Good morning Mila," Brittany, a fellow nurse, greets me as she walks up to the nurse's station.

"Morning Brit," I respond with a smile while placing my purse on the counter. Looking at the clock on the wall, I notice I have ten minutes before my shift starts. "I'm going to run down to the cafeteria for some coffee. You want me to bring you back anything?"

"No thanks, I'm good," Brittany picks up her chart and turns to walk away. Abruptly stopping in her tracks, she whips around and snaps her fingers. "Shoot, I almost forgot. Kate wants to see you. She said to come to her office before starting your shift."

Kate is our supervisor. She's a 56-year-old mother of five. I couldn't ask for a better boss. She understands the challenges of having kids. Anytime one of us needs to leave early or take a day off to deal with our families; she is more than understanding.

I've wanted to be a nurse for as long as I can remember. My grandmother was a nurse. I remember watching the joy she had in taking care of others. I knew from a young age what my grandmother did was important, and she made a difference in people's lives.

That's what I wanted to do—Make a difference. My parents couldn't disagree more though. In their eyes what I chose to do with my life is menial. To say I'm a disappointment to them is an understatement. I was supposed to go to Harvard and follow in my parent's footsteps, or at the very least become a trophy wife. Being at your husband's beck and call and having Botox lunch dates with the wives of fellow firm partners is not my idea of a life.

My parents used to ship me off to my grandmother's every summer growing up. As soon as school was out, they put me on a plane to Montana. They didn't want to deal with having their child around. God forbid they spend time with their daughter. Every single summer that I can remember was spent with Grams. Then my parents were shocked when I turn out to be so much like her. If it weren't for my grandmother being in my life, I would have never known what it was like to be loved. My parents believed children should be seen and not heard. My grandmother believed children were gifts from God and should be cherished. The way my Grams loved me growing up has shown me how to be the mother I am today. My daughter Ava is everything to me, and I always make sure to show her how much she is loved. I never once thought a one-night stand would change my life forever.

When I found out at nineteen that I was pregnant, my parents said I had two options, abortion or adoption. I chose adoption. Only, in the end, I couldn't go through with it. My parents went to great lengths to hide me and my pregnancy. I was to have my baby, hand her over to the adoptive parents and then simply move on with the life they had mapped out for me as if nothing ever happened. I was in the hospital, hours away from having my baby girl when the adoption papers were shoved in my face. I stared down at those papers for an hour. My shaky hand held a pen to the signature line. I knew in my heart I would regret for the rest of my life the decision to give up my daughter. She was a part of me, and I was already in love with her. My mother noticed my hesitation and told me, "Sign those papers, or you'll be on your own, Mila. Your father and I will wash our hands of you." Two days later Ava and I were on a bus to Montana where Grams welcomed us with open arms. I had never felt happier than I did at that moment. That was four years ago, and I haven't spoken to my parents since.

My mother doesn't even care enough to check in on her mother. Grams has been battling Alzheimer's for a couple of years now, and six months ago, I had to come to the difficult decision of placing her in a nursing home. Realizing I could no longer care for her by myself was one of the hardest days of my life. When Grams got the diagnosis, she made me promise not to burden myself with taking care of her. I told her I would never make that promise. When the time came to pick a nursing home for her, I chose the best facility we had in our area. Insurance pays for some, but I'm still left with a hefty sum each month, which is why I'm always snagging all the overtime I can. Grams deserves the best, no matter the cost.

With my thoughts of grabbing a coffee before my shift placed on the back burner, I head in the direction of Kate's office. Knocking, I wait for her permission to enter. "Come in," she calls out. Opening the door, I see my boss typing away on her computer. "You wanted to see me?" I ask.

Taking her eyes off the screen, Kate slips her glasses off placing them on the desk in front of her. "I did. Please come in, Mila and have a seat."

Walking in I shut the door behind me, "Is everything okay?" I ask sitting down in the chair in front of her desk.

She sighs, "I'm afraid not. I hate to do this, but the hospital is making cutbacks, and unfortunately, nursing is the first to suffer. I'm being forced to let two nurses go. You were one of the last hired so, in turn, one of the first I have to part with. I'm sorry, Mila. I hope you know that."

Shit!

What am I going to do? I was not expecting this when I came in this morning. Rubbing my sweaty palms on my leg, I nod. "I understand, Kate. I know it's not your fault. Will you at least call me if I'm able to come back? I like working here."

