by Score, Lucy
“Swoon,” the first nurse sighed.
“Yeah, swoon and a subluxed shoulder and third-degree burns on the hand that I hear is capable of delivering multiple orgasms within impossible windows of time.”
“This guy tall, blond, gorgeous? A little on the flirty side?” Mack asked.
The first nurse looked up as she dragged on an ancient pair of gym shorts. “Yeah. Lincoln Reed. Fire chief over in Benevolence. He was first on-scene. You meet him?” she asked, eyeing the flight suit Mack was shoving into her bag.
“Briefly.”
“He’s downstairs in the ED. You know, if you want to check him out with two working arms,” the second nurse said with a glint in her eye.
Mack chewed it over. “I might just do that.”
“I’m Nellie, by the way.”
“Mack. Dr. O’Neil,” she said.
“The new flight doc. Nice to meet you. Great work today. Your girl is in surgery. No spine injury. I’m Sharon.”
“Oh…thanks for that.” She said her goodbyes and headed out into the hallway.
She wasn’t used to knowing that. The after. Whether they made it or didn’t. Her job as a retrievalist was to get the patient to the best resources. End of story. She’d gotten used to the not knowing. Gotten comfortable with it.
Sometimes it was better not to know.
Faces flashed before her. The ones she’d lost.
Two orderlies wandered by cracking jokes. Mack pulled herself out of her head. Nothing good came from looking back.
Going on instinct, she veered away from the parking lot and headed instead into the emergency department. It was relatively quiet here. Most of the other crash victims would have been routed through the county hospital. It was smaller but closer. The fact that Linc was here told her he hadn’t wanted to add another case to the overtaxed emergency department. A point for him.
She didn’t have to look hard for her flirty firefighter. There was a clump of adoring female medical personnel clustered around a trauma bay.
Chief Sexy Pants, with his broad shoulders and easy grin, took up most of the space between the vinyl curtains. The back of his left hand was bandaged, his right arm was in a sling that she could tell he was itching to get out of. He was hooked to a bag of fluids, most likely for the dehydration that came from battling blazes.
Mack thought of the flowers, wondered if it was true. If it was, it was wildly romantic and irresponsible.
Dr. Ling, according to the fiercely frowning woman’s ID badge, glanced up from the laptop. “Unless you’re family, you’re going to need to stay in the waiting room,” she said without looking up.
“Doc Dreamy here is family. She’s my future wife,” Linc said.
Mack laughed and pretended not to notice the daggers the nursing staff shot in her direction. Holding up her hospital ID, she noted the disappointment that flashed across Dr. Ling’s face. Mack had known doctors like Ling. Territorial, a shade aggressive. But usually very, very good at medicine. “We’re old friends,” Mack said. “Nice to see you again, Lefty. How’s the wing?”
“Good as new thanks to the doc here.”
“That’s not even remotely accurate,” Dr. Ling announced dryly, then reluctantly, for Mack’s behalf, added, “Partial subluxation. It’s back in place and needs to stay stabilized. The chief is under strict orders not to over-stress the injury.”
“How’s our patient?” Linc asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and pointing at the IV in his arm. With a nod from Dr. Ling, one of the nurses jumped into action to remove it. Mack was a little disappointed when the woman didn’t kiss the Band-Aid she gently smoothed over the tiny needle hole.
“Not sure,” Mack said, shoving a hand in the pocket of her shorts. “Made it here in one piece. She’s in surgery. No spinal. But that’s all I know.”
“I can find out for you, chief,” one of the younger nurses said, American as apple pie with blonde curls and pretty blue eyes with lashes that were batting a mile a minute.
“I’d appreciate that, Lurlene.”
Oh, she would recognize that hotshot charm anywhere, Mack thought, as Lurlene sprinted for the desk. And not so long ago she’d have had no issues with enjoying a couple of rounds in bed with said hotshot charm. But she was turning over a new leaf.
A new, celibate, boring leaf.
Too bad there was something in those eyes that she liked, that she recognized. The slick, harmless charm. The exhaustion he was keeping tamped down.
