Page 3 of Her Desire (Pulse Medical #3)

HOLLY

T he OR was Holly’s sanctuary. A place where she could tune out everything and just focus. Her job involved putting patients under, keeping them safe, and waking them up again.

This morning’s surgery was no different. A knee replacement for a sixty-three-year-old who dreamt of one day walking the PCT, or at least some portion of it.

The surgery was straightforward and uncomplicated, and while the surgeon sliced through tissue and bone, Holly hovered over the monitors and made sure the patient was blissfully unaware of what was going on in the operating room.

It was predictable. Controlled. The kind of work that made sense in a world that often didn’t. And Holly liked things that made sense.

Which was why her upcoming date with Brian on Friday night rattled her more than she wanted to admit. She adjusted the IV line, even though she knew it was fine and didn’t need any adjusting.

Stop overthinking , she told herself.

But overthinking was kind of her thing .

After all, she was the one who was responsible for every aspect of anesthesia during the surgery—monitoring the patient’s vitals, keeping a close eye on the EKG and blood pressure, adjusting medication levels, and making sure the patient remained as safe as ever.

Some people thought her field was boring, just hours of pushing buttons and watching monitors.

But it wasn’t at all like that. Holly thought of her profession as a game of chess, except a patient’s life was at stake.

People hardly ever gave her the credit for being the one who kept things running smoothly.

Gianna once said, “ It’s like you’re a magician but no one sees you pulling the rabbit out of your hat .”

Holly had laughed, grateful that her friend had a sense of humor and that she always knew how to lighten the mood, even if it took some effort.

There was no doubt in Holly’s mind that Gianna embodied her profession as a pediatric surgeon—patient, precise, and annoyingly good at making tiny humans trust her within seconds—and from what Holly knew, she was also damn good at her job.

For just a second, her thoughts wandered to yesterday’s conversation. Gianna had talked her off the ledge after she’d spiraled over the smallest details about her date with Brian. A date she couldn’t decide if she was looking forward to or not.

Brian was nice enough and handsome too. He had a full head of hair, which frankly, was something to be appreciated in a man these days.

Their text messages up until now had been strictly friendly, just the typical How are you, how’s your day been?

Which was either a good or a bad thing—Holly wasn’t quite sure.

And just like yesterday, that little voice started back up in her head. What if we run out of things to talk about? What if he thinks I’m too sarcastic? Too boring. What if he never even meant to ask me out?

There were so many “what ifs” she couldn’t keep her head straight. At least the steady beep of the heart monitor kept her grounded. Good. She needed to focus. No distractions. Her job was too important for that.

Holly checked the blood oxygen levels again. The patient was stable.

Still, it was hard not to think about the date. About how Gianna had told her, “ Just be you because you are exactly what someone would want. ” A comment she hadn’t expected. Or even understood completely. A comment she couldn’t really get out of her mind.

“Vitals stable,” Holly muttered, concentrating on the monitor again. Everything was running smoothly. Perfectly. She wasn’t just watching numbers, she was interpreting them, knowing which fluctuations were normal and which ones needed immediate attention?—

“Lucas,” said a voice, breaking right through her concentration.

Holly didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Doctor James Caldwell. The man had the voice of a foghorn, the subtlety of a blowhorn, and the arrogance of an orthopedic surgeon who had too much smoke blown up his ass.

Still, they often worked together. And civility was key. Or so the retired Chief Meissner had said before leaving.

“Yes, Doctor Caldwell,” Holly muttered, holding back the urge to roll her eyes. She braced herself for whatever he had to say and hoped it was quick. But knowing his knack for storytelling—always about himself—she was pretty sure she’d be stuck in a loop of polite nods.

“I heard you’ve got plans this weekend?” he said, glancing up at her. The mask on his face covered everything except for his eyes, but Holly was quite sure he was grinning, and not pleasantly.

Holly’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

Caldwell clicked the drill in place. “I’m in the same running club as your guy—Brian, right? Heard you two are going on a date. A little trip to the Tidal Catch. That place has great reviews by the way. King prawns the size of my face.”

Holly’s stomach did far too many flips and she could practically feel the heat creeping up her neck.

