Stubborn Heart (3 page)

Mark picked a small booth in the corner of the cafeteria. It was situated so that he was able to look out a window while he ate. It was the next best thing to being able to go outside. He sat down and leaned back against the padded bench, then unwrapped his sandwich and squeezed a couple packets of ketchup and mustard onto the burger. He took a bite and closed his eyes for a moment, content to just relax and sit while he chewed.

“Mind if I join you?” Trevor asked as he slid across the seat opposite Mark, bumping both Mark’s knees as he did.

“Um, sure.” Mark winced, sitting up and reaching down to rub one knee. “I think you injured me,” he added with a grin.

“Sorry about that,” Trevor apologized and smiled. “I didn’t see your legs.” He took a bite of his apple and sat back against the bench, watching Mark as he ate.
Mark is even cuter than I remembered.

Feeling himself start to blush under Trevor’s gaze, Mark looked down and began picking at his burger.

Trevor silently watched Mark for a moment, taking in the details of the incredibly hot man sitting across from him. Mark’s tanned skin was almost the color of honey. He obviously spent a great deal of time in the sun. His blond hair threatened to curl even though it was short and waxed to stand up straight. Trevor shifted in his seat, brushing his knee against Mark’s as he moved.

Mark looked up again, his cobalt-blue eyes meeting Trevor’s gaze. There was no mistaking it—Trevor was easy on the eyes. His gold-flecked eyes sparkled with warmth and a hint of amusement. The way he smiled as he chewed made Mark feel as though he was lunch instead of the apple.

“So are you getting settled in?” Mark asked politely to break the silence as he attempted to maintain eye contact. He felt more than a little discomfort at being under such close scrutiny.

Trevor seemed to contemplate the question briefly, and then he swallowed the bite of apple he had been chewing. “I guess so. I have patient rounds with my team at four o’clock, but I don’t have much to do until then.”

“Well, I’m sure I can find things for you to do,” Mark said jokingly. “There’s always plenty of work to be done in the unit. This is the first time things have slowed down since I walked through the door this morning. Trust me, once you get into the routine, you’ll be wishing for a moment when you don’t have fifty things going on at once.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Trevor replied and took another bite from his apple. “I think I’ll just enjoy the fun while it lasts. But if you need me to help you with something, just ask. I don’t mind at all.”

“Thanks for the offer. I’ll keep that in mind.” Mark smiled as he sat up and began collecting his trash. “I hate to rush off, but my break is over. I need to get back upstairs.”

Trevor’s gaze followed Mark’s movement, and he frowned slightly as Mark moved away from the table.

“I’m sure I’ll see you during your rounds,” Mark added as he turned and left Trevor behind, still eating his apple.

Trevor nodded and then watched Mark walked away.
Not a bad view
, he thought, smiling. The blue uniform pants did little to hide the firm, round globes of Mark’s ass.
Not bad at all.

Chapter 2

“D
ID
you see the new fellow that started the other day?” Carla asked as she filled in names on the assignment board. It was the first time she and Mark had worked the same shift in almost a week.

“Of course I did, Carla.” Mark sighed. “If memory serves, I’m the one who had to conduct the orientation.”

“Oh. Are you still carrying on about that?”

“Nope!” Mark replied with a smug grin. “I’m saving that up in my ‘you owe me’ basket.”

“Uh-huh.” Carla glanced at Mark from the corner of her eyes. “You let me know in advance when you plan to open that tragic little basket. I want to make sure I’m on vacation.”

“Not a chance!” Mark laughed. “I’m just biding my time. One day, my friend, when the time is just right….”

“Whatever!” Carla shook her head dismissively. “Anyway. So, about this new doctor. Is he fine or what?”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Mark shrugged. “Obviously you spend more time checking out the doctors than I do.”

“So, when did you die? Because there’s no way you can be still breathing and not see that he is one hot-assed man.”

“Whatever. They don’t pay me to look at the doctors’ butts.”

“That’s it!” Carla exclaimed, and her face lit up. “I’m naming him Dr. Hot Pants.”

“Dr. Hot Pants?” Mark laughed and snorted. “Where the hell did you come up with that?”

“If you looked at him, you would know. That’s what I’ve been saying. When that man walks through the unit, you can’t help but look at his butt.”

“Seriously?”

“Mark, the man is fine!” Carla turned and looked at Mark as though he had just awakened from a coma. “So, what do you think about him?”

“I don’t think anything about him,” Mark protested. “I only met him during orientation, and I haven’t worked with him at all since then.”

“But you have
seen
him, right?” Carla continued as if she were speaking to a child.

“Yes, I’ve
seen
him,” Mark mocked Carla’s tone and grinned. “And yes, he is attractive.”

“Well, thank goodness you’re still alive!” Carla exclaimed, shaking both hands above her head for theatrical effect. “I was about to check your pulse. Was it really that difficult for you to admit that Dr. Hot Pants is good-looking?”

“Stop calling him that!” Mark fussed. “You know that stupid name thing you do messes with my head.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Carla shrugged and turned back to the board. She picked up a marker as if to start writing again.

“Yes, you do.” Mark grinned and tugged at Carla’s arm so that she had to turn back to face him. “Remember that agency nurse we had in here a few weeks ago?” he whispered conspiratorially.

Carla clucked. “You mean Potato Teeth?”

“Exactly!” Mark lightly pushed at Carla. “From the moment you started calling her that, anytime I saw her, all I could do was look at her mouth. And I almost called her that to her face one day.”

“Whatever. Sounds like you have a problem.” Carla shrugged again and resumed writing on the board.