He stood, and even the indomitable Dr. Ling took a step back to accommodate him.
Taller than she’d thought. A little broader too. But not soft. Except around the eyes.
His build reminded her of the neighbor she’d accidentally spied over her backyard fence in the early dawn hours putting himself through a punishing workout, a yellow lab delightedly shadowing his movements.
Not a bad way to wake up.
“Feel like giving a wounded man a ride home, doc?” Linc asked.
Mack heard the internal swooning of a half-dozen women.
“Sorry, Lefty. I’ve got plans.”
On cue, RS poked her head around the curtain and held up her pager. “Yo, doc. Caught another one. Next shift pilot’s late. Raincheck?”
Mack sent her a wave. “Happy flying, RS. Next shift.”
Linc’s grin broadened. “Looks like you’ve got time to drive me home after all.”
4
Linc liked the conflict he read on her bare face. Freshly showered—her hair smelled like lavender and honey—Doc Dreamy was as attractive in shorts and a worn National Guard shirt as she was in a flight suit.
“Where do you live?” she asked, chewing on that now naked lip as she gave the idea some thought.
“Little town called Benevolence. I’m sure it’s on the way to wherever you’re headed,” he said, all charm now. The sock-in-the-gut speechless reaction he’d had to her on-scene was going to be chalked up to being distracted by his shoulder. Now that he was trussed up like a damn turkey and rehydrated, he was free to focus on those wary green eyes.
“Honey, I don’t care if he lives in South Dakota.” Janice the RN had twenty years on him and barely topped out at five feet even. But she returned his shameless flirting with an expertise he hoped to someday possess. “You drive our boy home and thank us later.”
It was official. Janice was his favorite.
Linc’s cell rang from the depths of his gym bag. Automatically he reached for it with his right hand and winced.
Doc Dreamy—he wondered if knowing her real name would ruin any of the entertaining fantasies he’d concocted while Dr. Ling ruthlessly shoved the head of his damn humerus back into the socket—rolled her eyes.
She took the bag from him and fished out the phone.
“What’s up, Lighthorse?” he said.
“Checking in. Still have both arms?” his friend asked.
“Good as new. In fact, if you’re still at the scene, I can probably swing by and help with cleanup,” he offered.
“No!” Dr. Ling and Doc Dreamy announced together.
Brody laughed. “Sounds like you’ve got some babysitters. We’ve got it under control. DUI, by the way. Truck driver had five doubles at a dive bar before climbing behind the wheel. Ran after the wreck, but the highway patrol found him. One dead. Seventeen injured. Six seriously.”
Linc swore under his breath.
One was too many. A useless death for a selfish, bullshit reason.
“One’s better than I expected,” Brody said.
“Me, too. Still.”
“Yeah. Still. Anyway, I sent the rook to take Sunshine home. Want me to have her swing by the hospital? Give you a lift?”
Linc looked at Doc Dreamy, who was stuffing the patient care instructions he fully intended to ignore into his gym bag.
“Nah. Got it covered. Thanks for taking care of my girl,” he said.
“Your girl probably ate your curtains and pissed on your toaster
by now,” Brody predicted.
That sounded about right. “Yeah, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow at the station.”
“For light duty only,” Dr. Ling yelled.
“Busted,” Brody snickered. “Save your energy for the forty tons of paperwork.”
They disconnected, and Doc Dreamy took Linc’s phone and stuffed it in the bag. “Let’s go, Lefty.”
“You want to ask about my girl, don’t you?”
“Nope,” she said, shouldering his bag. “You ready?”
“Dr. Ling?” He extended his left hand and shook hers. “Ladies? Thanks for the superior medical care. Five stars all around.”
“Happy to help,” the doctor said dryly.
He followed the doc out of the curtained-off bay into the bustle of the emergency department. A kid, young from the sounds of it, wailed pitifully from somewhere. A guy in the next bed held a towel soaked with blood over his forehead and stared miserably at his shoes. Nurses—at least the ones of the female persuasion—paused long enough to flash Linc a smile before sailing off to the next patient. They flirted in rotation, folding a wink or a sweet smile in with the rest of their duties.
