by CP Smith
He waited for her to pull out, thinking she must be blind to have missed the large decal on his door announcing he was an officer of the law. One who could access anyone’s information.
When she drove off, he watched her taillights until they were specks in the inky darkness, then grabbed his radio and called in to the station.
“63-7 to headquarters.”
“Go ahead 7.”
“Can you run an address for a Susan Elizabeth Montgomery? She lives near US-41.”
“10-4. You need back up, Mayson?” Nettie Smith questioned.
“Nope. I’ve got it all under control, Nettie,” James chuckled, then turned on his ignition and headed back to his house.
TWO
DAWN CAME SWIFTLY AND I was still awake, listening to overly happy birds as they called in a new day. Turning on my stomach, I covered my head with my pillow to block out their joyful singing. I didn’t know what they were so happy about. Couldn’t they see I was trying to slip into a coma so I could forget about how my own body had betrayed me?
“James Trevor Mayson,” I groaned. Of all the men to come to my aid. Of all the men to ring my bell, in more ways than one, it had to be the man my friends at work had warned me to stay away from.
I’d heard about James on my second night in town. A group of nurses had invited me to get a drink after work, and I’d gone hoping to make friends. Murfreesboro was a small city, but it seemed to be teaming with good-looking men, and since I was single now, I wanted to know who was who. So, while we had our drinks, my new friends gave me the rundown on who was married, who was single, and who to stay the hell away from. James was at the top of that list, according to Jamila, Kari, and Tonya.
They’d said he was a serial dater. Said he hadn’t ever been in a relationship for more than a week or two. That he was Murfreesboro’s most eligible bachelor for a reason. He was unattainable.
My eyes finally grew heavy with needed sleep, but instead of the gloom I’d hoped to keep me company, a pair of ultra-blue eyes followed me into my dreams. And they were smiling at me.
____________________________
I woke up late for my shift at the hospital, thanks to James and my inability to fall asleep, so I wasn’t paying attention as I locked my front door. When I turned to make my way to my car, I missed the man in my yard. He was leaning against my hood, his arms and ankles crossed like he had all day to wait on me. He was also dressed in a deputy sheriff’s uniform that took his wild looks to a whole other level, and I groaned.
No wonder he’d grinned at me when I boasted about him not being able to find me.
When our eyes met, a shiver ran through my body and curled into a place it shouldn’t, pissing me off.
“How did you find me?” I asked like an idiot to cover my reaction.
James looked at his uniform, then back at me. “Think that’s obvious.”
Right. He’d used his position as a deputy to track me down.
“I’m late for work. What do you want?” I replied in a snippy tone. It irritated me that with a single look, I was already thinking how badly I wanted him to kiss me again.
Serial dater. Keep your wits about you!
James watched me like a hawk as I passed him, then pushed off my hood and followed me. As I reached for my door handle, he grabbed my arm and swung me around, leaning into me.
My traitorous body stood up and took notice, warming instantly to his nearness.
“Go out with me,” he rumbled low, leaning his forehead against mine like we’d been lovers for years. I gasped at the intimacy, but didn’t try to break free. His voice was like an aphrodisiac, and his blue eyes bored into mine as if he saw nothing around him but me.
He really was a pro at this. I was trapped like a fly in a web. And he was the very delicious looking spider.
“I told you last night not to come near me,” I whooshed out, trying to keep my voice even and unaffected by his closeness. I totally failed.
“I heard you, but the way you lit up under my hands tells a different story. You want me as much as I want you.”
He was so far from being wrong it pissed me off further, so I narrowed my eyes and went on the defensive.
“Speakin’ of tellin’ a different story,” I began, trying to redirect his thoughts and my libido. “I’ve heard a few about you, so I’m not surprised you were able to wring a reaction out of me. You’re very practiced.”
He pulled back an inch and searched my face. “What stories?” he asked, acting confused. He almost sounded believable.