Great. Now everyone in the OR knew about her date.

What was worse was that Caldwell knew more about it than she did.

The last time she spoke to Brian, he told her dinner was going to be a surprise.

And now she had to hear it from her least favorite orthopedic surgeon that dinner involved seafood.

Which would’ve been fine—if Holly wasn’t deathly allergic to shellfish.

“Good to know,” Holly muttered, wishing she could just tune Caldwell out and be done with it. But he was like an annoying mosquito hovering at her ear.

Caldwell, of course, didn’t take the hint to shut up.

“Brian’s a decent guy. Got a pretty good pace on him too.

He’s been running with us most mornings.

I’d say he’s more of a mid-pack guy, but he’s been pushing himself lately.

You must be a good motivator.” Caldwell winked and chuckled, which had the assisting surgeon, an intern, chuckling as well.

Holly could feel her eye twitch. Every fiber of her being wanted to tell him to mind his own business and get back to the surgery, but all she ended up doing was forcing a smile. “Thanks for that, Caldwell.”

“Well, I’m just saying,” he went on, angling the drill. “I could even give you a few tips about Brian. What he likes and doesn’t.” The drill whirred to life, buzzing mechanically as Caldwell secured the tibial component into its place.

“Nope,” Holly said as quickly as the drill powered down.

“I’m all good thanks.” She couldn’t wait for the surgery to end.

Not just to get away from Caldwell—thankfully she had no more surgeries scheduled with him today—but also to find Gianna and tell her all about this conversation.

One thing Gianna liked less than seeing sick kids suffer was Dr. James Caldwell.

And besides, Holly needed a little more reassurance from her friend.

Another chitchat to calm down this storm brewing in her chest. If there was one thing Gianna did well, it was making everything feel a little less like the world was caving in.

“Are you sure?” Caldwell asked, raising a single brow. “I’m sure you know how it is—guys talk. I could give you a few pointers. Brian’s got his quirks.

There was only so much Holly could take. She took a deep breath in through her nose, held it for a second, then two, and exhaled. “No thank you, James. I’d rather figure them out on my own.”

He lifted up both hands—one still holding the drill—gloves bloody, in surrender. “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She wouldn’t dare.

The rest of the surgery passed without incident, and by the time Holly was rushing down the hallway to the break room, hoping to find Gianna at the coffee machine, she’d already messaged Brian to ask him where they were headed on their date.

It wasn’t a subtle message. But it was necessary. If his reply confirmed what Caldwell had said, she had to put a quick end to it. For the sake of her throat, which tended to swell up like a pufferfish at the mere hint of prawn.

“Heard Caldwell called you out in the theater today?” Gianna said as soon as Holly burst through the break room door. She was smiling—of course she was, she was one of those infuriatingly perceptive people—holding a cup of coffee to her lips.

Holly sighed long and deep and sunk into one of the two couches.

Normally, she wouldn’t dare plonk her butt on either of them, but this morning she felt too exhausted to care that people had definitely had sex on them.

She ran her fingers through her hair, and muttered, “Someone’s got to tell him to mind his own business. ”

“Why don’t you do it?” Gianna asked, settling down beside her, but not before she gave a quick wrinkle of her nose as she looked down at the couches. Everyone knew about the history of the navy blue couches in the doctor’s break room.

“Me?” Holly scoffed, tilting her head back against the worn fabric. “I’d rather intubate myself.”

Gianna chuckled and shifted back into the seat before she crossed one leg over the other.

“Might be less painful.” Just like many other peds, Gianna always wore brightly colored scrubs.

The kids loved it, so it made sense. Today, she was dressed in lilac scrubs that made her Italian skin glow like sun-warmed bronze, and she had her dark wavy hair up into a ponytail.

“Glad you’re amused, G,” Holly said, pulling a face. She wasn’t being serious, of course.

Gianna smiled and took another sip from her cup. The delicious smell of coffee wafted between them, and Holly, who, when she was done feeling sorry for herself, was going to pour herself a big cup. She needed all the caffeine she could get for the rest of the day.

“Why do you think he’s so invested in your love life?” Gianna asked. “I mean, I get that ortho guys have an inflated sense of importance, but this seems like a step too far.”