“Chief! Wait!” Lurlene rushed up, cheeks flushed. “I just heard from the OR. Splenectomy is going well. She’s expected to make it.”
“Thanks, honey.” Linc placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.
“Said she coded on the way here and the air team brought her back and intubated her. She was real lucky.”
“Yeah, she was,” he murmured, thinking about the devastation caused by one man and his problem. “Nice save, doc.”
Dreamy looked embarrassed. “You ready?” she asked abruptly.
His very attractive chauffeur looked like she was ready to crawl out of her skin if she had to stand there another second and accept accolades.
“I am.” Linc used the exhausted and injured thing to his advantage and slung his good arm around her shoulders. She stiffened for a second and then shifted her bag and his to better handle his weight.
With the first step, he realized it wasn’t a play. Weak as a fucking kitten. Hollowed out, hungry, and tired. He clenched his jaw and tried to cover his sharp intake of breath.
Her arm came around his waist. He wasn’t fooling her. Fuck.
“Nice work, today, you two,” Dr. Ling said grudgingly as they made for the exit.
“Thanks. You, too,” his pretty doctor crutch called back.
They slowly made their way in the direction of the waiting room and paused to let a nurse leading an older woman hurry by. “Your husband’s right in here, ma’am,” the nurse said, pulling back the curtain to one of the first bays.
Nelson, a little worse for the wear, beamed up from his bed. His head was bandaged, as was his left arm. There were enough wires sticking out of him to reanimate Frankenstein’s monster. But he was alive and smiling up at his wife like they were teenage sweethearts.
Linc felt the hitch in Dreamy’s stride.
“I leave you alone for an hour and look what you get yourself into,” Nelson’s wife blustered. She leaned over him, brushing a shock of white hair off his forehead and kissing him ever so gently on the forehead.
“Have I got a story to tell you,” Nelson said. “Here. I got you these.” He pointed to the flowers a nurse had thoughtfully put in an ugly plastic ice pitcher. They were wilted, browned, the baby’s breath was singed to a crisp.
“Oh, Nelson.” His wife dissolved into tears and carefully climbed into the bed next to him.
The patient glanced up and spied Linc. “Thank you,” he mouthed.
Linc nodded at Nelson, then cleared his throat. Dreamy cleared hers. Two stoic responders trying not to let their feelings show.
“Let’s get out of here, Dreamy,” he said softly.
They made it out the front doors and into the summer evening in silence. He was sweating from the effort of not limping and groaning and painfully aware of how badly he needed a shower. This was not his best first impression.
“You can put more weight on me,” she said. “I can handle it.”
“Pfft. I’m fine. This was just an excuse to put my arm around you,” he said through gritted teeth.
“You’ve officially been upgraded from Lefty to Hotshot,” Dreamy decided.
Linc glanced over his shoulder and made sure they no longer had an audience. “In that case.” He leaned heavily on her. That lavender scent wafting up from her hair wreaked havoc on his senses.
“I’m parked pretty far out,” she said. “Wait here, and I’ll get the car.”
“No way. Gotta keep moving,” he countered. If he stopped and sat, he’d be asleep in seconds. And snoring on a bus bench was no way to charm a beautiful woman.
She sighed, and he knew she’d been there. “Suit yourself. Think we should exchange names?” she mused to him as they slowly, painfully made their way down the longest row of cars in the history of parking lots.
“Nah. What’s the fun in that?” he said.
“Good point. To give you something to look forward to, Hotshot, my car has air-conditioned seats.”
It boded well for the fresh river of sweat working its way down his back. He hoped the deluge wouldn’t short out her car’s electrical system.
“Almost there,” she said.
He had a good amount of his body weight on her, and she was barely breathing heavy. From his grip on her shoulder, he felt the telltale flexing of well-developed muscle.
