lights. He ran a hand through short, sandy-blond hair, his handsome face showing a weariness and exhaustion it 6
A Kiss for Luck
hadn’t earlier this morning. “Besides, I had an eight-year-old victim. Not that he was critical. Just scraped up, thank God.”
“Oh,” Clara said in understanding. Her hospital had one of the top pediatric units in the state and every once in a while she and Jackson crossed paths at work when he was handling a pediatric call. “Sounds like you’re having a bad day.”
He raised his eyebrows. “New Year’s always sucks for us.”
“Mmm,” she agreed, grabbing the newest chart on the counter to see the seriousness of the patient’s situation. Some of the other hospitals may have been inundated with cases, but her workload was relatively light. “Do you want to grab a bite?”
“I can’t,” he said with a wince, sounding disappointed. “Owe you?”
“Sure,” she said, smiling at him and knowing he had to leave. They’d been best friends long enough for her to read the hassle of a stressful day on his face. “Be safe.
Don’t talk to strangers.”
He laughed then gave Clara an apologetic look as his gaze ran over her for one long moment, apprehension written all over his face. “I’m working a double. I picked up Terry’s shift so he could enjoy New Year’s with Marianne. You know they just got married and—”
“I’m a big girl,” Clara said, trying to hide her disappointment over celebrating New Year’s alone. She requested the night off just to be with him, not that she would admit to it. “You have to do what you have to do.”
“I didn’t want you to be alone,” he said, his voice deepening with concern. “Are you gonna be okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, not knowing if she truly meant it. “I enjoy my own company.”
7
Kele Moon
He opened his mouth as if to argue, but the walkie-talkie on his belt interrupted him. A crackling voice asked in annoyance where he was and he pulled a face at Clara in response. “I gotta take off.”
“Later,” she said and looked back to her chart.
She would have left it at that, but Jackson leaned forward, kissing her cheek softly and whispering in her ear, “Happy New Year, Clara Bow.”
She smiled, feeling her steely demeanor melting for a moment as she looked up at Jackson, admiring the dashing grin he gave her. “Same to you. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She turned around when he left, picking up another chart and only looked up when the huff of not one, but two very annoyed young nurses disrupted her train of thought.
“What?” she asked in annoyance, the good mood brought on by the unexpected appearance of Jackson dissipating.
“I thought you were married?”
“I’m getting a divorce. Thanks for the reminder,” Clara snapped at them. “Besides, he’s only a friend. I’m staying with him while I look for a new place—that’s it.”
“You’re staying with him?”
“No way!”
“Can you get me his number?”
“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Clara said, walking away from the nurses’
station, determined to do her job rather than answer questions that were none of their business.
* * * * *
Clara groaned as she put the key into the lock of Jackson’s apartment. She was tired, her feet hurt and she couldn’t be more relieved to be home. No matter that she had to come home to an apartment that wasn’t her own. At the moment anywhere with a hot bath and a comfortable bed was home to her.
8
A Kiss for Luck
She blindly ran her hand over the switches in the entryway and light flooded the very masculine living space. Everything from the leather sofa to the dark wood was obviously decor chosen by a man.
She dropped her bag on the bed in the guest bedroom and began pulling off her clothes, desperate for a hot bath. Evidence of Jackson lingered in every corner. Older, unused clothes hung in the closet, an award of merit for his service as a firefighter
A Kiss for Luck
hadn’t earlier this morning. “Besides, I had an eight-year-old victim. Not that he was critical. Just scraped up, thank God.”
“Oh,” Clara said in understanding. Her hospital had one of the top pediatric units in the state and every once in a while she and Jackson crossed paths at work when he was handling a pediatric call. “Sounds like you’re having a bad day.”
He raised his eyebrows. “New Year’s always sucks for us.”
“Mmm,” she agreed, grabbing the newest chart on the counter to see the seriousness of the patient’s situation. Some of the other hospitals may have been inundated with cases, but her workload was relatively light. “Do you want to grab a bite?”
“I can’t,” he said with a wince, sounding disappointed. “Owe you?”
“Sure,” she said, smiling at him and knowing he had to leave. They’d been best friends long enough for her to read the hassle of a stressful day on his face. “Be safe.
Don’t talk to strangers.”
He laughed then gave Clara an apologetic look as his gaze ran over her for one long moment, apprehension written all over his face. “I’m working a double. I picked up Terry’s shift so he could enjoy New Year’s with Marianne. You know they just got married and—”
“I’m a big girl,” Clara said, trying to hide her disappointment over celebrating New Year’s alone. She requested the night off just to be with him, not that she would admit to it. “You have to do what you have to do.”
“I didn’t want you to be alone,” he said, his voice deepening with concern. “Are you gonna be okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, not knowing if she truly meant it. “I enjoy my own company.”
7
Kele Moon
He opened his mouth as if to argue, but the walkie-talkie on his belt interrupted him. A crackling voice asked in annoyance where he was and he pulled a face at Clara in response. “I gotta take off.”
“Later,” she said and looked back to her chart.
She would have left it at that, but Jackson leaned forward, kissing her cheek softly and whispering in her ear, “Happy New Year, Clara Bow.”
She smiled, feeling her steely demeanor melting for a moment as she looked up at Jackson, admiring the dashing grin he gave her. “Same to you. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She turned around when he left, picking up another chart and only looked up when the huff of not one, but two very annoyed young nurses disrupted her train of thought.
“What?” she asked in annoyance, the good mood brought on by the unexpected appearance of Jackson dissipating.
“I thought you were married?”
“I’m getting a divorce. Thanks for the reminder,” Clara snapped at them. “Besides, he’s only a friend. I’m staying with him while I look for a new place—that’s it.”
“You’re staying with him?”
“No way!”
“Can you get me his number?”
“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Clara said, walking away from the nurses’
station, determined to do her job rather than answer questions that were none of their business.
* * * * *
Clara groaned as she put the key into the lock of Jackson’s apartment. She was tired, her feet hurt and she couldn’t be more relieved to be home. No matter that she had to come home to an apartment that wasn’t her own. At the moment anywhere with a hot bath and a comfortable bed was home to her.
8
A Kiss for Luck
She blindly ran her hand over the switches in the entryway and light flooded the very masculine living space. Everything from the leather sofa to the dark wood was obviously decor chosen by a man.
She dropped her bag on the bed in the guest bedroom and began pulling off her clothes, desperate for a hot bath. Evidence of Jackson lingered in every corner. Older, unused clothes hung in the closet, an award of merit for his service as a firefighter
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