“Doesn’t matter,” I sighed, reaching behind me for my door handle. “I’m not interested, okay. Now move. I’ll be late for my shift at the hospital if you don’t.”
His hand came up and cupped my cheek, then he ran his thumb over my bottom lip. I felt the same current crackle between us like it had last night, and I couldn’t pull my eyes away from his.
James watched his thumb trace my lip, then looked back at me and leaned in until his mouth was next to my ear, whispering, “Boom, baby. You can’t fight destiny,” before pulling back and kissing the tip of my nose like I was precious to him.
I blinked, but didn’t move. My brain cells had ceased to function the minute his warm breath hit my neck. Did boom mean destiny? Was he saying we were destined to be together?
A sexy grin spread across his mouth as I stared back at him in a fog. With a chuckle, he moved me to his side, opened my door, and then helped me into my seat. I said nothing, in too much shock to utter a word.
“Start your car, Susan,” James called out, after I’d watched him longer than I should have.
I jumped at his command and inserted the key, feeling a blush run up my cheeks as I started my Mustang and pulled out.
As I drove away, I looked in the rearview mirror and caught James watching me leave. My heart fluttered at the sight of him standing there. There was something about him that called out to me in a way no other man had, and I knew if he continued in this vein, I would eventually give in just to taste his forbidden fruit, manwhore or not.
Pushing my pedal to the floor, I gunned the engine and shot forward down US-41, heading to St. Thomas Hospital. I turned on the radio to drown out my thoughts, but Lionel Richie’s “Hello” kept my mind squarely on James.
Thirty minutes later, I ran into the ER breakroom, late like I knew I would be, and took a chair. It was shift change, and I had to get report from the a.m. staff before taking over their patients.
Jamila and Kari bugged out their eyes at me as I entered. I ducked my head, opened my notebook, and looked across the table at the day shift. Jeneane Johnston, Natasha Mahadeo, and float pool staff member, Donna Coletta, stared back at me unamused, and I understood why. They’d been at work since before seven, and they wanted to go home.
“Sorry. Traffic was awful coming in,” I lied.
Jamila snorted under her breath. US-41 was never busy, but they didn’t need to know that.
Donna threw open her first chart, her eyes gleaming mad, a tiny sneer masking her face, so I grabbed my pen, swallowing hard at the hatred I saw.
Yikes!
“Bed eight,” I began, looking at Donna without flinching at her expression.
“Sixty-nine-year-old male with chest pain,” she bit out. “History of heart disease. We drew blood, and we’re still waiting to see if he’s had a heart attack. He’s on a heart monitor, and his vitals are stable at this time. Blood pressure was 160/100 when he came in. We administered a calcium channel blocker, and are continuing to monitor his vitals.”
I scribbled on my notepad as she spoke until all the charts had been discussed and the day shift clocked out.
“What’s got you so flustered?” Kari asked as I organized my charts. “You were flushed when you came in, and you fidgeted all through report.”
I knew they’d bug me until I answered, so I locked the breakroom door for privacy.
“James Trevor Mayson,” I replied, then waited for their respons
e.
Jamila and Kari both blinked.
“What about him?” Jamila asked suspiciously.
“I got a flat tire last night, and he changed it.”
“And?” Kari asked.
“And we kinda made out,” I lied. It had been so much more than tongues dancing in the night, but I wasn’t about to admit I’d been so turned on by the man that he’d given me an orgasm with very little effort.
“What?” Jamila hissed.
Kari looked at her. “How did we let this happen? Were we not specific enough? I clearly remember sayin’ he’s the most eligible bachelor in Murfreesboro For. A. Reason.” She sighed dramatically. “Let’s review: he won’t commit to a woman. Many have tried. None have succeeded. Don’t waste your time. Guard your heart. Run, don’t walk if he looks your direction . . . Were we somehow unclear on details of this man?”
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t want to make out with him, he just kinda kissed me. I’ve told him twice I don’t want anything to do with him.”
