Doctor One of a Kind

By Anjelica Grace

Cooper

Fate is a funny thing.

A chance meeting on a flight home.

Who knew a single mom and her darling little girl could burrow so deep into my soul?

They're there and refuse to leave…but I screwed up.

I didn't get their number and they walked out as quickly as they came.

That's where fate comes into play. Lilah Emerson and her little girl show up in my ER.

The universe is setting things right so I can make my move.

However, it's never that simple.

Especially when you're dealing with a fiercely independent, stubborn woman with a rocky past.

She has so much more to live for than dating and men, but I'll show her I'm worth it.

 

Lilah

The universe has a crazy way of making things work.

The man who entertained my daughter on a late-night flight saved my sanity.

How ironic the same man charges in like a knight on one of the worst days of our lives.

He's kind, patient, and strong. I couldn't survive this without him.

But I've got trust issues.

He's determined not to squander his self-proclaimed second chance.

I don't know if it's possible. I don't know if he can handle me and my daughter.

But he might, he is one of a kind, after all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anjelica Grace
• Release date: Jun 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201877118

Book preview

Prologue

Lilah

Kenz, I sigh, dragging our carry-ons and guiding her to our seats. My back is aching, my head hurts, and my body is craving a week’s worth of sleep I’m not sure I’ll ever get. We’ve been traveling for what feels like an eternity, and this huge, empty three seat per side plane looks more like a closed, suffocating tube than the giant Boeing 737 it is. We can’t sit up here; we have to walk back to our row.

She lets out a huff. But I want to sit hewe, Mommy.

I wish, baby.

I guide her small body with a nudge toward the economy class. We keep going until we come to our row. Here we are, baby. Scootch all the way over to the window.

She looks up at me with heavy eyes, then shakes her head as she reaches up for me to hold her.

Mackenzie, I begin to say with irritation, then stop myself, and take a deep breath. I know she’s just as tired, if not more so, than I am. She just wants to be loved and feel supported. Baby, I can’t hold you right now. You have to sit in your big girl seat by the window. I nod her toward the far seat and follow her in, shoving both our backpacks under the seats in front of ours.

I sit with you, she whines, then crosses her tiny arms over her chest with tears pooling in her eyes.

You can sit with me until the nice lady we talked to at the front of the plane says it’s time to buckle up, okay?

She nods her head and waits for me to get situated before she climbs into my lap.

We’ve spent the last three days across the country laying her grandfather to rest, and now we’re just trying to get back to Eastport. Flight delays, mechanical issues, and a three-hour cab ride later, we’ve been traveling for going on nine hours already.

I cradle her small body to me and press a kiss to her head. She’s been a trooper today, but our patience is wearing thin. My shoulders are tight, knotted beyond anything I’ve ever felt, from the weight of laying my dad to rest while navigating the choppy waters caused by the rest of my family—my mom, sister, and niece—who I haven’t spoken to since before Mackenzie was born.

We sit silently while other passengers file in and take the seats all around us. I say a silent prayer that the last seat in our row stays empty. It’ll make it easier on me. I’ll slide over and Mackenzie can play with her stuffed animals and baby dolls on both seats and maybe feel less confined.

After a few quiet minutes, I look up toward the front of the plane, recognizing immediately that there are only a couple people still walking up the aisle, otherwise the plane is full. A slow, steady breath billows out of my lungs, until a deep, smooth voice interrupts my relief, I think this is me.

The hair on my arms stands on end, and the second a subtle, foresty scent hits me, my breath catches in my chest.

I chance a peek up at the stranger who is claiming to be our seatmate. The man is tall, and dressed in a pair of dark denim jeans and a Colorado Explosion hoodie. His dark hair is styled in an intentionally mussed-up manner, and his rich brown eyes dance with kindness.

I have to work hard not to allow my tongue to roll out of my mouth.

Let me, uh, let me move the strap from our bags so you have more leg room, I mutter nervously. My voice causes Mackenzie’s head to raise from my chest, and she peers up at the handsome stranger who is lowering himself to sit beside us.

Hi! Her smile spreads over her face, and she waves a hand.

Well, hello, he states back, adjusting himself in the seat and pulling his belt over his lap, gracing my beaming four-year-old with a smile of his own. My name is Cooper. I’m going to sit beside you and your sister for the flight.

Mackenzie’s face scrunches up in confusion, and mine mimics hers instantly, before I school my reaction and steady my breathing.

My gaze shifts toward him as I respond, I’m definitely not her sister.

She my mommy, Mackenzie says so matter-of-factly all tension from his poor attempt at a line snaps between Cooper and I.

We both laugh, and he holds up his hands. My apologies, ladies.

I appreciate the compliment, I admit, and allow my guard to drop enough to relax and smile. I’m Lilah, this is Mackenzie.

It’s nice to meet you both, he replies. I think this may be the best company I’ve had all day. He graces my little girl with a heart-stopping wink.

Lucky little girl.

Before I can respond, the overhead speaker system engages and the flight attendants start their pre-flight routines. I slide Mackenzie off my lap and into her own seat, buckling her in, and hushing her protests.

Cooper chuckles to himself, in response to my daughter I’m sure, and pulls his phone from his pocket. I try not to stare at him, or to focus on his big, strong hands, subtle cologne, or the warmth radiating off his shoulder lightly pressed against mine.

There are much worse ways to spend the final flight during a twelve-hour travel day.

Chapter 1

Lilah

Tell me again why you didn’t ask for his number, Stella says over her piping hot cup of coffee.

Because, I drag out, blowing over my own cup, after a two-and-a-half-hour flight, where my child was all over his lap, hanging on him, and using him as her self-soothing mechanism, it felt… wrong.

