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sylvie-writes · 3 years

Text

Dr. Husband

word count: 5278

pairing: doctor steve rogers x wife reader

warnings: talks about heat exhaustion? there’s nothing graphic, but if the hospital theme bothers you, then this isn’t the fic to read!

prompts (from @/fluffyomlette): “Your pulse is a little high. Is it because I’m holding your hand?” and “You’re not supposed to pick favourites, doc.” “Trust me, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

a/n: this just popped in my head about a month ago and i had to write it for no explainable reason. i really couldn’t think of a title oops. if you all have a better idea please tell me so i can change it lol.

please excuse any mistakes!

Summer was finally in full force, blazing sun rays beamed down on the dry ground and once gorgeous flowers drooped in dire need of water. Sounds of children playing outside, pool water splashing as a result of cannonballs, while lawnmowers whirled to life and laughter from the watching wives resounded this afternoon. In your neighborhood, it was tradition that the women would get together every other Saturday and have drinks in the cul-de-sac while their husbands had unsaid competitions of manicuring their yards. Unfortunately for you, your husband was a doctor and that meant little time for him to do the yard, and you didn’t have children at the moment that could go play with the others. The women who were your neighbors were a bit too picky choosy for your taste. They only seemed to bond over their children and sitting around home, two of which you didn’t have or do, so you weren’t ever truly invited to their day-drinking. It was actually fine with you as these people were so hot n’cold and you were just tired of trying to fit in with faux friends. You had plenty of true friends and then your husband who was a child of his own.

For three weekends so far, Steve had told you he’d cut the lawn and as much as you wanted to believe him, you knew that he was so exhausted from work and being on call a majority of the time, that he would never find the hours to do so. That was okay with you because what he did was important and you weren’t gonna be on his ass like the feds about the yard when you could easily do it yourself. It wasn’t like he was just sitting around, no, he was working so you just decided to cut the lawn yourself, something you’d done plenty of times before.

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Unfortunately the day you chose to do so, the sun was out blazing and a simple walk out the door was a trip to an off-brand hell. Instead of making a wise decision and waiting to cut the grass in the evening, you chose the latter and decided to cut the grass at noon, the very time the sun was in full shine.

Dressed in attire for yard work and having already eaten a sandwich for lunch, you headed out the garage door to tackle the mess there in hopes of finding the push mower within. Steve’s father, Joseph, had given you both a lot of his lawn equipment, but the riding mower was broken at the moment and you (again) stupidly decided to push mow the almost two acre lawn. It took a good half hour to get the darned thing out on the driveway and while doing so, you noticed that your neighbors, the wives to be exact, had decided to come out for one of their occasional and somehow spontaneous get-togethers which consisted of unattended kids drawing with chalk as their mothers sat a few feet away dipping their feet in the small splash pool. You often found the idea both inventive and funny.

For only a second more did you let your attention linger on the group before returning back to fill the lawn mower with gasoline. After doing so, you tossed on a pair of sunglasses and went full steam ahead with cutting the grass, disregarding the rising, and very unsafe, temperature.

About an hour in, the temp had already risen to be above 100 and something no one should have spent any longer than half an hour in. Steve had always said you were stubborn at all the wrong times and boy was he right. You had just finished up half of the front yard and quarter of the back yard. It was mad that you were actually thinking about pushing mowing two acres, especially in this unruly weather.

You were so determined and when your mind was set on something, you let all other matters slip away, including regards for your own health. The unusual amount of sweat on your skin seemed to go unnoticed by you as well did the growing headache.

Finally, about half an hour later, more of the backyard was finished and your inner saboteur continued to influence your goals.

“Just finish this half and you will be close enough to the end,” translated into “Just finish the whole yard, you might as well since you are this close.”

This was the worst mindset to have, especially with the given circumstances as you had been out here for at least two hours, no drinks of any sort, no real breaks aside from fueling the lawn mower, and no cares to the worsening symptoms that now included noticeable dizziness.

The lawn mower eventually ran out of gas and you went to refill it once more. Making your way through the front yard, your unknown adrenaline rush came to an end along with the machine’s power. It wasn’t until your vision started to star and blur that you finally noticed your decline in health, but by then it was too late and you were on the plush and groomed grass of the front yard. Ironically, you noticed the fruits of your labor since you were currently laying on it.

