh through her tears. “I like that whenever you buy Simon something, you think about Aidan, too. I like that we rely on one another and that it’s not nearly as scary as we both thought it would be. I like you, Kendall. And it may be weird, but I think liking you is even more important than loving you, which I also do. I love you more than I ever thought possible.”

“I like you and love you, too,” Kendall managed to choke out.

Max reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring box. Emma’s own heart melted in her chest. She could only imagine how it felt to be Kendall right now—cherished, wanted, so very loved. She couldn’t wait for it to be her turn at this kind of romance.

“Kendall, I like it that we already act like a family.” Opening the box, he presented her with a ring. “Will you marry me and make it official?”

“Please!” Simon and Aidan shouted from either side of him.

How could her sister say no to that? Emma watched as the soon-to-be family hugged and Kendall accepted the proposal. The entire restaurant erupted in applause. Even Lucy, the hopeless unromantic of the family, snatched up her napkin and dried her eyes.

“We’ll take the boys home so you guys can continue your celebration,” Emma said after getting her own hug from Kendall.

“Don’t worry about it. I got them a babysitter.” Max nodded behind him. Standing out like a sore thumb amongst all the servers dressed in black stood Max’s neighbor, Charlie. He was a giant, probably six foot four, and had on jeans and a Chicago Cubs T-shirt. Charlie taking the boys was not part of the plan.

“I thought Lucy and I were going to take them back to Kendall’s?”

“Charlie offered to watch them at my place,” Max said as if it was no big deal.

Charlie and his extra-wide smile came over to congratulate the happy couple. He was Max’s only friend in the city besides Kendall. Emma knew him from the hospital. He was the paramedic all the triage nurses flirted with when he brought someone into the ER. Emma could admit there was something attractive about his dark brown hair and green eyes that were always smiling.

“But that wasn’t the plan,” she said, unable to let it go.

“The plans changed, Nightingale. Is that okay?” Charlie asked. The way he looked at her made her stomach feel weird.

“Someone could have texted,” she said to Max, who was oblivious to her frustration.

“Let’s not make a big deal about this,” Lucy said, bumping Emma with her hip and glaring.

This was Kendall’s night. Emma needed to pull it together. Plans changed. Not
her
plans, but other people changed their plans all the time.
Roll with it
, she told herself.

“You can come over and help me get them to bed if you want. Floor Three has the good cable. All the movies we want at the touch of a button.” Floor Three was Charlie’s nickname for Max because he lived on the third floor of their three-flat. Charlie had a thing for nicknaming everyone he met. It was weird but oddly cute at the same time.

His invitation threw her off for a second. His eyes were locked on hers, still smiling but so intense. He had this way of making her feel as if there was no one else in this world he wanted to be looking at other than her.

Her face warmed. “I have to work tomorrow. Maybe it’s best you’ve got them.”

“Another time, maybe.”

“Maybe.”
Maybe not.
There was only one thing Emma knew for sure—Charlie Fletcher was not part of any of her plans. No matter how those eyes made her feel.

CHAPTER TWO

“I
F
YOU
HAD
to choose between the Bulls of the nineties and the Blackhawks of today, who has the most raw talent across the board?” Charlie asked as he sat on Max’s couch, watching hockey.

“That’s tough,” Max replied. “The Bulls had Jordan, the greatest player of our lifetime. There were other guys on that team with talent, but they couldn’t have won championship after championship without Jordan.”

“Exactly. You have to pick the Hawks. There isn’t one guy we can’t live without. There are threats everywhere.”

Max’s phone beeped. He checked the message and typed a quick reply. This had been going on since Charlie had gotten there.

“Everything okay?”

Max scratched the back of his head after tossing his phone on the coffee table. “I’m all for people being helpful. But sometimes people think they’re being helpful, when, in fact, they’re being a pain in the butt.”

“Someone at work?” Charlie asked just as the Blackhawks started a power play. The game was tied and would determine which team would have home-ice advantage in the playoffs.

“I wish,” Max said, his own eyes glued to the television. “I’ve been engaged for less than a week and this wedding is already making me cranky.”

The hockey puck refused to go in the goal no matter what the Hawks tried. Another shot went wide.

“Come on! We only need one goal, guys!” Charlie shouted at the screen as if the team could hear him.

“We’re going to lose this game if we don’t convert on this power play.”

“The Hawks will pull this out. We just need one. We can get one.” Charlie had faith. He believed things would work out in the end—they always did. “Don’t tell me your fiancée is driving you nuts.”

“No, not Kendall. We agreed that we wanted our wedding to be low-key. We talked about just going to the courthouse and making it official. Her sister, on the other hand, has other ideas. Emma thinks we need to have a ‘real’ wedding, and if we can’t put it together, she will.”

“Emma, huh?” The game no longer held Charlie’s interest. Emma was the complete package. She was the perfect combination of sweet, sexy, smart and interesting. Every time they bumped into one another, he became more enamored. She was cool and exuded an easy confidence, as though she always knew exactly what she was doing and why she was doing it.