They arrived finally at a big-ass dark blue SUV. She propped him against the fender and dumped both their bags into the hatch. “Can you get into your seat yourself, or do you need a hand?”
Linc searched for something flirty or the appropriate euphemism and came up dry. He blamed it on exhaustion and hunger.
She grinned at him, and he felt it in his gut.
“Relax, Hotshot. We’re not having sex. You don’t have to worry about impressing me. You’re allowed to be tired.”
“Why aren’t we having sex?” he demanded, collapsing into the passenger seat of the spotless vehicle.
“I’m new here. I could be an ax-murdering black widow with a string of dead husbands.”
He gave her a deliberate once-over, pausing on her bare left ring finger. “I’m willing to take that chance.”
“Yeah, I bet you are. And if circumstances were different, if we met a few months ago, I wouldn’t mind taking your very impressive body for a spin.”
Linc felt just the slightest bit objectified, then decided he didn’t mind one bit.
“Well, now I have to ask what happened between past Doc Dreamy and present.”
“No. You don’t,” she said cheerfully. The engine roared to life. “Just like I’m not asking you about ‘your girl.’”
“If we’re not sleeping together, then we’re gonna be friends. And friends tell each other everything,” he said, changing tactics.
She smirked at him and shifted into reverse. “Always wanted myself a gal pal.”
He laughed. She was sharp. And he was smart enough to find that very attractive.
His stomach interrupted his entertainment with an aggressive reminder that it was empty.
“Listen, I know you’re valiantly holding out on my charm. But how do you feel about food? I don’t mean to come on strong—” Lies. “—but I could eat your very shapely arm right now.”
“Cannibalism is certainly the most interesting offer I’ve had today,” she said, backing out of the space and steering them in the direction of the highway that paralleled the hospital’s parking lot.
They rode in silence for a few minutes. Linc thought of Nelson and his wife. One minute later, he and Nelson and anyone else working on that car would have ended up as charcoal.
They’d all been extremely lucky.
They exited the highway two stops before Benevolence, and Linc thanked his lucky stars when she pulled into the cracked asphalt parking lot of a diner.
He let her help him inside
more out of necessity than flirtation. They settled into a booth with a scarred stainless-steel top and shiny napkin dispenser.
“Wanna tell me about it?” she asked, signaling for the waitress. “We can swap war stories, only make ourselves sound more heroic and good-looking.”
“Dreamy, look at us. People don’t get more good-looking than this.”
“Pfft. Listen, Hotshot, when you’re as attractive as we are, try to have at least a feigned sense of humility. No one likes a beautiful asshole.”
He grinned at her and decided it was possible that he’d finally met his match.
The server, a no-nonsense, end-of-her-shift type, arrived and peered at them over her blue-framed reading glasses. “What’ll it be, kids?”
Dreamy ordered green tea and an egg white omelet with a side of fresh fruit. Linc went for a gallon of coffee, three waters, and the meatloaf with a side of turkey sandwich.
The waitress didn’t blink, but Dreamy smirked. “Must have been quite the calorie burn,” she predicted.
Orders placed, they traded stories of the shift, the call, the victims.
“It was a DUI. The truck driver was shit-faced and didn’t see the construction signs. He just plowed into stopped traffic,” Linc told her.
Her sigh had weight to it. “If Drivers Ed kids had to walk on to an accident scene, no one would ever text or drink and drive again.”
He recognized it. The frustration. The fact that so many of these injuries, so many deaths, could be completely avoided. But there would always be people incapable of making the right choice. They would always hurt someone else. And he, and others like the doctor lounging across from him, would be there to pick up the pieces.
The exhaustion that pushed at his brain started to encroach. He took another hit of very good diner coffee, resisting the urge to guzzle it.
“I know what you’re saying. At least every single one of those people who went home today will drive more carefully.”
“The nurses in the ED were all aflutter over you saving those flowers,” Dreamy said, sipping her green tea that she’d accessorized with a judicious squirt of lemon. “But it sounds like they’re usually aflutter over Chief Sexy Pants.”