Five minutes had passed since your drop to the ground and one of the ladies out in the court, Genevieve, noticed your figure, quite the contrast to the viridescent grass. Despite that she thought you were “demented” for cutting the grass yourself, she knew you weren’t unhinged, so to say, that you would just lay on the grass as it would serve no purpose to do so. She didn’t take you for a nature lover either so this was not normal.

Genevieve squatted down in the lawn, her sparkly sandals reflecting in the sea of green. Unknowing of what to do, the woman in a panic threw the back of her hand to your forehead and you burned hotter than a metal kettle. By time she stood, the other ladies had gathered around and were now circling in mass hysteria as if they were staring at a dead body and not your unconscious, yet breathing frame. Many long seconds later, Priscilla, who was Genevieve’s closest friend and who despised you as much as you did her, decided to call 911. The other moms then left to go usher their children away from what they described as a “traumatic experience” and back to their large homes for some sort of last minute luncheon.

Eventually, an ambulance arrived in your usually quiet neighborhood, something that was clearly displayed as almost every neighbor popped their heads out of their houses in sheer curiosity. Their nosey nature often bothered you but was normally put behind some sort of service act such as a baked cake or bottle of wine just to be invited into your house. You didn’t miss the way your neighbors would study your house when they were finally welcomed in. Steve was much better at hiding his cross nature and would return some compassion of his own while you struggled to bottle your annoyance and sealed it with a forced smile. As luck would have it though, you were knocked out and couldn’t give them a piece of your mind for staring because heavens know this would’ve been the last straw and no one could have stopped your rant.

It was when you were in the red wagon and being attended over by paramedics that you noticed you were on the way to somewhere that wasn’t home.

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At the hospital, the doctor and nurses hydrated you back to reality and suddenly you appeared in a bed, a doctor standing at the side with a clipboard in hand allowing your mind to draw up a million conclusions before you remembered what you had done last.

The doctor spoke a fast introduction and he then moved on to fill you in on what had happened as confusion still painted your face although when he told you Genevieve’s account of what led up to your ultimate passing out, you visibly cringed at such carelessness that ended up bringing you here. Hundreds of falls, burns, and bruises thanks to your clumsy nature, but this had to be the one thing to send you to the hospital. Some sort of twisted joke it sure was.

Moving to roll a stool to your bedside, the doctor passed you a cold bottle of water before bringing his eyes to give your IV a quick check as a nurse had put it in not too long before you awoke.

“Luckily, Mrs. Rogers, your neighbors found you in time and you only experienced severe heat exhaustion. Had you prolonged your exposure anymore you could have experienced a heat stroke. For now, I ask that you rest and I’ll come back to release you.” The doctor expressed his reassurance with a kind grin before walking out of the plain and boxy room that could make one go insane with its lack of liveliness.

Staring out the open doorway and into the empty hallway, you knew that Steve worked on this very floor, but honestly what were the chances that he’d see you? At one point he’d eventually find out about today’s mishaps, but that was a problem for later when you were more conscious and caring. Letting your worries temporarily go (something that was only happening thanks to your fatigued mind), you slightly shifted into a somewhat “comfortable” position on the stiff bed and rough cotton sheets. Albeit that there was an IV uncomfortably stuck in your arm, you fell into a much needed slumber.

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Lunch break at last.

That was all that had been on Steve's mind for the past three hours which had been extremely hectic. Granted, he was used to this fast-paced workplace having worked here for almost a decade, but today was absolutely out of control with injured patients coming in left and right. It wasn’t some sort of bad omen, rather just an unlucky day for many Steve had assumed. He had just finished up with a pediatric case and was now on his way to enjoy the leftover baked chicken salsa that you had made just for him last night and packed for his lunch this morning. You knew how busy his week had been and you took the liberty to make his favorite dinner dish to compensate for the work that had left such a toll on him. A smile immediately overtook his face when he walked in the house last night and that’s when you decided that you would gladly cook anything he’d like over and over again just to see that look of adoration. As Steve held you in his arms at that moment, he kept thinking how he really didn’t deserve you and little did he know, the same thought ran in your own mind. Yet, in reality, you both went together like a puzzle piece to a puzzle. Without the piece, the picture would never be completed and without the other, you and Steve would have never enjoyed life to the fullest.

Strutting down the never ending hall, Steve passed many doors, some he had been in just a mere hour or two ago. As he walked past an open door and did a double take as he saw a patient asleep, but no sign of anyone else in the room. If he were that patient, he’d want the door shut for some privacy, something which the man highly valued, so he crossed the short distance and closed the door. He didn’t mean to look at the patient for so long as they weren’t in his care and that would be awfully creepy, but Steve could help but do a double take and noticed that the familiar face was, in fact, you. From first glance it didn’t even look like you and that was coming from the man who had studied your face just to commit it to his memory. In a loving way, of course.

