It was the last time I saw him.
The last time he looked at me with the same resentment.
Either he doesn’t realize how hard his insult hit me or he doesn’t care.
I snort, anger biting at me. “What do you think I’m going to do, huh? Kidnap him?”
“Considering who you’re related to, who knows?”
“Wow.” I clench my fists to hold myself back from smacking him in the face since his words are like a slap in mine. “You have some nerve.”
It’d make for some bad headlines if a doctor slapped a patient’s father.
There’s no apology on his face when he holds up his hands. “Just saying it how I see it.”
“Then allow me to say it how I see it.” I thrust my finger toward the door. “You have a sick son in there, and it’s my job to treat him. Don’t like it? I don’t give a shit.” I shove past him, stalk out of the room, and don’t check to see if he’s following me.
“Everything okay?” Lauren asks, her eyes glancing over my shoulder, and I realize Cohen is behind me, still keeping his distance.
“Peachy,” I chirp before approaching the bed and smiling down at the boy. “What’s your name, honey?”
“Noah,” he croaks.
Even though I was sure it was him, my head spins at his confirmation.
I tenderly squeeze his arm, and my tone turns cheerful. “Hi, Noah. I’m Dr. Gentry. Can I ask some questions about how you’re feeling?”
He nods.
Cohen stalks to the other side of the bed, his eyes on me, and Lauren migrates to the corner, her nosy ass interested in this shitshow.
“He has a fever,” Cohen tells me, his tone softer.
“For how long?”
He scratches his scruffy cheek. “Over twenty-four hours.”
“Appetite?”
He shakes his head. “Not even sugar. I can hardly get him to drink, and he has no energy, which is very rare for him.”
“Cough?”
“Yes.”
His jerk attitude settles while we turn our attention to Noah. I ask question after question as I take his temperature and go through all the motions.
“Symptoms tell me it’s the flu,” I say, removing my gloves and tossing them into the trash. “We’ll do a test, and I also want to run some blood work to make sure we’re not missing anything.”
Cohen nods. “Thank you.”
I smile at Noah. “We’ll get you back to feeling good in no time.” I give Lauren, who’s gathering supplies for the test, a head nod and leave the room.
I‘ll definitely be pairing wine with those Thin Mints tonight.
Lauren comes scurrying into the doctors’ lounge ten minutes later. “Whoa, what was that about? Dude was super nice to me but acted as if you’d pissed in his Cheerios.”
Here goes.
A chill sweeps up my neck. “That’s my sister’s ex … and her son … the ones she left.”
“Oh, Jerry Springer.”
2
Cohen
Out of all the doctors, it had to be her.
Jamie fucking Gentry.
Heather’s younger sister.
A woman I demanded stay the fuck away from Noah and me.
I moved two towns over from Mayview to Anchor Ridge, Iowa, to prevent this shit from happening.
The last time I saw her was a few days after Noah was born. That was five years ago, and even though she’s changed, there was no disputing it was her when she walked in. The moment our eyes met, I jumped to my feet, dread spilling over every rational thought in my head.
She can’t see him.
She can’t know him.
Anger shook through me as we stared at each other. Her eyes—so similar to the woman’s I despised—only pissed me off more.
Noah is sleeping, and my back straightens in my chair at the sound of a tap on the door. I slump in relief when it’s my younger sister, Georgia, coming into view and not Jamie.
Hopefully, Jamie listened and won’t come back.
“I came as soon as I left work,” Georgia says, collapsing in the chair next to me.
I shoot her a stressed smile. “Thanks.”
She bites into her lower lip, her gaze sweeping from one side of the room to the other, and taps her foot. “This might sound super random, but did you know that Heather’s sister is here?”
“Yep.” I stretch out my legs. “She’s Noah’s doctor.”
“Wow.” She whistles. “Awkward.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I wish I had been here at that first exchange.”
I drop my head back, hoping to release the tension in my neck. “I nearly had a heart attack when she walked in.”
I’m positive she felt the same.
Jamie’s face revealed every thought running through her head.
Shock, hurt, anger.
The same shit her sister made me feel.
“Did you ask for another doctor?”
“She’s the only doctor here tonight.”
She lowers her voice. “Does Noah know who she is?”
“No, and it’d better stay that way.” I move my neck from side to side before standing. “Can you keep an eye on him while I grab a quick coffee from the waiting room?”
“No, there’s no way I can handle him,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “He’s acting like an animal. Too much energy.”
I ruffle my hand through her hair, and she smacks it away.
“Fucking smart-ass.”
“Grab me a coffee too. Please and thank you.”
I pour our coffees and almost make it back to Noah’s room Jamie-free, but she steps in front of me before I do.
Determination is set on her too-pretty face, and she crosses her arms. As much as I’d love to tell her to fuck off, I can’t. The nurse’s eyes are glued to us like we’re her favorite soap opera.
There sure is enough drama for us to be one.
“Cohen, we need to talk,” Jamie says.
I match her stance, folding my arms across my chest, and grip the coffees tight in each hand while adding a scowl to one-up her. “If it’s not about Noah, I have nothing to say to you.”
She stretches out her hand and separates her fingers. “Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking for, and it is about Noah.”
“Three minutes.” I’m not doing shit on her terms.
She throws her arms up before collapsing them to her sides. “Fine, three minutes.”
I trail her when she starts walking, and the nurse smirks when we pass her. We’re back in the room she dragged me into earlier, and she shuts the door behind us. I can’t stop myself from chuckling when she stands in the doorway, crossing her arms again as if she’s geared to stop me from leaving.
As if she makes the fucking rules.
Her thick honey-brown hair is longer than it was so many years ago and swept back into a ponytail, a few curly strands loose around her face. She’s wearing blue scrubs—even though they shouldn’t look hot, they do on her—and a white jacket, the words Dr. Jamie Gentry, MD, Emergency Medicine embroidered on it in red stitching.
She’s gorgeous—even with the similarities between her and Heather. Prettier—because she doesn’t have a black fucking heart. Long gone is her geeky phase. Now replaced with a beautiful, confident woman, and by the look on her face, she is about to be a pain in my fucking ass.