“Twice?” Jamila questioned.
I nodded. “When I left for work, he was leanin’ against my car, waitin’ for me. He asked me out this time.”
They blinked again.
“You’re tellin’ me that James Mayson kissed you last night and then showed up unannounced at your house and asked you out?” Jamila questioned in a tone that indicated she didn’t believe me.
“Why would I make it up?”
“What did he say this mornin’?” Kari asked cautiously.
“He said, ‘go out with me.’ Said we ‘couldn’t fight the boom.’”
“What’s he mean by the boom?”
I shrugged to keep from admitting that every time he touched me I felt an electric buzzing throughout my body, and a connection to him that went beyond mere sexual appetite. That when it happened, I was so drawn to him that my good sense flew out the window, and I had to hold myself back to keep from jumping him. Nope, I wasn’t about to admit that the mere presence of the man short-circuited any sense I might have had. They wouldn’t give me a moment’s peace if I did.
Someone tried to open the breakroom door, so I grabbed my charts. “We’ll talk about it more at dinner,” I stated then turned the lock and opened the door, brushing past a scrub tech.
____________________________
It must have been a full moon that night because every crazy in town showed up, along with five women in labor. It was a nonstop parade of wounds, vomiting, and objects shoved where they shouldn’t be. Time flew, and before I knew it, my shift was over. I hadn’t had time for dinner, which meant I hadn’t had time to discuss James Mayson with my friends. And to top it off, we’d had so many patients that none of us could chart until almost eleven.
I was bone-tired, after a long stretch of working with no days off, and looking forward to the next four days with nothing to do but sleep. I just had to finish charting first.
Thankfully, Kari and Jamila were in the same boat.
“Once we’re done with these charts, let’s hit Waffle House and grab an early breakfast,” Kari yawned.
“I’m too tired to eat,” I yawned back.
“I was thinking more along the lines of a drink,” Jamila replied.
“Are you okay?” Kari asked, looking over her chart at Jamila. “You’ve been quiet most of the shift.
Jamila cocked an eyebrow at Kari. “I’m fine. Just busy is all.”
I’d met both Kari and Jamila on my first day at St. Thomas. Along with Tonya Pittman, who worked night shifts rather than evenings. We’d hit it off from the beginning and became fast friends.
Kari Nappi was two years older than me, with medium brown long hair and green eyes. She was single and in no hurry to change her status. Jamila Giel was one year older, with long legs, big breasts, and short sassy red hair to go with her equally sassy personality. She was always on the lookout for a man and didn’t hide it from anyone. Tonya was my age and had a steady man. He worked nights at the GM plant in Spring Hill. She took the night shift so they would have their days together.
“We could call Tonya and see if she wants to meet us,” Jamila threw out, then rolled her bottom lip out in a childish pout.
I looked at Kari and shrugged. “Bars will be closed if we don’t hurry,” she sighed, picking up the phone in the breakroom to call Tonya.
Jamila threw her arm up and pumped her fist. “That’s the spirit.”
An hour later we were handing in our charts when the sliding bay doors to the ER opened, and a gurney came flying through carrying a police officer. He was covered in blood as a tech squeezed a portable resuscitator, forcing air into his lungs. We jumped out of the way as doctors came rushing out, followed by nurses in surgical gowns.
“What’s going on?” Kari asked Juliet Phelps, a scrub tech on the night shift.
“All we know is a drug bust gone wrong. Two officers shot. Multiple injuries.”
James’s uniform flashed through my mind. He was a deputy with the sheriff’s department, not Murfreesboro police, so it was unlikely he would have been involved. But my heart still raced at the thought of him in danger.