He slowly walked in your room, taking in the image before him of you lying in a hospital bed. His mind had assumed that the worst thing had happened to you and for a moment, Steve’s breathing ceased and his legs were glued to the ground. As his eyes scanned over your body again, his fears were calmed when there were no visible wounds and you just seemed to be resting. Although as a doctor, he unfortunately knew anything could be possible.

Hunching over the top half of the bed, Steve smoothed your stray hairs away from your forehead and placed an awakening kiss there. You were a light sleeper a majority of the time and your spouse knew that this small action would wake, but not startle you. Every night he’d come home from work and do the same thing except then he knew you were safe and sound. Now, he was just filled with uncertainty.

“What happened?” Those were the only words he was able to get out and you gave him an answer, just not one that he was looking for. You were already getting defensive and he could sense it.

“Genevieve saw me pass out in the yard and overreacted, Steven. You know they all don’t exactly have good track records with medicine.” You rolled your eyes at the last statement remembering how your neighbors have often nonchalantly tried to get Steve to diagnose them when it came to something as simple as a scrape. Then again, all of your neighbors were in the business industry so that explained their lack of medical knowledge or at least that is the excuse you drew up for them.

“Nice try, (y/n), but you do have a medical chart and it’s over there,” Steve pointed over his shoulder and towards the doorway where a plastic chart holder sat mounted on the cream wall. “You didn’t just pass out, and the neighbors did not overreact. They did the right thing despite how much I know you hate that. Now, either you tell me the truth or I go read that file.” His tone was serious, but not condescending. Hidden in his eyes was a tad sprinkle of mischief.

Stubborn as ever, you didn’t respond and folded your arms over your chest in a form of defiance.

Against what is probably legal, Steve picked up your medical chart to read what had happened as you wouldn’t disclose the information to him. Your husband was a worry-wart sometimes and while you appreciated how he doctored you when you were sick, he could be a bit overbearing. A great example would be the time when you were cooking dinner and burned your forearm when taking the casserole out of the oven.

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“Babe, dinner is ready!”

The timer on the oven was currently beeping and you walked towards it. Turning off both the oven and the timer, you grabbed a short oven mitt and reached in to grab the casserole dish off the top rack. As you did so, you lifted your arm a bit too high and hit the side of your forearm on the interior roof of the oven. The temperature was ridiculously hot and the pain was immensely strong that you immediately pulled your arm back, the casserole long forgotten.

Steve came running in at your string of curses and came in to see you holding your arm and hissing a bit as if that would relieve the pain. He walked closer to you as you leaned up against the island. Your husband delicately took your arm in his hand, raking his eyes over the burn that was soon to blister.

After a short inspection, Steve placed his other hand on the small over your back and led you to the sink, flipping on the cold water and running it over your burn. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see you squeezing your own eyes shut in pain.

“I know, sweetheart, it hurts, I’m sorry.” He continued to rinse your scalded skin, but turned his head to sweetly kiss your temple.

A few minutes passed and Steve was content with the rinse job as you had finally opened your eyes, even engaging in some of your jokes that were always said at the wrong time. From the kitchen, the man guided you down the hallway, through your bedroom and into your joined bathroom. He sat you on the edge of the bathroom tub while rummaging through your unorganized medicine cabinet. It was barely ever touched and when it was, it was often in a state of panic hence the messiness of it. Fortunately, Steve found a tube of bacitracin and some cotton dressings from God knows how long ago. At this point he could care less and would rather have you cared for.

You curiously watched him as he dug through the cabinet and a loving smile grew on your face. How lucky were you to have this man. You were really appreciative of him in times like these especially.

Said man returned and crouched before you, distracting you from your thoughts as he softly grabbed your hand once more.

The doctor worked his magic and in no time was your arm wrapped up and lathered in ointment.

“Wow Doc, you did a great job.” Steve was still holding your hand as you quietly giggled in content. He placed a kiss on top of your knuckles and peered up at you with those gorgeous (and borderline seductive) sapphire eyes. Chuckling, Steve murmured against your skin, “Only for my favorite patient.”

As always, you decided to play along with Steve’s playful banter. “You’re not supposed to pick favorites, doc.”

