McCarthy?” Ryan turned to see one of the neuro nurses poking her head in the door. “Yes, Kelly?” “Did you want to sign off on Mr. Bellman’s papers?” “I don’t believe I need to.” “Oh.” She feigned confusion, double-checked the papers. Ryan was already turning around, trying to refocus on his work. Kelly was one of a handful of nurses who liked to trump up reasons to interrupt him, to come into his office when he was at the hospital and wave around her fake nails and boobs. Wild, bombshell blondes had attracted him at one point, admittedly. But not now. Now he only wanted shiny dark curls and light green eyes. Kelly paused, perhaps considering another tack, but to his relief he heard the door close. He was eager to finish up and get his notes in order for tomorrow. He had a feeling he’d be preoccupied at home tonight. At home. Home took on a whole new meaning, knowing she would be there now. Home, for him, had always meant quiet. Structure. Solitude. He’d never lived with a woman, never wanted to.