Breathe Deep

Page

Breathe Deep

ISBN # 978-1-78430-696-0

©Copyright Willa Okati 2015

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright July 2015

Edited by Rebecca Douglas

Pride Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2015 by Pride Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

Pride Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

St. Hawk’s Medical

BREATHE DEEP

Willa Okati

Book three in the St. Hawk’s Medical series

A golden-hearted mountain man. A nursing tech with a secret. Life and death are on the line—and they’re running out of time.

Shepherd knows what people think of him. He’s too big, too tall and too broad not to be scary. But though he looks like a grizzly bear, he’s all teddy on the inside. He’s dreamed of finding someone to love. Someone who can help him break through his shyness and who he can shower with all the affection in his heart.

Kit knows what people think of him. That he’s young, good-looking and kissed by luck. He survived leukemia as a teenager, and he thought he had his entire life ahead of him. But now, the cancer might be recurring—deny it though he might—and Kit’s world has come crashing down. He needs someone like Shepherd. Someone kind and caring, who’s strong enough to lean on.

Kit’s falling fast for the big mountain man—but he hasn’t told Shepherd the truth. He’s afraid that knowing he may be sick will be more than Shepherd can handle. And now, after delaying treatment, he thinks he may be running out of time.

Secrets can be life or death—and when it comes to telling the truth, they can make all the difference.

Dedication

For D.K. and M.Z., with thanks.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Harley: Harley-Davidson Inc.

Jell-O: Kraft Foods

Ensure: Abbot Laboratories

Ducati: Ducati Motor Holding S.p.A

Google: Google, Inc.

Winnie: Winnie the Pooh, A.A. Milne/The Walt Disney Company

Birkenstocks: Birkenstock Orthopädie GmbH & Co. KG

Advil: Pfizer

Kit Kat: Nestlé S.A.

Disney: The Walt Disney Company

Tylenol: Johnson & Johnson

Scotchgard: 3M

Prologue

Kit closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Calm down. It’s probably nothing. You’re okay.

Trouble was, Kit wasn’t sure he believed himself.

He opened his eyes and looked down at his hands—long fingers, narrow wrists and all the lines on his palms. The lifeline that stretched clear from one side of his hand to the other, unbroken. It’d be tempting to believe in that, but…

But.

Kit knew better. When he was fifteen, he’d been given less than a year to live. Acute lymphoblastic leukemia. Before he’d gotten the diagnosis, he’d been sure he was dying. Unrelenting aches in his joints, his bones. Sticky nosebleeds. The taste of copper always in his mouth from inflammation. He remembered that so well.

Well enough to recognize it when he felt it now. Over the past week. Starting slow—waking with sore knees and elbows, then his hips. He knew the stats for relapse. Used to recite them to himself, keeping a careful eye out, before he’d gotten busy working on his degree, his life.

There was so much he’d meant to do. God. But it all took time, and—

Kit ground his knuckles against his forehead. It’s happening again.

Or was it?

Could just be a cold. A nasty flu bug. Early onset of arthritis, for Pete’s sake. Anyone who worked in health care carried more germs than postmen did letters to Santa in December.

So stop worrying, all right? Kit told himself, setting his jaw and tucking both hands under his arms so he wouldn’t have to look at them. He’d gotten a probable death sentence before he knew how to drive, but there he was, still going at twenty-four. Just because a thing might be, didn’t mean it would be. He’d had to take a fifteen-minute break from his shift when panic had threatened to get the better of him, and he’d already wasted five of those minutes finding a safe spot on the side of St. Hawk’s. Five more to tuck himself into a doorway unseen, unheard, and calm down.

But it’d been worth it. He was better now. Would be. Kit looked up, still careful with his breathing, and focused on the street. There was such a lot of life to look at, bright and colorful. Good for distractions, and though he’d rather be down with the party, he’d always liked people-watching, too. He tucked his chin on his hand and grinned at a mother leading two children with ice cream cones in their sticky paws, an elderly woman he recognized as a former patient, proudly wearing purple and—over there, on a strip of sidewalk between two alleys—a great big grizzly bear of a man on his hands and knees in an clump of azalea bushes.