Your husband knew your clumsy nature and seemed to have the perfect response, “Trust me, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

With your non-injured hand you went to hit his shoulder and he grabbed it in faux hurt.

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“You know, Dr. Rogers, that is a violation and I can actually report you for it.” You lifted your line of sight to see Steve who looked back at you with his lips pressed in a fine line. He shook his head disapprovingly after reaching the end of the report and now looked like he was going to sit back in the seat beside your bed.

“Hey, what are you doing? They already examined me and I am about to get released.” The man ignored you and instead leaned over the flimsy bed railing. Steve rubbed his hands together in a warming manner before placing two fingers on your next in an attempt to find your pulse. He unfortunately carried that common trait among doctors of having hands that were colder than that of a penguin’s ass. You knew very well this pulse check was useless as you were in conditional health and that he was probably doing this to annoy you.

“Well I like to do a check of my own. It never hurts to get a second opinion, darling.” Blue eyes squinted at you and you returned the patronizing gesture.

The free hand that was not on your neck had found its way to hold your own hand and when your husband pulled back, he wore a smug smirk on his lips.

“Your pulse is a little high. Is it because I’m holding your hand?”

“You know, your shoulders must hurt from carrying such a big head all the time.” Steve had the nerve to laugh at your elementary grade insult and even though you weren’t really mad, your face would have said otherwise to anyone else.

“So I’ll take that as a yes then, wifey.” He then quickly dropped to press a chaste kiss to your lips before releasing your hand and sitting down in the chair.

Looking to the clock on the wall, you focused your vision on the distant numbers to read that it was most likely Steve’s lunch break.

“Are you spending your lunch break with me?” Your tone was now sweet and soft as it usually was towards Steve and his heart leaped at the progress being made.

“It seems that I am. ‘Was really looking forward to that chicken salsa, though.” A heap of blonde hair rested on your hand that Steve had now laid his head against, still holding tight with both of his own hands. You giggled at his dramatics and ruffled a free hand through his greasy hair.

“I haven’t eaten anything, you think you could spend your lunch break with me?” His head popped up at this and his face held the eagerness of an energetic puppy.

“Of course, sweetheart. We can head to the cafeteria. Hopefully they have something good for my girl.” It was now your turn for your heart to swell at his words. Not even a second later though, the sentimental moment was replaced with Steve’s usual sarcastic humor.

“See, I love you so much that I am willing to sacrifice my precious chicken salsa just to have lunch with you. You should be grateful to have me as your husband.” Steve’s pearly whites beamed at you in a cheesy smile and you gave a dismissive wave of your hand.

The two of you talked and enjoyed the rare time together for the next ten minutes until Steve noticed you shifting to sit up against the pillows. He thought nothing of it until suddenly you were throwing your legs over the side of the bed and making to get out of the so called cotton prison.

Waving a finger, Steve tutted you and hurriedly scooped your legs back onto the bed. You looked absolutely peeved and Steve knew it was from the way that he was treating you like a child or better yet, a patient. His wife, the fighter and he, the doctor. Two unlikely personalities but ones that worked best together nonetheless. This made Steve laugh whenever he thought about it.

“You can get up the minute you get released by the doc, okay?” Caring eyes now gave you a pleading look and you felt a small tinge of guilt crawling up your chest at how mean you had been to your husband when he has only been trying to help.

A knock on the wooden door signaled a visit from the one person you had been waiting on for what seemed to be ages.

“Speak of the devil.” Muttering the phrase so only Steve could hear you gave him an “I told you so” kind of look.

The Doctor looked up from the same clipboard as earlier to greet you once he made it in through the doorway, but he was surely surprised by the figure sitting in the chair beside you.

“Oh Dr. Rogers, what a surprise! So this is your wife I presume? I guess I should have put two and two together,” Your doctor of the moment laughed with Steve who added in a chuckle or two of his own.

“Yep, this is Mrs. Rogers!” Steve didn’t look at you, but lovingly squeezed your hand that was resting against his, “We are quite the handful so I am surprised you couldn’t tell that she was my other half.” A snicker ended his words and you couldn’t help but do the same.

Once the short introductions were over, the doctor walked over to do a speedy final exam on what was necessary as Steve watched from the sidelines still getting used to the idea of not being the one doing the examination. He hadn’t been in any other position in the hospital for such a long time that it took some time to get used to the fact that he wasn’t the one diagnosing and rather waiting for the diagnosis.