"I think I have something you might be interested in," she says fumbling through the charts on her desk. Finding the one she was looking for, Kate hands it to me. Reaching across her desk, I take the offered file with a confused look.

"When I was handed this case this morning, I immediately thought of you. I know you took an In-Home Care course after your grandmother's diagnosis, so you are perfectly qualified for this job. The patient needs home care. He was involved in an accident about a month ago where he had been hit by a car."

My head snaps up with her description 'hit by a car.' Is it him? Looking down at the folder in my lap, I flip it open. Patient name—Reid Carter. My mouth goes dry at the sight of his name. I've only been around Reid a handful of times. All the Kings men make me a little nervous. They are not only ruthless, but sweet, caring and let's not forget utterly gorgeous. Especially the one in question. Reid stands at least six-foot-two, broad chest and shoulders. One of his arms is covered in colorful tattoos and a few peek out from the collar of his shirts running up his neck. He also has hair the color of honey, and green eyes that cause my heart to flutter whenever he looks my way. The times I've ever been around him, he was mostly quiet. Always offering a quick greeting, but no real conversation. I don't take offense to it though. I get the feeling he's more of an observer. He likes to study people.

As I scan Reid's chart, I listen to Kate discuss his injuries. Spinal swelling and a broken arm. "The patient has lost partial mobility in his left leg due to swelling pressing on the spinal nerves. He'll be doing physical therapy two to three days a week to start. You will need to take him to his sessions. He's not able to drive himself yet."

"What about his right leg? You said he lost mobility in his left leg. Does he have full function on the right?" I ask Kate.

Shaking her head, Kate replies, "The patient had an amputation of the right leg just below the knee from a previous accident. His doctor says Mr. Carter has been experiencing some tingling on that side, but can't move it. Being that he wears a prosthesis, his therapy will be a bit more challenging."

I'm shocked. I had no idea Reid wore a prosthetic. Bella and Alba never mentioned it. Then again, why would they? They would have no reason to. Kate calling my name draws my attention back to her. "There is something else you should know if you decide to take on this job."

I give her my full attention, "What?"

"Mila, the job is full-time, meaning it's live-in. Mr. Carter will require 24-hour care." I'm just about to protest when Kate jumps in. "I know you have your daughter, but at least go meet with Mr. Carter. Maybe you both can come up with an arrangement that will suit you both."

"Kate, it's just Ava and me. I don't have anyone I can depend on to help with my daughter. She's at preschool during the day, but I don't think anyone would take on a live-in nurse that comes with a child. I wouldn't ask them to."

"Would you be willing to meet with Mr. Carter, see if you two will be a good fit? If nothing else, I'll see about having another nurse stay during the night. But it might be a few weeks before I find someone. Are you okay with that?"

With a shaky breath I accept, "Yes, I'll give it a try." At this point I don’t have a choice, I need the job.

"Great. Mr. Carter's address is in his file. Be there first thing in the morning."

Nodding my head in agreement, I stand up from my seat and head towards the door. Just as I'm about to reach for the knob, I turn back to Kate, "Has Reid—I mean Mr. Carter been told who his nurse will be?" I ask.

"No. Since I was just given the case this morning, I haven't had a chance to call and talk to him. But he is expecting you tomorrow morning."

"Okay. Thanks, Kate. I'll get in touch with you tomorrow after I meet with him." She smiles, and I leave her office.

Once the door shuts, I take three steps before I stop, lean my back against the wall and hug Reid's file to my chest as I take a deep breath. "This is not a big deal, Mila. You can do this. He's just another patient." I say to myself. A freaking hot as hell patient who happens to be a member of The Kings. I have a feeling I'm going to be in way over my head.

After stopping back by the nurse's station to pick up my purse and give Brittany the rundown of what just happened, I decided to spend the day with Grams.

When I walk into her room, Joni, her day nurse gives me a warm smile.

"Well, what a nice surprise! We don't usually see you here so early. How you doin', sweetheart?" She asks, hugging me. I adore Joni. She's in her late 50's and has a warm vibe. Every time I see her she greets me with a smile and a hug.

"I'm off work today, so I thought I'd come sit with Grams for a little while. How is she doing today?"

