Just For Us: A Cerasino Family Novella (Cerasino Family Novellas Book 4) Read online

  Just For Us

  Cerasino Family Novellas, Volume 4

  Abbie Zanders

  Published by Abbie Zanders, 2022.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Just For Us (Cerasino Family Novellas, #4)

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One—Sofia

  Chapter Two—Grant

  Chapter Three—Sofia

  Chapter Four—Grant

  Chapter Five—Sofia

  Chapter Six—Grant

  Chapter Seven—Sofia

  Chapter Eight—Grant

  Chapter Nine—Sofia

  Chapter Ten—Grant

  Chapter Eleven—Sofia

  Chapter Twelve—Grant

  Chapter Thirteen—Sofia

  Chapter Fourteen—Grant

  Chapter Fifteen—Sofia

  Chapter Sixteen—Grant

  Chapter Seventeen—Sofia

  Chapter Eighteen—Grant

  Chapter Nineteen—Sofia

  Chapter Twenty—Grant

  Epilogue—Sofia

  Epilogue—Grant

  Ready for Adam & Holly?

  Connect with Abbie

  Just For Us

  Cerasino Family Novellas, Book Four

  Abbie Zanders

  Copyright © 2022 by Abbie Zanders

  All rights reserved.

  Visit my website at https://abbiezandersromance.com

  Cover Designer: Cosmic Letterz

  Editor: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Acknowledgements

  This book is dedicated to my mom, an OR nurse who has dealt with more than her share of cocky surgeons over the years, and my biggest and proudest supporter. Love you, Mom!

  Chapter One—Sofia

  “Incoming!” one of the new first years called out from the emergency room doors as yet another ambulance pulled up.

  A fire at the nearby assisted living facility had kept us hopping all night. Thankfully, most of those we’d seen so far had sustained only minor injuries that could be quickly treated and released. The biggest problem was, they had nowhere else to go.

  “How many?” I asked, stripping off my gloves as I finished one assessment and prepared for the next.

  Our ER wasn’t equipped to handle that many people at once, and we’d had to pull every free bed on wheels down and turn the waiting area into a triage center. Every gurney and every chair were occupied.

  “Just one. One of the firefighters.”

  My blood turned to ice. A cold wave of panic washed over me as my gaze lifted to the doors. My brother Dom was a firefighter, and my heart knew with certainty that he was the one in that ambulance.

  My fears were confirmed when I recognized the cop rushing in ahead of the EMTs. He was another brother of mine, Vinnie.

  His eyes scanned the room and locked on to mine. He looked concerned, but not scared, and that calmed my nerves somewhat. If the situation were really bad, I would have seen it on his face.

  It’s Dom? I asked silently with my eyes.

  He nodded once.

  The gurney came out of the ambulance, and I met the EMTs just inside the doors. They rattled off stats—pulse, oxygen, heart rate, BP, et cetera—and I processed them like the seasoned ER doc I was. Cool, calm, professional. On the inside, however, my gut twisted at the sight of my brother’s face, covered in black soot, eyes closed.

  “Exam 4,” I commanded, moving briskly alongside them. “What happened, Vin?”

  “They thought everyone was out,” Vinnie said. “But then one of the women started screaming that Mildred was still inside.”

  “And Dom went back,” I finished knowingly. My brothers, all four of them, came from a long line of chivalrous, protector alpha-male types. “Did he get her out?”

  Vin smirked. “Oh, he got her out all right.”

  We reached the exam room. The attendants lifted Dom from the gurney onto a bed, then stepped back to let me do my thing. They didn’t go far, however. I could sense their hovering presence, waiting to hear what I had to say about Dom’s injuries.

  I lifted Dom’s lids and shone a penlight into his eyes, pleased to find them responsive. His pulse was strong, his heartbeat steady. Feeling my chest loosen a little, I gave him a quick once-over. He presented with the symptoms of mild smoke inhalation. Nothing overly worrisome for someone in as good a shape as he was.

  “Is he going to be okay, Doc?” asked one of the guys who’d followed us in. The lot of them looked at me expectantly.

  “He’s going to be fine,” I assured them, positioning the tube below his nose to deliver pure oxygen straight into his nostrils. “I’ll order some tests and keep him overnight, but there’s no need to worry.” I offered Dom’s buddies a smile. “Go on now. I hear the cafeteria’s got free coffee and cookies for first responders tonight.”

  They grinned back at me. Our cafeteria had free coffee and cookies for first responders every night. Our community took care of our own.

  They nodded and walked away reluctantly.

  “You too,” I told Vinnie, knowing his shift had ended and his woman, Haven, was waiting on him at home. “Get outta here. I’ve got this.”

  “I know, but I’m going to stick around until he’s ready to go upstairs.”

  I nodded, unsurprised.

  “What about the woman he went in to save? Mildred?” I’d seen more than two dozen seniors over the course of the last hour, but I didn’t remember any of them being called Mildred.

  “Mildred’s just fine,” Vinnie said, amusement in his voice.