The doctor pulled away from hovering over you and now sat back on his rolling leather stool, scooting his way over to the computer and desk.

“Well I must say, (y/n), that you definitely live up to some of the stories your husband tells.” The other man in the white coat finished up his typing before turning back around to face you and his colleague.

“Ah, I hope he’s giving me some good street cred,” You teased and from the side you saw Steve shaking his head and chuckling under his breath.

“I assure you that they were all good things.” With that, the doctor formally released you, walking out of the room to give you some time to redress and such.

You went to get out of the bed for the nth time, but finally succeeded. Your legs felt a bit wobbly upon the first step, and Steve noticed this. He came up to stand beside you and placed a hand on your lower back with the other out in front in case you did fall. Placing your own hand on his scrub clad chest to steady yourself, you silently thanked him with a tender pat.

With Steve’s guidance, you went to change out of the wretched paper gown and into your shorts and shirt from working outside. It wasn’t exactly the most flattering outfit but at this moment you could care less for the only thing on your mind was getting out of this room.

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The ride in the elevator seemed to move slower than a snail and almost stopped on every floor. You were so crammed by the time you were only on the fifth floor that you used this as an excuse to lean up against Steve. He rubbed your arm and enveloped you in a side hug and planted a kiss on your head. The two of you never cared for PDA but neither of you had realized the onlooking eyes.

You found it mildly comedic when some of your fellow passengers seemed disgusted that a doctor was handling a patient in such a way. It was definitely gonna be a joke for later on.

Eventually you made it to the first floor and begrudgingly pushed yourself out of Steve’s warm embrace when the smell of garlic bread hit your nose.

“Huh, they never cook spaghetti around here. They must know we have a special guest today.” Steve pressed his lips against your ear to jokingly whisper to you as he ushered you out the elevator doors.

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Standing in line with a plastic tray at the cafeteria made you have flashbacks to middle school lunch and you shuddered at the thought. The memories played back in your mind like a movie and were interrupted (much to your relief) when Steve tapped your shoulder.

“You want this?” Steve held one of the plastic salad containers in hand, the white sleeve of his lab coat draped on top of the other stacked bowls in the open air freezer.

You nodded and he placed it on your tray, slightly bumping your hips as he walked past to grab a drink.

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For a good twenty minutes, you and Steve sat in comfortable silence in one of the booths until clicking clogs came closer and closer. So close that a shadow loomed over your table conveying that someone was here to speak.

“Dr. Rogers, I don’t think it’s entirely wise of you to have lunch with your patient. Actually, it’s quite inappropriate.” The older woman in burgundy scrubs pointed her gaze to the hospital band on your wrist and both you and Steve started laughing upon noticing. So that explained all the weird looks.

“Oh no, Dr. Williams! This is my wife (y/n),” You politely beamed up at the woman and set out your hand for a handshake. At this, her unenthusiastic expression changed to one of apologetic and she shook your hand with much grief as Steve continued on with his introductions.

“(y/n), this is Dr. Williams. She is the medical director for my department.”

“Wow! I’ve heard many wonderful things about you, Dr. Williams.” She went to return the praise before a beeping in her coat pocket signaled the time for her departure.

“Duty calls, but I’ll have you know this one here never shuts up about you. It was nice to finally put a face to a name, (y/n),” You glanced at Steve and noticed he was sheepishly grinning and turning redder by the second. So much so that he was hiding his face in his palms.

““I hope you have a quick recovery as well, hon!” The standing woman gave you a nod of her head and then turned to your husband whose face had finally regained its color. “As for you Steven, I will see you later. You have another resident to deal with today.” Dr. Williams sighed at the thought, waving you both goodbye and soon enough she was out the double doors of the lunch room.

“Ooh babe you’ll have to tell me how all of that goes.” Spooning some spaghetti into your mouth, you goofily raised your eyebrows at Steve.

“Trust me, it is not fun at all. When I was a resident, I would have never acted like some of the people I’ve trained!”

You snorted, “Uh huh. Sureee.”

“No really,” Steve’s eyes widened and he leaned over the table like he was sharing some sort of secret with you, “The audacity of some of these people.”

“I think you are just an old man now, Stevie, and can’t keep up with the times.” The blond screwed up his eyes and stuck his tongue out at you.

“Oh hush and finish your food, Miss. ‘I am soooo young’.” A napkin flew at Steve’s chest and the two of you laughed at the childish antics that had just ensued.

