by Scott, Laura
Jenna headed straight for the coffee when she entered Lifeline’s lounge at ten minutes before 0700 hours.
“Good morning.” Zane’s voice startled her when she was about to take a sip, and she sloshed coffee down the front of her flight suit.
“Morning,” she mumbled as she picked up a napkin and dabbed at the stain. Why was she such a klutz around him? Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she tossed the napkin into the garbage, then turned toward him. Lifting her chin, she focused on a spot just behind his head. “So, how was the rest of your night?”
“Uneventful.” To her chagrin, he stepped closer. The scent of his woodsy aftershave teased her senses. “How is your foot? Did you get the glass out?”
“It’s fine,” she lied. She hadn’t found all the glass, and she could still feel a hidden shard with every step, but there was no way she was going to admit the truth. Besides, she’d learned in her training that foreign objects tended to work their way out of a wound eventually. After taking a careful sip of coffee, she glanced over his shoulder toward the debriefing room. “Guess we should go.”
Zane didn’t answer but walked behind her as they made their way across to the debriefing area. Walking normally had never been so difficult.
The day shift pilot, Reese Jarvis, was there, but there was still no sign of Jenna’s crewmate. Jenna grabbed the schedule to see who was supposed to fly with her.
“Samantha needed the day off, so I’m covering the first four hours of her shift,” Zane answered as if reading her mind. “After that, Dr. Kurt Simon will be in to work.”
Jenna glanced at Reese in concern. “Is Sam all right?”
Dr. Samantha Jarvis was Reese’s wife. He nodded, although his smile was feeble. “Yeah, but she scared the life out of me the way she was throwing up nonstop. Why is it called morning sickness if it doesn’t happen only in the morning?” A frown furrowed his brow. “Shouldn’t they just call it pregnancy sickness instead?”
Jenna lifted her shoulder in a helpless shrug. She was the last person to ask about birthing babies, unless you counted what she’d learned through her paramedic training. So far, she hadn’t been forced to put her limited knowledge to use. “Sounds logical to me.”
“Anyway, she’s hoping to be back to work soon—if she can stop throwing up long enough to leave the house,” Reese added. “I appreciate you covering for her, Taylor.”
“No problem.” Zane’s drawl sent shivers of awareness zipping down her spine.
Distance. She needed distance. Then she remembered Zane was staying over for part of her shift. The news hadn’t fully registered in her brain until that moment. So much for her plan to avoid him. Four hours. Not very long in the big scheme of things. She should be able to maintain a professional relationship for four hours.
Stealing her resolve, she glanced at Zane. “I was surprised to see the Lifeline chopper at the scene last night. How’s the driver? Did you hear any news?”
“He’s holding his own in the trauma ICU at Trinity Medical Center,” Zane confirmed. “The female passenger was admitted to a cardiac step-down unit for observation, and she seems to be doing well, too. It just so happened we were on our way back from refueling and were close to the scene, so that’s how we made it so fast. It was a good thing you were on hand to help.”
She preferred not to remember the details of their bizarre meeting last night. “Any potential calls?”
“Yes, there was a call earlier this morning about a possible ICU transfer from Green Bay, but they were still waiting to get permission from the family. We are on standby for now.”
“Sounds good.” She turned toward Reese. “Any weather issues we need to know about?”
“Nope, clear skies and no wind. Should be a great day for flying.”
Wonderful. Avoiding Zane wasn’t an option, not if they were flying to Green Bay. Well, at least she didn’t need to sit here and chat with him while they waited to hear about the transfer.
She stood and carried her empty coffee cup to the lounge. As she poured a refill, she heard someone come up behind her. Figuring it was Reese, she asked, “You don’t normally drink coffee, do you? Being up all night with Samantha make you interested in trying it?”
“I love coffee, thanks.” The deep timbre of Zane’s voice caught her off guard. This time, though, she managed not to spill.
Swallowing hard, she poured a second cup and handed it to him. The slight touch of their fingertips sent a tingle through her hand, just like the last time she’d stuck a knife in the toaster to pry out a bagel. Stupid move on her part, yeah, but no worse than standing within touching distance of Zane Taylor.
“How long have you lived on Twenty-second Street in the Barclay Park area?” Zane asked. “It’s not the greatest neighborhood.”
She bristled, shooting him a narrow glare. Snob. He must be one of those people who took having money for granted. “Are you insinuating people don’t drive drunk and hit light poles on the Hill?”
The Hill was a slang term for the Hills of Riverbend, a very nice suburban area located west of Milwaukee, where only the affluent could afford to live.
Where Zane Taylor lived.
Where she’d never in her entire life be able to live.
His eyebrows rose at her defensive tone. “I didn’t say that. But now that you mention it, the Hill is a heck of a lot safer than Barclay Park. And I’m not worried about a drunk driving accident. We’ve gotten victims of multiple gunshot wounds from that area.”
“There’s nothing wrong with where I live.” Jenna held on to her temper with an effort. Okay, he was right. Gunshots did occasionally ring out around them. But did Zane really think she chose to live in Barclay Park on purpose? Get real. No one in the right mind chose to live in one of the poorest sections of the city. But moneywise, it was the best she could afford.
All of which was none of his business.
She tried to sidestep him, intent on finding Reese. But her injured foot didn’t cooperate. She couldn’t hide a wince when the stabbing pain darted up toward her ankle. Ouch. She wouldn’t last her entire twelve-hour shift if she didn’t do something about the sliver of glass. The angle had been awkward, so she hadn’t been able to see properly when she cleaned the area on her own.
“Sit down. Give me this.” Zane lifted her coffee mug out of her hand with the grace she’d never have and set it aside without spilling a drop. Then he gently nudged her toward the sofa. “I’m examining your foot, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Dear Reader
A Doctor’s Trust