  I looked to Vin and raised my eyebrow, sensing a story.

  “Mildred is a cat,” he explained, his lips quirking.

  Well, that was a plot twist I hadn’t seen coming. I looked down again at Dom’s soot-smudged face. “Let me guess. He used his mask on the cat, didn’t he?”

  Vin nodded and held up his phone. On the screen was a picture of Dom exiting the burning building with an animal cradled in his arms. The creature was barely visible beneath the mask.

  “A kitten in fact. It’s already trending.”

  I rolled my eyes. As a popular model in my cousin Lucia’s annual charity calendar, Dom already had half the female population of Cecilton sighing and swooning. As word of this spread, he’d shoot up to the top of the most eligible bachelors list, if there was such a thing.

  “God help us,” I said. “They’re going to be camping out on his doorstep now, aren’t they?”

  “Probably,” Vin agreed.

  “Just what we need,” I said on an exhale. “I hope the fire chief has a bigger helmet for him. Dom’s going to need one to wrap around that inflated head of his.”

  Dom began coughing, though I think it had started out as a laugh. “Jealous, Sofe?”

  I was kind of jealous. I was in a dry spell, and with my work schedule, I had zero time for a social life. Oh, I suppose I could’ve popped into a supply closet for a quickie like so many others, but I tended to be rather particular. Good sex w
as like good food, in my opinion. It should be savored and not rushed.

  Vinnie laughed and shook his head. “Sofe’s doing just fine. A half-dozen EMTs and firefighters came back with you, and it wasn’t to make sure you were okay.”

  I ignored him. He was just teasing, and Dom’s firefighter buddies were a flirty lot by nature.

  Dom reached up to pull the tube away from his nose. I stopped him.

  “Keep it there for a little while, okay? You’ve got a mild case of smoke inhalation, and I don’t expect any issues, but I’m going to order a chest X-ray, just to be sure.”

  “I’m fine,” he insisted.

  I gave him my sternest look. “I don’t tell you how to fight fires, do I? Don’t make me stick a needle in your ass, Dominic.”

  “I’d listen to her if I were you,” Vin told him. “Besides, I hear the new imaging tech is pretty hot.”

  Dom’s eyes brightened. “Yeah?”

  I hid my smile. The new imaging tech was good-looking but also male and, therefore, not my hetero playboy brother’s type. I wondered if Vinnie knew this. From the smirk he gave me, he did.

  “Hey, Doc, got a sec?” One of the first years peeked around the curtain, looking half-cocky, half-terrified. “I’ve got a question about ...” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes widened slightly when she saw my brothers.

  I sighed, recognizing the starry look in her eyes. I’d seen it so many times over the course of my life. I supposed my brothers were kind of good-looking, but they were my brothers, so ew.

  “Yeah.” I took her by the arm and led her away, out of immediate eye-assault range. “What’s up?”

  She pointed to a laptop on a raised rolling stand. “I’d like to call in an ortho consult on this.”

  As the senior resident in the ER, it was my job to review orders until the newbies found their rhythm. Cecilton wasn’t a massive medical center, so we didn’t get as many as some, but it was still a huge time suck.

  I looked over her clinical notes and assessment and nodded my approval. “Nicely done. Do it.”

  She beamed back with something like hero worship. I remembered feeling the same way the first time a senior doc told me I’d done a good job. It felt like a lifetime ago. Doctor years were kind of like dog years in that respect.

  Before I could take a moment and appreciate the sense of satisfaction, another intern was vying for my attention.

  Chapter Two—Grant

  I’d stayed late, wanting to bring myself up to speed. As the new guy in an established practice, I felt compelled to prove myself. Cecilton Elite Orthopedics had a reputation for being one of the best on the East Coast, and competition for the open position had been fierce.

  Besides, I had nothing else to do. Thanks to a series of miscommunications, my new condo had neither cable nor internet. In fact, it didn’t have much of anything besides the barest of necessities. I was sleeping on an air mattress and living out of boxes until I could force myself to go furniture shopping.

  With that in mind, I crossed the walkway bridge from the medical offices into the hospital and followed the signs to the cafeteria. I’d grab a hot meal before I went back to my place for a couple hours of sleep.

  Something smelled fantastic, but I was hungry enough that even steamed broccoli would’ve appealed to me—and I hated broccoli almost as much as I despised okra.

  I shuddered, thinking of my first couple years of residency down South. For a New York boy like me, it had been quite the culture shock. Loved the people. Hated the food.

  Thankfully, I saw neither broccoli nor okra among the offerings. The steak and shrimp stir-fry looked phenomenal, so I ordered that. Another pleasant surprise: everything was made fresh to order. If the food tasted even half as good as it smelled, I’d be eating here a lot.

  While I waited, I looked around. The cafeteria was spacious and airy, decorated in cool pastels with plenty of available seating. I imagined it would be a lot busier during peak mealtimes.

  So far, I liked what I saw. Cecilton Memorial was nothing like the high-volume place I’d just transferred from, which suited me fine.