Just as both of your styrofoam containers became empty, an unpleasant ringer sounded in Steve’s pocket, just like the one of Dr. Williams’s departure. Once he gave the screen a swift peek, he looked back up at you with a long face.

“You gotta go?” Golden strands bobbed up and down as Steve nodded and you grabbed his hand.

“It’s alright! Thank you for spending the time with me today, though. I really appreciate it. Thanks for putting up with me, you know how I am sometimes.”

The larger hand encompassing yours gave a sympathetic squeeze.

“Oh darling, anytime, you know that. If you need anything, call me okay? I will try my best to answer.”

The temporary silence that filled the room was now replaced by annoying buzzing from the device that Steve had silenced for the moment. He irritability took it out and shoved it back in his pocket. Normally this didn’t bother Steve because this was his job, but since you were here, having just been sick, he wanted nothing more than to drop everything and focus on you. Knowing that was impossible, he tried his best to juggle both yet it seemed that the world wasn’t gonna wait on him.

“Do you want me to call Ma to come get you? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Her and Dad love your company.” For the moment, Steve appeared to look like he was ignoring the constant beeping, but you knew internally he was already out of the cafeteria and sprinting down the halls.

“No no, I’m fine, honey,” The doctor stared at you as if he didn’t believe you. “I mean it, Steve. I am fine. Now shoo.”

Dr. Rogers shared another laugh with you before pecking your lips and running out the room shouting, “I’ll see you later!”

He really was too good for this world.

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a/n: i really enjoyed writing for doctor!steve, so if anyone has any ideas that involves him and that you’d like me to write, send it in! <3

taglist (is open!): @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @aubreeskailynn @calirindo @lady-elena-adeline @siriuslyslyslytherin @sushiinmidnight @patzammit @iwik3it

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers x y/n #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans characters #doctor steve rogers #doctor steve rogers x wife reader

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cathygeha · 6 years

Photo

Aiden Kingman is reunited with the woman he mistakenly wronged seven years ago...and this time around, he’s determined to make things right. Check out this first look for FIGHT FOR YOU by Nina Crespo, coming this July…

About FIGHT FOR YOU

In this second of the Kingman Brothers series, Aiden Kingman is reunited with the woman he mistakenly wronged seven years ago...and this time around, he’s determined to make things right. Seven years ago, Aiden Kingman had to choose between betraying Delanie Clark and her father or staying loyal to his father’s company. He chose his father—losing Delanie in the process—and he’s regretted it ever since. Now as CEO and partner in Kingman Partners International, he needs to finalize buying a retreat property, but there’s one major hold up: Delanie is the contract negotiator for the owner, and she doesn’t trust him. Delanie and her father lost everything when Aiden’s father lied about his intentions for buying her family’s mountain retreat. She swore that she would never have anything to do with Aiden Kingman again. But now she’s facing him across the negotiating table, and sparks that had previously been stamped out reignite between them. When tragedy places the deal on the line, will they put their history behind them? Or will the deal cost them both their second chance at love? Nina Crespo, author of the charming and sexy Forget You, is back with a sizzling romance that will have you believing in second chances, forgiveness, and learning to love despite the past.

On Sale in Digital: July 9, 2018

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Grand Prize: $15 Amazon Gift Card + (1) Digital Copy or Print Copy (if available) of any backlist Nina Crespo title + (1) one book from Nina's book collection from other authors.

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Read the first chapter from FIGHT FOR YOU:

Chapter One

Seven years ago

Delanie Clark stroked the dark wood footboard of the large sleigh bed in the bedroom of the rustic two-room mountain cabin at Clearmount Retreat. Should she greet Aiden Kingman wearing the lingerie set she’d picked out last week at the mall while thinking of him . . . or nothing at all?

She walked to the side of the bed and dropped her green backpack on top of the blue comforter. She’d let him discover her naked . . . in the hot tub. A smile she couldn’t stop bloomed on her face. That was the perfect place to wait for him and escape the chilly autumn night.

Finally, it was Friday. She’d hardly been able to concentrate during her classes at the University of Kentucky because he’d stayed on her mind. Since he’d called on Wednesday to tell her he was definitely flying in from Maryland for the weekend, the days had crept by at a snail’s pace and so had the five-hour drive earlier from Lexington. It seemed like an eternity since she’d last seen him, instead of just one week.

