LITMIR.BIZ

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was the hardest thing Elana had had to do since moving into her first foster home at the tender age of fifteen.

      He’d wanted to talk things through.

      Yeah. Right. To make himself feel better, no doubt.

      Elana swallowed hard, trying without success to keep from ruminating over Brock Madison. Even when he wasn’t in the immediate area, she’d found herself searching for him. If only so she could find a way to stay as far away from him as possible.

      Raine was right: Brock was devastatingly attractive. Too much so. In those brief moments when he’d pinned her with his sizzling blue gaze, she’d nearly forgotten how much she hated him.

      Brock had matured over the years. She shouldn’t have been surprised; it wasn’t as if she was the same angry and confused fifteen-year-old, either. But for some reason, her brain had always pictured him as the young, reckless college student who’d been speeding down the highway when Felicity pulled out in front of him.

      For years she’d railed against the unfairness of it all. Brock had essentially walked away from the crash with only a couple of minor injuries—a broken collarbone and a few cracked ribs—while Felicity had died at the scene.

      Enough. She needed to stop wallowing in the past. She threw herself into her work with a vengeance. Elana thought she’d successfully hidden her feelings towards Brock, but at the end of their shift, Raine cornered her in the staff lounge.

      “All right, give. What is up with you and Dr Madison?”

      Elana raised a brow, trying to keep her expression impassive. “Nothing.”

      Raine rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure, and I’m Princess Stephanie. Come on, Elana. It’s obvious you two know each other. For one thing, he called you by name before anyone had introduced you. And then he followed you to the staff lounge to talk to you in private. Did the two of you have a relationship in the past or what?”

      Relationship? Good Lord, nothing could be further from the truth. “No. I barely know the guy.”

      “I don’t believe you.” Raine swiped her badge through the time clock, and Elana followed suit. “I’m not blind. There’s a definite tension between you.”

      Elana suppressed a sigh, knowing Raine would continue to badger her endlessly unless she explained. “Remember when I told you my sister died in a car crash nine years ago?”

      Raine frowned. “Yes.” Then her eyes rounded. “Was your sister dating Brock at the time?”

      “No. Worse.” Elana walked into the staff locker room to retrieve her purse. She slammed the locker door shut with more force than was necessary. “Brock was the driver of the car that hit her.”

      “No! Really?” Raine’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “You have got to be kidding me.”

      “I wish I was.” Elana’s expression was grim, and she dropped onto the bench, her shoulders slumping with sudden fatigue. Keeping up the pretense that everything was okay when it really wasn’t had been exhausting. “I don’t know if I can do this, Raine,” she whispered. “I don’t think I can work with him.”

      Raine sat down beside her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Don’t make any rash decisions, Elana. I’m sure this has been a shock, but Brock Madison seems to be a really good doctor. Maybe you need to give him a chance.”

      Give him a chance? Why? What about Felicity’s chance? Her sister’s life had ended far too young, and it was all Brock’s fault.

      She didn’t want to give him a chance. Logically, Elana knew Raine might be right, since Chloe would have told her the same thing. But letting go of the past wasn’t easy. Those dark years after her sister’s death had been so awful. She winced and rubbed her pounding temple. “I can’t,” she murmured.

      “Elana, you can. You’re an adult now, and you’re strong. Remember I’m always here for you if you need to talk.” Raine gave her a quick hug. “Call me anytime.”

      Elana flashed a weak smile. “Thanks.”

      They gathered their things and headed outside to the staff parking lot. The night air was chilly for April, and she hunched her shoulders against the breeze, having left her coat in the car in her rush to get to work on time.

      That night Elana couldn’t sleep. Because there was no way she was going to be able to work with Brock. And she mourned the fact that her career as a trauma nurse was likely over.

      

       “Brock? Do you have a minute?”

       Elana’s voice made him stop and turn in amazement. She’d called out to him. Voluntarily. Her dark eyes were warm and welcoming, making her even more beautiful than the first time he’d seen her at work. “Elana. It’s great to see you.”

       Her tremulous smile made his chest tighten with anticipation. “I’ve been looking all over for you, Brock. I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for the way I treated you the other day. I had no right to be angry with you.”

       “I—don’t know what to say. Does this mean you’ve forgiven me?” He could barely allow himself to hope.

       She smiled. “Yes, Brock. I forgive you.”

      The incessant ringing of his phone pulled him from the dream. With a low groan of regret, Brock pried his eyes open, searching for his cell phone. Whoever was calling him this early in the morning had better have a good reason.

      He’d wanted to stay asleep. To spend more time with the Elana in his dreams. The beautiful, smiling Elana who didn’t blame him for her sister’s death.

      “Yeah?” He opened his phone without looking at the screen to see who was calling.

      “Brock? You gotta help me, man.” He could barely hear his younger brother Joel’s voice over the shrill wailing of a baby in the background. “I can’t take it any more. Tucker’s crying non-stop. There has to be something wrong with him. Something bad. He cries all the time!”

      Wincing at the desperation in his brother’s tone, he swung out of bed. Joel had got his girlfriend, Lacey, pregnant, and while Brock admired his brother’s efforts, Joel was obviously struggling in his attempt to do the right thing. “Try to relax. Babies can sense when something is wrong. Tucker is only seven weeks old; maybe he’s a little colicky. Does he seem better riding in the car? Or in the baby swing?”

      “No. Nothing works.” Joel’s tone rose in agitation. “He just cries and cries. I’m telling you, there’s something seriously wrong!”

      Brock scrubbed a hand over his chin. Joel was only twenty-two, but his girlfriend, Lacey, was even younger, just six months past nineteen. They were young and finding it difficult to handle the responsibility of a brand-new family. Hence Brock’s decision to move back to Milwaukee. Especially after hearing their father had refused to offer Joel any financial help. He felt bad for Joel. The screaming baby in the background was already getting on his nerves, and he wasn’t there with them. “All right, maybe there is something going on with the baby other than just colic. You and Lacey need to take Tucker to the doctor for a check-up.”

      “We thought you could look at him,” Joel said. “Since neither of us has health insurance.”

      “There’s a low-income family clinic that caters for mothers and babies in Lacey’s position,” Brock explained patiently. “I don’t mind taking a look at Tucker, but I’m not a peds expert. And I can’t run lab tests on him to see if he has some sort of infection. Or do a chest X-ray of his lungs if he needs one. You could bring him to the ED while I’m working, but that will end up costing you more than simply going to the clinic. I really think you should go where they can offer the most help.”

      “All right. Where is this so-called clinic?” Joel asked in defeat.

      Brock

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