The girls and I stood frozen in place, watching as police officers and sheriff’s deputies began flooding the waiting room. I scanned the crowd looking for James as a second ambulance pulled into the bay. When the doors flew open, two techs jumped out followed by two uniformed officers in S.W.A.T. tactical gear. The minute they cleared the door, I gasped. One was James. He was walking, but there was blood on the front of the tactical vest and a compression bandage on his arm. He wasn’t just a sheriff’s deputy—he was part of the sheriff’s S.W.A.T. team.
I moved without thinking, hightailing it to a supply closet to grab gloves and sterile gauze. By the time I turned around, he was being ushered into Exam Room 12. I heard Kari call out my name, but I didn’t stop until I’d ripped open the curtain and entered the cubicle.
Margaret Patterson, an attending doctor who reminded me of my mother and who I instantly connected with when I came to St. Thomas, was helping James remove his vest when I entered. She turned to look at me and her brows raised. “I thought you were gone?” she muttered, turning back to James. “Help me get this rascal cleaned up.” She smiled at James. “I haven’t had to help you with your clothes since you were a baby.”
I looked at him and saw no spark in his eyes at her comment; only dead calm in the wake of whatever had happened, and knew I couldn’t leave. “I heard someone say you were short-staffed, so I thought I’d give you guys a hand.”
Just then Jamila entered the cubicle followed by Kari. They looked between James and me and glared.
“I’ll talk to you both tomorrow,” I threw out, moving toward him.
“Do you need more help?” Jamila asked.
“Check with Karen Crossland,” Margaret ordered. “This is just a flesh wound. I’ll suture him, and he’ll be out of here in no time.”
Kathy Herbst, another night shift tech, walked in carrying supplies and stopped dead, then looked at the cubicle number. “Is this where I’m supposed to be?”
Margaret waved her off with a flick of her wrist, saying, “Susan has this. Help Eurice Diaz with the concussion.”
James watched me approach, his eyes assessing, but said nothing. I tried for professional, but my shaking hands gave away my distress when I opened a package of gauze and began to clean the blood from his face.
“How are you feelin’?” I asked conversationally, but even I could hear the quiver in my voice.
He searched my face for a moment before answering. “Better now.”
I heard a sharp intake of air from the girls and looked up to find Margaret glancing between the two of us. No one had missed the meaning behind James’s words.
I refused to look at Kari and Jamila. I knew they’d give me the evil eye for speaking to him, but I didn’t care. For some reason, one I didn’t understand or want to think about, I had to be the one who took over his care.
Jimmy?
“Thanks, Margaret,” James answered, smiling at her.
“For you, anything,” Margaret beamed.
I watched in fascination as Dr. Patterson winked at James, then turned and left the room, taking Jamila and Kari with her, against their will.
Kari looked over her shoulder at me and rolled her eyes. I rolled mine back and then moved around the gurney to inspect the damage to his arm.
He had a two-inch laceration on his triceps that was still oozing blood. I needed saline solution and a syringe to flush the wound effectively and prepare it for sutures.
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
Before I could turn to leave, James grabbed my hand. “Can you check and see how Shaun Jones is doin’?”
“Is that the other officer who was shot?
“Yeah.”
I searched his face and saw real concern etched in the lines. He may be a player, but he obviously cared about the other man.
“What happened?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“Got word of a drug deal in our backyard from Nashville PD. Big one. We assembled quickly, but they were heavily armed. A firefight ensued, and men were injured. They blew up a warehouse as a diversion and got away.”
I’d heard about stuff like this on the local news, but it usually took place in a big city like Los Angeles or New York, not in Middle Tennessee, population thirty-five thousand.
“Sounds like it’s a miracle no one was killed.”
Without warning, James jerked my hand, causing me to tumble into his chest. And then slanted his mouth over mine and kissed me so deeply I forgot where we were. He overwhelmed me with his talented mouth until I was actively participating, going after his tongue on my own as if my life depended on it. I knew he was dangerous to my senses, but I was wrong. He was lethal.
“Christ, that’ll never get old,” he mumbled against my lips, nipping the bottom one before releasing my mouth.