Delanie took off her brown hiking boots and socks, along with her tan wool sweater, jeans, and underwear. She stuffed her clothes into the pack, stowed everything in the closet behind her, then hurried into the corner bathroom for a towel. When she came back out, she dimmed the brass lamp on the bedside table.

Moonlight shining through the sliding glass door across from her gave the simply furnished room a romantic glow. The smell of the oak logs stacked inside the fireplace built into the wall near the foot of the bed lingered with the clean, earthy scent of the space.

While she was growing up and living on the retreat property, one of the jobs her father assigned to her had been filling the kindling boxes and stocking wood in the cabins. She used to imagine the guests enjoying warm drinks in front of their fireplaces, thoroughly mesmerized by the orange and amber flames curling and flickering over the logs.

Later on, she and Aiden would lie in bed, watching their own fire slowly burn to embers. For once, they could fall asleep in each other’s arms and wake up together in the morning, like a normal couple, and share breakfast. Her dad was on a fishing trip until late Sunday. For the first time, she wouldn’t have to sneak back down the trail into the family living quarters she shared with him before dawn. More importantly, Aiden’s concern about them seeing each other as a conflict of interest while he negotiated to buy Clearmount from her father no longer existed. The papers had been signed yesterday, selling the property to Aiden’s family company, TriRoyal Incorporated. They’d take over ownership of her dad’s thirty-acre retreat next month, and she and Aiden were finally free to share about their relationship.

Delanie hurried out the sliding door into the wood-framed, glass-enclosed deck and shut it behind her. Moonlight illuminated the steam rising from the sunken hot tub on the right. The mountains in the distance and the gently swaying trees surrounding her added to the peaceful ambiance.

She dropped the towel on the deck, twisted her long, dark hair into a loose topknot, then slipped into the rippling water. The stress from studying and agonizing over the economics exam she’d ultimately aced that afternoon melted away as she leaned back and closed her eyes.

Would Aiden have more of TriRoyal’s modernization plans to show her? What he’d shared so far was fantastic. Redwood-and-stone cottages would replace the well-used wood cabins that were currently on the property. Picture windows would provide views of the lake, trees, and mountains.

Delanie’s heart accelerated as she recalled Aiden sitting across from her a week ago in the hot tub, telling her about his plans. His slicked-back dark hair had emphasized the chiseled angles of his gorgeous face.

“Not only are we building larger decks on the cottages, we’re also installing bigger hot tubs.” He’d shot her a lazy grin. “You and I will definitely take advantage of them when we visit the new and improved Clearmount Retreat next fall.”

“I like that idea, a lot.” She hadn’t been able to stop herself from returning his smile. “But I wouldn’t mind if you took advantage of me now.”

“Come over here and I will.”

“Uh-uh.” She’d crooked her finger at him. “You come here.”

As he’d stood and approached her, water had trailed down his defined pecs and abs. The gleam in his hazel-brown eyes and the erection rising high on his abdomen had promised her one thing—earth-shattering orgasms.

“Are you mine?”

That’s what he’d asked her in bed later on as he’d kissed her along her left leg, from her toes to her inner thigh. He’d started all over again with her other leg. Each brush of his lips inching nearer to her sex had taunted and teased her.

“Answer me, Delanie.”

She’d tried to respond, but his tongue feathering over her clit and a back-arching climax had taken away her ability to form words. His length gliding slowly inside of her and pulling out at an equally tortuous pace had captivated her. With each successive, deep stroke that followed, yes not only became her answer but a plea for more pleasure. And Aiden had delivered.

Infused with the warmth of remembered bliss, Delanie sank deeper into the water. What they shared was . . . perfect.

But her dad would be surprised to hear she and Aiden were in a relationship, and that they were going to keep seeing each other. He’d asked her not to become serious with anyone until after she’d turned twenty-one. She’d only missed the mark by six months, and her father did like Aiden. At twenty-four, Aiden was already an acquisitions negotiator for his father’s company. He understood the importance of responsibility and would support her making college her main priority over him. It wasn’t like they were planning to get married or anything. Surely, her father would understand why she’d kept it a secret until now. She and Aiden had happily and unexpectedly fallen in love—and she hadn’t wanted that to disrupt his business dealings.

A man’s voice coming from inside the cabin, clearly on the phone, broke into her thoughts.

Aiden? Her heart drummed in her chest as she listened closely. No . . . not Aiden. Gerard Kingman. Shit!

Just as she shrank back into the shadows, a stream of light came from the bedroom. Aiden’s tall, black-haired father opened the sliding door and strode into the enclosure, talking on his cell.