Wait. What?

It was so absurd that Kit had to blink and take a second look. He hadn’t been mistaken. He stifled a laugh, because he wasn’t cruel—he tried not to be—but come on. The man crawled through those bushes like a soldier training for hardcore guerilla warfare, lifting what seemed like every fallen leaf.

What the hell is he doing? Kit craned his neck, and— Oh. Directly behind the man and the bushes, a sturdily built mountain bike had been propped against the wall, a toolbox kicked on one side next to it. He must have stopped for a repair, and lost the one nut or screw he needed to keep going.

Kit knew the feeling. He checked his watch and decided he had time to lend a hand. It wasn’t climb Kilimanjaro or swim in the Bahamas but help a biker wasn’t a bad entry on the life list.

The burly bear didn’t notice Kit as he approached. Too intent on his search. Kit whistled silently when he came close enough to gauge just how sizable the guy was.

He’d seen big men before. Darry, a nurse at St. Hawk’s, stood six foot three inches and looked like the former football player he was. This guy? Whew. Taller and wider. Bulkier, too, a great big wall of a man with a lush beard down to his collarbones, and a scowl that would have scared children—and almost made Kit take a step back.

Only almost. He wasn’t scared of the big bad wolf.

Besides, Kit had good eyes. He toed at what he thought at first might be a dime, but on second glance proved to be a flat washer. Aha. Picking it up, he held it out to the man on his eye level. This what you were looking for?

The man growled as he knelt up, but Kit didn’t think it was at him. Hoped not, anyway, and was pleased to be proven right when the growl faded to a sigh and the man closed his hand around the washer. Yes, he said, his voice deep but low, almost a seismic sort of a rumble. Thank you.

Always the way, Kit said.

Isn’t it just? The last place you would have thought to look, the man said. I’d have hated to leave it still broken for a day.

Kit eyed the bike. He didn’t know much about them beyond the basics of pedaling, but this one looked classy. She’s a beauty.

She’ll do. She’s no Harley—been years since I owned one of those—but I like her. When he smiled at Kit, rueful and abashed, the good soul of him shone through that broad, stern face. I’m Shepherd.

Washer safe in his left hand, the big biker offered his right. It engulfed Kit’s. Looking down at that, Shepherd made a small noise that Kit couldn’t interpret.

But that he liked. Oh, he liked it very much. He’d always had a thing for big men—the broadness of their chests, the thick muscles in their legs. The kind of man he’d hoped he’d meet someday. Someday, though. When he’d finished his degree. When he’d bought a house, and a car, and maybe even a dog. After he’d gone adventuring and come home again.

Kit, he said, disappointed and oddly breathless when Shepherd let go.

To meet a man like this now, when he didn’t have the time for—him. This. Damn it.

Shepherd frowned at Kit. More of his thoughts must have shown on his face than he’d intended. Are you okay?

Me? Kit brushed that off too brightly, but once spoken, words couldn’t be taken back. He laughed, and that sounded out of tune as well. Ugh. Better cut his losses. I’m fine. Just—in a hurry. I’ve got to get back.

A shame. He would have liked to stay.

Still. He’d find someone else like Shepherd down the road. He’d have the time.

Take care, all right? he said, turning to go. He’d have to use the walk back to his floor to settle down, but he could manage that. Always would.

Shepherd didn’t argue the point, but called after him, What do you do?

Kit grinned back over one shoulder—proud, because he had accomplished this one goal, and it helped pay for him to reach for the next—and he loved his job. Good at it, too. All things were possible. I’m a nurse tech!

Chapter One

Tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap.

Kit made a frustrated sound as he stilled his hand. The tip of his pen would puncture clean through the paper if he wasn’t careful, and he didn’t want to start from scratch. Five more minutes of notes for the resident to sign off on, and he’d be out of there for a full weekend. Nothing difficult.

Truth be told, he should have finished them half an hour ago.

He shook his head and focused on the paper in front of him. If he wanted to keep paying tuition and get his bachelor’s—maybe even a master’s