I take a sip of my own drink, hoping to not scald my tongue, and think back on our flight two weeks ago. Cooper was kind; first he suggested Mackenzie sit in the middle. I think he took pity on me when she spilled her water all over my lap. Then, he let Mackenzie climb all over him, lay her head on his chest while she sat in his lap, play with his hands, and even humored her and played with her babies. The tall, muscular man played with baby dolls, on an airplane, with my little girl.

How does a man get any better?

"How did it feel wrong? Stella asks, breaking through my memories and bringing me back to my box-sized kitchen. He sounds perfect. And you said he wasn’t wearing a ring."

I think about her question, and shrug. "It just did. Would you ask your babysitter for his number in that way?"

If he looked like the airplane guy, made me tingle, and got along with my child like he did Kenz? Hell yes, I would.

Easy for you to say, I bristle, you’re married.

It’s called a hall pass, Liles. Tanner and I are in agreement on these things. Stella’s head drops back and laughter bellows out in my kitchen. She and Tanner, her husband, are the happiest couple I’ve ever met. They actually make me queasy they’re so sweet. And if I weren’t married, she continues, I definitely would’ve considered calling him.

I let out a chuckle and shake my head. I don’t know, Stell. He was taken by my daughter, not me. She had him wrapped around her little pint-sized fingers.

I glance into the living room where Mackenzie is lying on the couch, sleeping with Paw Patrol playing quietly on the television. From here, I can see her red cheeks, and little hands clasped—as if she were in prayer—beneath her chin.

Believe me, Lilah, he was taken by you too. You’re a bombshell.

Nobody in their right mind would think that of me. Certainly not a man like Cooper. I’m plain, heavier than I should be, my clothes are secondhand and nearly a full size too big. I’m nothing special. I never have been. That’s why men never stick around. I’m just an ordinary woman, trying to be the best mom I can be to my extraordinary little girl.

I snort at the prospect of him seeing me as a bombshell, with the final thoughts of how I must’ve looked to him roll through my memory. Right. I was covered in drink stains, with dark bags under my eyes, and the world’s messiest bun. Let’s not forget the unflattering, old yoga pants and baggy sweatshirt, either.

Like I said, bombshell. Stella winks at me, then looks over at Mackenzie. How’s she feeling?

She seemed to be doing better yesterday, but woke up with another fever today. Just as high. I’ve called her doctor, but she said there’s a bug going around. It’ll run its course and Kenz’ll be good as new. I close my eyes and roll my head from shoulder to shoulder.

Have you slept any?

Eh, here and there. I sigh, and rub my neck slowly, hoping to work the tight knot from sitting up in the rocker beside Mackenzie’s bed all night long. I’m worried, Stell. I’ve never seen her this way. I keep saying if her fever gets any higher, or anything else pops up, I’ll take her in. Then things start to get better, before getting bad again, but never exceeding the benchmark I’ve set to really panic. I don’t want to expose her to even more at the doctor’s office or hospital, but I don’t want to wait too long and harm her.

Just follow your gut, babe. Stella rubs my shoulder. You’ve got the same intuition all moms do, when it’s time to act, you will.

Her words do little to ease my growing fear. I wasn’t close to my dad, but knowing he passed due to an illness that could’ve been treated nags at the back of my mind, teasing and taunting me. What if I don’t take my baby in and she dies too? It’s already just the two of us; there’s nobody else in our life, apart from Stella. She’s family by choice, but she has a big family of her own she has to prioritize and care for. She has a family there to offer her advice, support, and help.

We don’t.

If I lost my little girl, I would have nobody, and be nothing. My life would cease to exist.

Maybe I’ll just call in to the nurses’ line real fast again. Make sure they still don’t think I should take her in. I meet Stella’s gaze. She’s looking back at me with kind eyes, and a slight, encouraging smile.

I’ll keep an eye on our sleeping beauty while you call, then I’ll head home.

Thanks, Stell. I lean in and give her a quick hug, then grab my cell phone off the counter and call the all-hours nurses’ line at Mackenzie’s pediatrician’s office.

After ten minutes, a rundown of all of Mackenzie’s symptoms, and reassurance from Nurse Kendra, I return to Stella and Mackenzie in the living room. We are to keep hydrating, resting, and taking it easy until whatever this is passes.

Do you feel any better? Stella asks, pulling me into a hug. If not, I can stay longer.

No, no, I try to assure her, I’m fine. They keep saying it is just a bug, it will pass. I have to trust that.

Stella withdraws from the hug, and gives me a gentle smile. She’ll be okay. So will you. Why don’t you try to rest while she is? A little sleep will do you good. You look exhausted.

I really am, I admit. Thank you for coming by, Stell. I appreciate you so much.

I love you too, Stella says in a singsong voice. Sleep this afternoon, then text me later. I’m here if you need anything.

I know you are. Thank you. Drive safe.

Stella gives me a final smile, then heads out, pulling the door closed behind her with a soft click.

Mackenzie is exhibiting the symptoms we are seeing with all of our patients right now. There is a virus going around. She will be back to her normal self in just a few days.

I don’t like it. I don’t trust that this is nothing, but I haven’t slept in what feels like an eternity. I can’t trust myself to think logically, rather than emotionally. Rational thinking may have already gone out the window where I’m concerned. The doctors and their team are telling me my kid is just experiencing an ordinary virus. I have to trust them.

I double-check the door, making sure it is in fact locked, then grab a water, and make my way to the recliner next to the couch. I kick back and give Mackenzie a quick glance, ensuring she’s sleeping and watching the rise and fall of her chest that tells me she’s