“Yeah. Kendall swears there’s no one better at organizing things, but I think we should keep it simple. Just family and a justice of the peace.”

“I’m with the Nightingale on this one. You’re marrying Special K! You can’t marry a woman like that at city hall. Plus, if you have a real wedding, you’ll get gifts and I’ll get to drink out of a real glass when I come over to watch the game.” Charlie held up his plastic kiddie cup filled with Coke.

Max snorted when he laughed. “That’s one way to look at it, I suppose.”

Finding the bright side was Charlie’s gift. He was a silver-lining kind of guy. His optimism was a trait passed down through the generations; his father and grandfather had similar personalities.

Charlie’s grandfather swore it was the power of positive thinking that had won the two elder Fletcher men the women of their dreams. Unfortunately, Charlie hadn’t experienced the same kind of luck in the romance department. Women found him funny and charming when they met him, but eventually they all broke his heart, perpetuating the nice-guys-finish-last theory.

Emma had dream-woman potential. Charlie hadn’t pursued her yet out of fear. One more failed relationship and his optimism might be lost for good. Then he’d be lonely
and
depressed. He couldn’t let his thoughts drift in that direction.

“What if I helped her? I could make sure she doesn’t get too carried away. Make sure it’s how you want it.”

Max lifted one eyebrow. “You want to help plan my wedding?”

“Honestly? No. But I would like to spend some time with Kendall’s sister.” Charlie grinned. “Is that wrong?”

This garnered all of Max’s attention. He sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “You want to spend time with Emma? When did this happen?”

Charlie scrubbed his face with his hands. There would be no going back once the cat was out of the bag. “Pretty much since the first time I saw her.”

“What? How did I not know this?” He reached for his phone, but Charlie smacked it out of his hand.

“You can’t tell Kendall.”

“I
have
to tell Kendall.”

“You can
not
tell Kendall.”

“I don’t think you understand,” Max said seriously. “Kendall will be told. If not now, then later.”

“Later. Please.”

“Fine.” A smile spread slowly across Max’s face. “Charlie Fletcher, I thought we were friends, but you’ve been holding out on me.”

Charlie hadn’t been intentionally keeping secrets. There wasn’t much to tell other than he had a crush. “There was nothing to say. I like her. I’ve been holding back a little because the women who somehow resist my good looks completely fall at my feet when I turn on the charm. It’s embarrassing, really.”

Max laughed into his fist. “Okay, but seriously. Emma’s cool. Now, if you were head over heels for Lucy, I’d tell you to run for your life. Emma’s usually easy to get along with, but I think she’s dating some doctor. If you let me call Kendall—” he reached for his phone “—I could find out.”

“No way.” Charlie smacked his hand again. “I have sisters. Sisters tell sisters everything. If you tell Kendall, she’ll tell Emma and things will be weird.”

“Okay, then just ask her out on a date,” Max suggested.

“But you think she’s already dating someone?” He’d worried this was the case. A beautiful woman like Emma probably had a boyfriend.

“Kendall and Lucy always say things about Emma marrying a doctor, but I feel like I’m missing something. I’ve never met any doctor boyfriend, so I’m not sure.”

Before he made a fool of himself, Charlie needed to find out if Dr. Boyfriend was real or not. If he wasn’t, he’d ask her on a date. If she was already taken, Charlie would have to reassess the situation.

“Well, you wanna be my best man?” Max asked.

“Yeah?” Charlie grinned. He hadn’t expected to get a title. “You want me to be your best man?”

“If you’re going to help my future sister-in-law plan my wedding, you should probably be my best man.”

“You’re a good man, Floor Three. I’m in.” Charlie had never planned a wedding, but he’d been to a few. Something told him he’d have to look at flower arrangements and discuss things like color palettes—things he had no interest in whatsoever. Spending some time with Emma could definitely be worth it, though.

Max and Charlie shook hands just as the Blackhawks’ forward scored a goal with only seconds left in the third period. Both men jumped up, cheering loudly. They high-fived and clapped for their team as if they were fans in the stands. A win for the Hawks had to be a sign that good things were going to come Charlie’s way.

* * *

“P
EOPLE
NEED
TO
turn down their music and look in their rearview mirrors every once in a while,” Charlie’s partner complained as she honked the air horn and drove the ambulance around some guy who simply refused to pull over.

Charlie stared him down as they passed. “He’s on his phone. I knew it!” There was nothing more frustrating to a paramedic than not being able to get to a call because of negligent drivers.

Serena made a wide right turn onto a one-way street. She double-parked in front of the brownstone where the 911 call had been made. Charlie grabbed his jump bag and headed for the building. A new life was about to begin today. The caller, Mr. Garrison, said his wife was in labor and was too far along to leave the house.

He wasn’t kidding.

The young woman lay on the bed clutching her swollen belly and shrieking as another contraction brought her one step closer to motherhood. Her husband ran back to her side and held her hand until it was over.

“I told her we should go to the hospital when they were coming every ten minutes, but she thought she had enough time to shower.”

