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His smile dropped a little. “Yeah?”

Did he really think I’d refuse?

“Yes.”

That smile came back in full force. “I’ll pick you up next Saturday at five.”

Whoa, he wasn’t giving me much time to realize what I’d just done. “Where are you taking me?”

Everyone who was standing around us scattered. Apparently they felt the need to give us privacy now. His face changed from happy to devious and troublesome.

“Don’t worry about it. But you’ll want to wear jeans and a tank top or something with short sleeves.”

Crap. “Okay, I can do that.”

He tapped his hand on the bar, and took a drink that had been sitting beside me. It looked like a whiskey and coke. “Thanks, buddy,” he said to the bartender over my shoulder. “See you next week.” He winked and walked away like he just won the lottery.

I looked around me wondering if anybody saw the exchange that just took place. Scrubbing a hand down my face, I sighed. Why did I have a feeling I just agreed to something that would make me question my sanity? Something in my peripheral caught eye. Turning towards the pool house, Macie came walking out, adjusting her dress and smoothing her hair back. She looked like she was thoroughly satisfied. What that must feel like . . . It’d been a long time since I’d had that. But I’ll say this right now, Turner Brooks isn’t getting that from me. No flipping way. I don’t care how attractive he was, or how much he could smooth talk. If he thought this date was going to end in me moaning his name, he was going to be going home very disappointed.

“A PATIENT WAS JUST BROUGHT into room 213. She’s eight centimeters, and seems to be moving along quickly.” One of the nurses was informing me of the patients on the floor. She was getting off shift as I was coming on.

“Okay. She the only one we got right now?”

“We just had a delivery in 215 but, I’ll to wheel her into recovery before I leave. And about the momma in 213, she’s an addict. We tried to stop the labor because she’s only thirty-three weeks along, but it didn’t work. We’re still waiting on toxicology to come back with everything she’s taken, but she’s not in good shape. Angry and belligerent. So be careful when you go in there. We’ve considered restraining her.”

Great. I’ve only dealt with one other drug addict before when I’ve been working. She had drank through her whole pregnancy and had started using meth in her last month. Fortunately, the baby had no ill effects.

“Okay, thanks.” I picked up her chart and read through everything they knew about her. Looked like they believed she was a meth user, and maybe some sort of depressant. Wonderful. I could only imagine what I was about to walk in on. The neonatal floor was going to need to be called. Lord knew what kind of shape the baby was going to be in. “Oh,” I said before she walked away. “Have they done an ultrasound to see if baby has anything we need to be worried about besides the obvious?”

“Yeah, he’s just a little smaller than we’d hoped. I gave her a steroid injection to help with his lungs about three hours ago, but who knows if it will help.”

“Alright.” I studied the chart, received the tox report, and walked down the hall.

She was screaming before I even opened the door. Her blood work came back positive to methamphetamines and alcohol. This poor baby was going to be a mess.

“Ms. March? Hi, I’m Annabelle, your nurse.” I went to her IV to check her fluids.

“Where the hell is the bitch that said she’d give me something for this pain?”

I looked up at her. “She just got off her shift. If you need something to take the edge off, I’ll get that for you.”

She snapped. “The fucking edge? I don’t want to feel any of this. Now give me the fucking drugs.”

I didn’t do well with people screaming at me. “I can’t have an epidural administered, Ms. March. You have too many drugs in your system that it could hurt the baby. I’m only able to give you something mild to help with the pain.”

She swung her arms around almost ripping the IV out. A contraction wracked her frail, weak body, and she cried with the pain. “Give me something. I can’t do this.”

I left the room briefly to get her something to help control her pain, but I knew she was too far along for it to really do anything. Pushing it through her IV, another contraction hit causing her to curl in on herself.

“Get this fucking thing out of me!” she shrieked.

“Do you mind if I call you Adalyn?”

She didn’t respond.

“Okay, Adalyn, I need you to listen to me. I’m going to lay you back so I can check to see if you’re ready to push. If you give me everything you’ve got and it’s time to push, all this pain you’re feeling will go away.”

“Then fucking do it,” she growled at me.

I wished I could throw the bed back faster than it would electronically move. She was ticking me off with her attitude. I’d been yelled at by other patients, but never out of rudeness. This was just insane.

I got her flat, and checked her cervix for dilation. Sure enough, she was ready. I called another nurse to come in and assist me, and then the doctor when the baby was far enough down the birth canal. We paged the NICU to bring a team down. I wasn’t trained to the capacity that I’d need for a special needs baby. When the full team was ready and set up, Adalyn pushed a couple more times and out came a tiny baby boy. Physically he appeared fine, other than he was definitely smaller than his thirty-three week gestation. But how he really was, I didn’t know. The NICU got him stable in the room, and put him in an incubator and wheeled him out of the room. Chances were, Adalyn wouldn’t be seeing her baby for a day or two. Not even sure she would care. She pushed him out thirty minutes ago and still hadn’t bothered to ask about him.

“Adalyn, do you have a name for your son, so I may put it in his records?”

She gave me a glassy eyed stare. “I don’t fuckin’ care what you call him. Just give me somethin’ for this damn pain I’m still in.”

There wasn’t much that shocked me these days, but that made my mouth drop open. “Did you know you were having a boy? We can leave it all blank for now until you figure out what you’d like to call him.”

She waved her hand at me, dismissing me. “Mistake. How about that? Name him Mistake. If I hadn’t gotten knocked up with the little shit, I wouldn’t be here bleeding, and sore.”

I gritted my teeth. Looking at the doctor whom was currently stitching her up from the small tear from pushing, he shook his head telling me to let it go. I needed a breather.

I asked the other nurse who was remaining quiet, as she cleaned up. “You mind if I step out?”

The look on my face must’ve said it all. “Go ahead, I’ve got this.”

I dropped the basin I’d been holding in my hand on the bedtable and shoved out the door. Making my way to the stairs, I sat down and put my head in my hands. What in the hell was wrong with some people? I know drugs mess you up really bad, but this was beyond anything I could even comprehend. That was an innocent baby. One that wasn’t asked to be conceived and brought into this world in pain. The kid was going to have a long road ahead of him. He was nameless and had a mother that was more interested in her next high than asking if he had all ten fingers and all ten toes. Sometimes I really hated people.

I was nervous. Why in the hell was I nervous. I’d been out on hundreds of dates, and never once would you catch me with sweaty palms. Wiping them on my pants for the millionth time, I pulled up to Annabelle’s house and got out of the car. This girl, made me curious. I knew nothing about her except the little bit she’d let slip here and there. Women were normally very forthcoming and wanted to talk about themselves, but Annabelle didn’t. Her life remained private, and it was like a scavenger hunt getting the information out of her. Knocking, she answered right away, the gust of wind from the door blowing her perfume scent across my face. Cotton candy. She smelled like delicious cotton candy, and all I wanted to do was taste her to see if she was just as sweet.