“Just, please. Stop with the names,” Mark pleaded. He turned and walked away.

“Whatever,” she repeated, then smiled as she watched Mark walk toward his patients’ rooms.

“I
S
IT
okay if I come in here for a few minutes?”

Mark had just finished up his morning work and had gone into the lounge for his break. Looking up, he saw Trevor standing in the doorway.

“Sure,” Mark replied. “Come in and sit anywhere you like.” The staff lounge was a small room, about ten by ten feet, located in the middle of the unit. It was an easy place for staff to get away for a few minutes of rest, yet they were still close by if needed. Usually only nurses used the lounge, and some of the staff were a bit territorial, but Mark didn’t think anyone would have a problem with Trevor sitting in the lounge for a few minutes. “So how did you get moved into the fellowship in Atlanta so late in the year?”

“Luck of the draw,” Trevor replied. He pulled out a chair and sat at the table across from Mark. “I heard that the guy I’m replacing was offered a teaching position somewhere out west. They needed a new fellow here, and I was recruited.”

“I guess I never thought about that,” Mark admitted. “I assumed you guys just applied to the school you wanted, and then you get accepted or not. End of story.”

“That’s basically the way it works for premed and medical school,” Trevor explained. “But the more specialized your training becomes, the less opportunities there are to choose your location. For example, this is the only university in Georgia with an open-heart program that matches my interest.”

“Where were you before you came here?” Mark asked, leaning forward slightly to convey his interest.

“Boston.”

“Boston?” Mark echoed in his best fake New Englander accent. “You don’t sound like a Yankee.”

Trevor laughed. “I was only there six months. I’m originally from Idaho. I guess the accent didn’t have time to take.”

“Well”—Mark shrugged and then smiled—“maybe you’ll be here long enough we can have you talking southern.”

Trevor grinned and leaned back in his chair. “How long have you lived in Georgia?”

“All my life,” Mark answered. “I was born right downstairs in this very hospital. I grew up in Atlanta; went to school here as a child; went to nursing school here; now I work here. I very seldom go OTP.”

“OTP?” Trevor raised one eyebrow in confusion.

“Outside the Perimeter. It means I don’t go outside of Interstate 285.”

“OTP,” Trevor mused as he mulled it over for a moment. “Does that mean you’re a Georgia Peach?” he asked with a grin.

Mark chuckled and appeared to consider the question. He leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “Well, no one has ever called me a Georgia Peach before.” Then he smiled mischievously. “What if I called you Potato Boy? Hmmm, Mr. Idaho?”

Trevor’s expression became serious, and then he grinned again. “You can call me just about anything you want to, Mark. The only thing that matters to me is that you keep talking to me.”

Mark felt the color rise in his cheeks as he looked into Trevor’s eyes.
Now where the hell did that come from?

“I
SAW
you in the conference room, getting all chummy with Dr. Hot Pants,” Carla teased. It was almost time for shift change, and she was in the process of getting updates on all the patients. She pulled up a stool to sit by the station where Mark was working.

“Gurrrl!” Mark said, dragging out the word and rolling his eyes. “I have told you before that you cannot start drinking until after we clock out.” He closed the chart he had been working on and prepared to give her updates on the patients’ conditions. “It’s right there in the rule book: no drinking on the job.”

“Don’t talk to me about what’s appropriate!” Carla said, looking Mark up and down. “I’m not the one who was sitting in there chatting up a man like I was at the club.”

Mark flushed slightly and looked away. “I just happened to be sitting in the conference room and he came in. We talked for a few minutes and that’s all there was to it, Miss Gutter-Mind. And stop calling him Dr. Hot Pants. One day I’m going to fuck up and call him that by accident.”

“And I will be rolling on the floor laughing. Besides, if that is all there was to it”—Carla turned, looking straight at Mark—“then why are you blushing right down to your lily-white ass?”

“You know I hate you, right?”

Carla laughed so loudly several other nurses looked up to see what was going on.

Chapter 3

“C
AN
you set up and assist with a central line insertion for Mr. Roberts?” Alice asked. “I have to take Mrs. Gonzales down for a CT scan.”

Mark was in the middle of making his morning rounds to check on staff and get updates on the patients’ conditions. It was Saturday, and once again, he was the charge nurse. It seemed lately that more often than not, he was assigned to be the charge nurse. “Sure, I can take care of that.” Mark nodded. “But I need to finish rounds first. What time?”

“The resident said he would be back at ten thirty,” Alice replied without looking up at him. She was busy setting up the portable heart monitor and other equipment necessary to monitor and care for Mrs. Gonzales while she was out of the unit for her procedure.

“Okay, well, that gives me an hour,” Mark said, looking at his watch. “Is there anything else I need to know about Mr. Roberts?”

“No, thanks. I can do everything else when I get back.”

Mark finished his rounds and began gathering supplies for the TLC insertion. The triple lumen catheter, or TLC for short, was a long tube that was inserted into one of the large veins in the neck or chest. It was the preferred means for administering intravenous medications in the critical care setting, both because it had three separate ports allowing for multiple medications to be delivered through a single device, and because there was virtually no chance for medications to seep into surrounding tissue and cause damage. Mark removed the TLC insertion tray, sterile gowns, gloves, masks, and caps from the supply closet and carried everything into Mr. Roberts’s room to get ready for the procedure. He moved several items off the bedside table and began to wipe it down with a disinfectant solution. Mark explained to Mr. Roberts what they were planning to do. Though the patient was heavily sedated and probably couldn’t hear or understand, Mark believed it was important to talk to his patients as if they were aware of what was happening to them.