  A group of firefighters and EMTs came in while I waited, drawing my attention. They appeared to be in high spirits as they headed toward a table to my left. A motherly-looking woman beamed at them and called them by their first names as she handed out massive homemade cookies and coffee. My opinion of the place rose another notch.

  “She smiled at me,” I overheard one of the guys saying.

  “You’re delusional. She was smiling at me,” said another, shoulder-bumping the first.

  “You’re both delusional. Sofia’s out of your league.”

  “Yeah, and her brothers will kick your ass if you even think about trying to tap that.”

  Sofia. The name hit me just right. I didn’t know why. It sounded at once classic and feminine. And if the young male first responders were anything to go by, it belonged to a classy, attractive woman.

  Not that I was on the prowl or anything, but if everything worked out with Cecilton Elite the way I thought it would, I could see putting myself out there. Maybe. I hadn’t been particularly fortunate in the romance department. My career had always come first, and on those rare occasions when it hadn’t, I hadn’t found anyone worth the effort.

  Sounded cold, I knew, but what could I say? I didn’t believe in pursuing something I knew wasn’t going anywhere.

  The man on the other side of the counter informed me my food was ready. I thanked him, took my tray to the register, then headed for an open seat along the wall, my stomach rumbling in anticipation.

  The first bite confirmed the meal was every bit as good as it smelled. Better even than some I’d had in overpriced restaurants. I was definitely going to get as many meals here as possible since my mad skills in the operating room did not extend to the kitchen.

  The fork was halfway to my mouth for a second time when my pager went off, reminding me that I was on call. I’d forgotten I even had the thing on me, as it had been so quiet. I checked the display and saw the code for the ER, meaning it probably wasn’t something I should blow off.

  I looked longingly at my plate and sighed.

  I managed to shovel two more forkfuls into my mouth while I was walking toward the exit. Yeah, it was that good.

  Every chair in the ER was packed, mostly with senior citizens. Volunteers were moving about, trying to herd them away from the doors and the exam areas.

  “What’s going on?” I asked one of the harried-looking aids.

  She glanced at my ID, her initial irritation softening somewhat. “Fire at the assisted living facility. No serious injuries, but they brought everyone here to get checked out. Doc C’s got her hands full between fending off the dirty old men and babysitting the new batch of first years.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not a first year, are you?”

  I was flattered she thought I looked young enough to be fresh out of med school. “No, but I am new here. I was called down for an ortho consult.”

  “Through there,” she instructed, lifting her chin toward the double doors. “Welcome to Cecilton. Good luck!”

  I turned toward the doors she’d indicated, chuckling to myself when I heard her scolding two older gentlemen who were apparently setting up for a wheelchair race.

  A semicircular triage desk sat within the restricted area. A seasoned but swamped RN pointed me toward a curtained area.

  “Someone call for an ortho consult?” I asked.

  “Me!” A young blonde with curly hair raised her hand in a wave.

  I quickly pegged her as one of the first years. New residents tended to have this look of triumph and abject fear about them—and with good reason. Residency was when things started to feel real.

  I wondered if she was the Sofia I’d heard the firefighters talking about. She was pretty, if a bit on the anxious side, which made her run on at the mouth a bit. I tried to keep that in mind as I did the consult.

  The resident introduce
d the patient as Mary White, an older woman, one with bright cornflower-blue eyes and an assessing gaze.

  “You’re new here,” Mary said, eyeing me critically.

  “Yes. I’m Dr. Mitchell.”

  “You’re better-looking than Dr. Foster. Nicer hands too.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I said nothing. I concentrated on her issue, manipulating her knee as the first year looked on. Judging by the scars, Mary had had a total knee replacement not too long ago.

  “What happened?”

  “Just locked up and then gave out on me while we were evacuating,” she said, wincing in pain.

  I sat back. “Does it do that often?”

  “Often enough. Hasn’t been right since I had the replacement. Should have never had it done. I was in less pain before.”

  “Have you talked to your doctor?”

  She made a sound of displeasure. “Dr. Foster doesn’t listen. Says it’s arthritis and there’s nothing he can do, but I know my body, and I’m telling you, something’s not right.”

  I withheld professional judgment. I didn’t know Dr. Foster, but I had enough experience to know that the patient’s point of view often differed from the physician’s.

  “When was your last MRI?”

  “About two years ago, I guess. Before the surgery.”

  “Well, Mary, I think it’s time to order another.” I scribbled the order on the tablet and handed it to the resident. “Let’s figure out what’s going on in there, and then we can talk about what we’re going to do about it.”

  She beamed at me gratefully, and then her eyes turned calculating. “Are you married, Dr. Mitchell?”

  Warning bells went off in my head. She probably had a granddaughter she wanted me to meet. What was it with older women and their incessant need to play matchmaker?

  “Does it matter?” I asked.

  Her blue eyes twinkled mischievously. “It might.”

  I turned to the resident, not interested in pursuing the discussion further. “Let me know when these are done.”