“I don’t care what it takes. Just do it. No more delays.” Gerard unknotted the maroon tie from the collar of his white dress shirt and stuffed it in the pocket of the charcoal overcoat that melded perfectly with his dark suit. With his back turned to Delanie, he moved toward the stairs at the other end of the deck.

The temperature seemed to creep up with the warmth flushing into her cheeks. She couldn’t let him find her bare-ass naked in the tub. If he came closer, she could dunk herself under the water. She’d rather drown than have him discover her.

“I don’t give a damn if they mow down the place, cement over the lake, and build a parking lot on top of it as long as the papers are signed. Get it done.”

Mow down the place? Parking lot? What was he talking about?

She heard the front door slam shut.

“Dad, where are you?” Aiden’s bellow reverberated. The solid thunk of his shoes became louder when he entered the bedroom. Delanie watched him storm out onto the deck and advance on his father while she tried to shrink back into the shadows farther still. “What the fuck did you do?”

Gerard slipped his phone into his pocket. “That’s none of your concern.”

“None of my concern?” Aiden’s muscles bunched and released underneath his navy sweater and jeans. “You working a side negotiation with the outlet mall developers on my deal damn well qualifies as my concern.”

Side negotiation? No. They weren’t talking about Clearmount. They couldn’t be.

“First, you work for me, not the other way around.” Gerard’s tone grew implacable. “Second, this is about business and has nothing to do with whether or not you can bang the property owner’s daughter with a clear conscience.”

“Leave Delanie out of this.”

“I didn’t bring her into it.” Gerard pointed at Aiden. “You did. I must admit, it was a smart move getting Delanie on your side. She was a big influence in swaying Bryan Clark to come to the negotiating table. He signed the deal. We own the property. It’s mine to sell. The mall developers are happily going to pay my asking price.”

“Clearmount is my project.”

“That has nothing to do with it. Because of my decision, we made money. Everybody got what they wanted. That’s how it works.”

“It wasn’t your call. This was my acquisition.” Aiden raked back his hair with both hands. “I should have been the one handling negotiations, not you.”

Delanie’s heart thumped so hard it felt as if her breastbone would shatter. “No!” Water sloshed in her face as she surged forward in the tub and into the light. Disbelief made her tremble more than the cold as she crossed her arms, covering her chest. “You promised my father you would preserve Clearmount as a retreat. Aiden—you showed me the renovation plans.”

Gerard’s dismissive look replaced the heat in the water with a chill. He turned to Aiden, blatantly ignoring her. “We’re flying out to our property in Denver tonight. Productivity at the hotel there is low, complaints are high, and since no one else seems to be able to solve the problem, we’re going to fix it. You’re riding in the town car with me to the airport. You can make arrangements for the car company to pick up your rental before we take off. Hurry up and deal with her. We don’t have all night.” He strode into the cabin.

Delanie looked to Aiden. “What’s going on?”

He snagged the towel from the deck. “You’re shivering.”

She took Aiden’s hand and he pulled her out of the tub, but he didn’t meet her gaze.

Hot and cold prickles dripped down her spine with the water puddling at her feet. “Is it true?”

He tucked the towel around her. “Let’s go inside.”

“Answer me!” The force of the words burned her throat. “Did you sell Clearmount to outlet mall developers?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It was simple enough for you to fuck me so I’d vouch for you to my father.”

Aiden’s jawline angled as he gripped her shoulders. “It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it? Like your father said, you got what you wanted. Right?”

His silence filled in the gaps.

He’d used her. How could she have been so stupid? She’d fallen for him but he hadn’t loved her at all. Anger and hurt washed over Delanie. She wrenched out of Aiden’s grasp. “Get away from me. I never want to see you again.”

FIGHT FOR YOU by Nina Crespo releases on July 9, 2018 www.ninacrespo.com

Author Bio:

Nina Crespo lives in Florida where she indulges in her favorite passions—the beach, kickboxing, a good glass of wine, and dancing. Her lifelong addiction to romance began in her teens while on a “borrowing spree” in her older sister’s bedroom where she discovered her first romance novel. Curiosity about people and places, including what’s beyond the stars, fuels her writer’s imagination. Indulge in her sensual contemporary stories and steamy paranormal tales to feed your own addiction for love, romance, and happily ever after.

Need Nina? You can also visit her online at the following places:

http://www.barclaypublicity.com/

#Nina Crespo #Barclay Publicity #Romance

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