Charlie noticed Mrs. Garrison had done more than shower. Her hair was styled and she had a face full of makeup. Something told him she’d been more worried about how she would look than about getting to the hospital on time. This had to be her first child, because most women didn’t wait when they’d been through the “joys” of natural childbirth before.

Serena instructed Mrs. Garrison not to bear down and asked the husband to get them some clean towels or blankets. Charlie pulled out the necessary equipment from his bag and put on a pair of gloves. Speaking as calmly as he could manage, he let the very-soon-to-be mother know everything that was happening as it happened. He got her positioned correctly and found the baby’s head was already crowning.

“You need to take me to the hospital! I can’t have my baby delivered by an ambulance driver!”

Sometimes Charlie’s profession got no respect. People didn’t realize how much training was necessary to be a paramedic. No, they weren’t doctors, but they were medical professionals capable of providing treatment until the patient could get to a hospital.

“Can you give me some drugs? I need some drugs,” Mrs. Garrison grunted. First timer for sure.

“I need you to breathe like this.” Charlie showed her how to puff air out so she didn’t push before they were ready. “There’s no time to get you to the hospital, or for drugs, I’m afraid. This baby is going to be out before anything could start working.”

Mr. Garrison returned with towels, and Serena got busy turning the bedroom into what would now be the delivery room. Mrs. Garrison grimaced and then screamed out again.

“I need to push!”

Charlie told her to go ahead as he helped ease the head out. He checked to make sure there was nothing wrapped around the baby’s neck and let her push again. In a matter of seconds, Charlie held a tiny baby boy in his hands. He suctioned the mouth and nose, and the baby let out the kind of cry that every parent loves to hear. Charlie cleaned him off and wrapped him up in a clean towel. Serena handed him the oxygen to administer to the little guy until he pinked up nicely.

“You’ve got a good-lookin’ son here. Now we can take you guys to the hospital to make sure.”

These were the kinds of calls that made Charlie’s day. Not only had he helped bring a life into the world, but he also had to transport this new family to Saint Joe’s, where Emma worked. He felt as if it was a good omen that something as joyous as a newborn was bringing him to her hospital today.

As soon as Mrs. Garrison was no longer in agonizing pain, she realized her husband did not have his camera at the ready. The hair and makeup made perfect sense after she got him to take a few dozen pictures of her and their son. Mr. Garrison gave his wife her phone so she could post some selfies and make the announcement that she’d delivered a healthy boy on every social media site out there.

Serena’s face gave away her annoyance. Charlie could only smile. “Come on, Serena Hayes. I bet you looked like a million bucks in all the pictures when your babies were born.”

Serena had heard about Charlie’s proclivity for giving nicknames when she came to work at Station 22. She was an African-American woman in her thirties. No one was going to call her anything childish or foolish. She’d introduced herself and let him know he had a couple options. He could call her by her first name or last name. She would respond to either, but nothing else. That led to him calling her by both her first and last name. Sometimes he slipped in a Serqueena when he was feeling rebellious, but that didn’t happen too often.

“I look good all the time. I don’t need to post it all over the web to prove it,” she said under her breath. She gave Mrs. Garrison one more minute to finish her announcements before they loaded her and the baby into the ambulance and headed to Saint Joseph’s Hospital.

* * *

T
HE
TRIAGE
NURSE
on duty loved Charlie. She congratulated him on his successful delivery and offered him a chocolate kiss from the little jar that sat on her desk.

“I think you missed your calling. You should have gone to medical school,” she said.

“I’m not doctor material. Too many years in the classroom and then the rest of your life spent in the hospital. Not to mention, I look terrible in white. But blue, I’m to die for in blue,” he said with a wink. Charlie unwrapped the chocolate and popped it in his mouth. He attempted to nonchalantly scan the ER for any sign of Emma, but she was nowhere to be seen. He worried she wasn’t on duty today. “Any chance Emma Everhart is around?”

“Emma?” The woman’s forehead creased. “What do you need Emma for?”

“I’m the best man in her sister’s wedding. I just wanted to touch base with her.” His eyes continued to search for her.

“Her sister is getting married? You know her sister?”

“Her sister is marrying my neighbor. Small world, right?” Just then, Emma stepped out from behind one of the curtained-off care rooms. She changed the colored marker outside the room from orange to green. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun and her blue scrubs were nothing fancy, but she wore blue better than Charlie did. His throat tightened at the thought of talking to her.

“Emma!” the triage nurse screeched. Emma turned at the sound of her name and Charlie’s heart began to pound. Her eyes fell squarely on him, as if he was the owner of the painfully shrill voice. The triage nurse waved her over. “Come here.”

The closer she got, the warmer he felt. He practiced greeting her in his head, trying to sound cool. Then she smiled and he lost the ability to speak.

“Hey, Charlie. What’s up, Diane?”

The sound of his name coming from her lips was magic. He wanted to sweep her up in his arms and hear her say it again, breathlessly this time.

“Why didn’t you tell me your sister is getting married?”

Emma glanced at Charlie, who could only grin like an idiot. She spoke to Diane. “I don’t think I’ve had a minute to talk about it with you. But I see it’s already ER gossip.”

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