She pats my arm, "She's okay. Been sleeping most of the morning. We had a bit of a rough night, so she's probably going to be out awhile." I don't have to ask. I know what Joni means by rough night. Grams would wake up in the middle of the night calling and frantically looking for Grandpa. Having to tell her each time that Gramps was gone was heartbreaking. We lost Grandpa ten years ago to a heart attack. Now, every time Grandma has an episode it's like losing him all over again.

Sighing, I look over at my grandmother's fragile frame sleeping soundly in her bed. I hate that the woman who has been like a mother to me, the woman who has molded me into the mother I am has to suffer from such a horrible disease. And there is not a damn thing I can do about it.

"I'm just going to sit with her if that's okay," I say to Joni.

"Of course, sweetheart. I'll be back in a bit to check on her," She tells me as she slips out of the room.

Making my way over to the chair beside Grams' bed, I scoot it closer before sitting down. Reaching out, I place my hand on hers and watch the rise and fall of her chest. "I miss you so much, Grandma," I say laying my head down next to her.

* * *

The next morning I'm running around the house trying to get ready and wrangle Ava out the door. I overslept. Which is something I never do. I don't want to look unprofessional on my first day of a new job. I don't want Reid to have a bad impression of me. I take my career very seriously.

"Ava!" I holler down the hallway, "It's time to go sweet girl." Hearing my little girl giggle as she runs down the hall with her blonde curls bouncing makes me smile.

"I'm ready Momma," She announces looking up at me with her big blue eyes. My baby looks nothing like me. I have a pale complexion, long, straight black hair, and light brownish-yellow almond-shaped eyes. People tell me all the time my eyes remind them of a cat's eyes. Ava has sun-kissed skin, beautiful blonde curly hair, and big blue eyes. Just like her father.

My daughter has a bubbly personality and no filter. She usually says exactly what's on her mind, whereas I tend to keep my thoughts to myself. I suppose it's something I learned as a child. I was taught at a young age my parents had no tolerance for my opinions. What I thought or wanted didn't matter. That is why I embrace Ava's boldness. I want her always to speak her mind, to always say what she is thinking and what she's feeling.

I remember the first summer I spent with Grams. I hardly spoke. She would try to engage me in conversation, and I would give my standard one-word answers. At six years old, my grandmother sat me down and explained to me that when I was with her, I was allowed to speak freely, that she wanted to know everything. What my favorite TV show was, what I like to do for fun, how did I like school. Grams wanted to know it all.

When I got older, she confided in me, telling me how much it pained her that my mom had changed so much after meeting my father. It hadn't taken long before my mother began acting as if she was too good to be associated with her own family and where she grew up. Grams said it was because of me she tried to keep the peace with my mother. She knew if she didn't put up with my mother and father she would never see me. Although, I think it was the other way around. I believe my parents kept a small relationship with Grams so they had somewhere to dump me when they didn't want me around. I would never let on how much I loved coming to Montana. I was always worried they would see how happy I was and snatch it away from me.

A tug on my shirt tail brings me out of my thoughts.

"Momma, your face looks funny."

Looking down at Ava, I stick my tongue out at her. "Your face looks funny." Ruffling the hair on top of her head, I tip my head in the direction of the door. "Come on silly girl, let's go before we're late."

Thirty minutes later after dropping Ava off at preschool. I find myself at the address in Reid's file. Confused, I look out my window at the building in front of me and then back down at the address in the file. Yep, this is the right place. What's confusing is it's not a house or an apartment. Currently, I'm parked in front of an old firehouse with two large roll-up doors, typical for a fire station, and on the side of the building is a set of stairs leading to a metal door. I guess I'll take my chances with the side entrance.

Stepping out of my car, I sling my purse over my shoulder before shutting my door. I don't bother locking it. My car is a rusted piece of crap and is on its last leg. Even though this part of town looks a little sketchy, I don't worry about anyone wanting to steal it. Besides, if everyone knows who lives here, then I'm sure they would not have the balls to mess around the home of a local MC member.

When I reach the top of the stairs, I look up to my right and notice a camera pointed directly at me. I've heard Bella mention Reid is a techie, so I'm pretty sure I'm in the right place. He probably has cameras all over the place. Pressing the buzzer next to the door, I wait. It takes five more times of ringing the doorbell before the door is pulled open and I'm face to face with a very gorgeous, and very pissed off looking Reid.

"What the hell do you want?" He sneers.