“What’s that supposed to mean?” Andi narrowed her eyes.
“I’m jealous of the way you can stomp over other people in your relentless drive to the top and not give it a second thought.”
“Stop it,” Andi snapped.
“Stop what?”
“Being nice. I’m trying to insult you, Walker.”
Jazzy smiled. “I know and you’re great at that too.”
“You’re at it again with your toxic positivity.”
“And you’re entitled to your opinion.”
“Hmph.” Andi snapped her fingers. “Danny, come on, we’re leaving.” To Jazzy, she said, “I’ve got better things to do. Like takingmyfiancé to bed.”
With a toss of her head, Andi grabbed Danny’s arm and shuttled him out the door.
“Wow,” Charlie said after they’d left. “You dodged a bullet with Danny. Good thing Andi stole him from you.”
“Please, Charlie.” Jazzy pressed her palms together and brought her joined thumbs to her sternum. “I know you’re trying to help, but let’s not put Danny down. He meant a lot to me once and if Andi makes him happy, then I’m happy for him.”
Charlie snorted and eyed her. “You mean it?”
“I do.” Danny had been her first kiss, her first love, her firsteverything. He would forever hold a special place in her heart, but most importantly, he’d taught her what she didn’t want from a life partner.
“I’ve said it a million times before, but I’m saying it again. You’re a far better person than I am, Jazzy.”
“I’m not. I’m petty and small.”
“In what universe?”
Jazzy tapped the flyer. “The universe where I enter the cookie contest and beat the pants off Andi.”
Charlie raised his eyebrows. “You sure about that? Beating Andi in a baking contest won’t be easy. She’s a darn good baker.”
“Maybe it won’t be easy,” Jazzy said, “but I have a secret weapon.”
“What’s that?” Charlie tossed the bag of peas in the trash can near the stage. “I’m intrigued. What’s up your sleeve?”
“I’m going to convince Roan Sullivan to teach me how to bake.”
“Santa Claus is coming to town,” Jazzy sang as she swept past the empty bed of the semiprivate room and over to the corner bed where Trinity rested.
Jazzy wore a smile as bright as Christmas, jingle bells pinned to her scrub top and her blond hair pulled back into a jaunty ponytail that swished when she walked.
Charmed, Roan couldn’t help returning the animated nurse’s grin.
Trinity responded like a daisy turning toward the sun. In a voice that was much stronger than yesterday, his daughter cried, “Nurse Jazzy!”
“He’s making a list.” Jazzy settled the tray on the overbed table. “Checking it twice...”
From where Roan reclined, he’d been trying to get some shut-eye. He sat up straight and swung his legs around, jamming his feet into his well-worn cowboy boots. He felt defenseless without footwear. Give him a horse or a cast-iron Dutch oven, and Roan was in his element, but he was out of his league in a hospital.
Or near Jazzy Walker.
“How are you this morning?” Jazzy asked as she slipped an electronic blood pressure cuff around Trinity’s little arm.