Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97409 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97409 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“I agree.” His response shocks me. “When are you free?”
“Well, not now.” I pick up the pen again, and he chuckles. It makes my nipples tighten, exactly like they did that night, but now said nipples are killing me for a whole different reason. The same reason I have to talk to him. “But I can meet you tomorrow, before my shift.” Yeah, that’s a good idea, I egg myself on silently. Give yourself the night to prepare the speech you are going to give.
“Tomorrow sounds good.” His mouth is going from a smirk to a grin. “What time and where?”
“It would have to be midday. I’m on shift from three to three,” I say, mentioning the twelve-hour shift I’m scheduled for tomorrow.
“I can make it work. How about we meet in town at the bakery?”
I want to tell him we should do it a little bit more privately, but it’s also good that I know what to expect. Ms. Maddie and her daughter, Everleigh, were always kind to me, so there might not be that much gossip. Then again, it all depends on who is in the bakery at the time. “Yeah, that works,” I agree before I can change my mind. The only other place I can think of is Thatcher’s, and I’m not going to a bar before my shift. I barely go after my shifts.
“What time?” he asks me, and I think about it.
“How about one? That way I can go straight into work after.” I arrange the meetup so that I won’t have time to go back home and replay the conversation in my head a million times and then feel sorry for myself.
“It’s a date.” I shake my head.
“Not a date,” I refute, “definitely not a date.”
“Well, we are going out, and we are going to have a meal together.” He tries to be cute and, damn it, he is.
“I said coffee. I never said a meal,” I correct him. “So, not a date.”
“Coffee is also considered a date. Not that we have to put a label on anything.”
“Oh, trust me”—I tilt my head to the side—“I got that loud and clear when I woke up the morning after, and there was a puff of smoke in the air from you leaving like a thief in the night.”
“First off, it was early morning.” As if that’s better, I roll my eyes at him. “And I had to get to work.”
“Sure,” I retort, then stop talking when Roman, my partner, comes back into the room from the outside door.
“Hey.” Roman looks at me and then at Theo. “You were at the scene earlier, weren’t you?”
“Yeah.” Theo stands up straight. “I came to see if they had any news about Sierra for my cousin.”
“She’s still in surgery,” I tell him as I look down at my paper, “but the nurses are around here somewhere.” I point out one of the nurses who is coming out of a room. “Tammy will probably know.”
“Thanks.” It seems like he’s going to say something else, but stops himself. “Thanks for today.”
“Hope everyone is okay.” Roman leans on the other side of me, much like Theo just was.
I watch Theo walk over to Tammy. She smiles at him as she tries to make him feel better. A couple of minutes later, he’s walking out of the room.
“You almost done?” Roman asks from beside me.
“Yeah,” I tell him, “just finishing up the notes. Did you get the rig restocked?”
“I did. And I’m ready for lunch or dinner or whatever you want to call it. I’m starving.”
I laugh at him. “Got the message loud and clear.” I finish the report, tear it off after signing it, and bring it to Tammy.
“Here is the information for Sierra,” I tell her, and she smiles at me, reading it.
“Thank you.” She turns and places it inside the patient’s file. I grab my stainless steel binder, walking back out of the hospital and toward the rig.
“You driving?” I ask Roman, and he nods, heading toward the driver’s side.
Roman and I have been partners for the past five years. What I really wanted to do was become a nurse, but as soon as I turned eighteen, my parents told me that I had to start helping with the bills. They told me it was my duty as their child to go out there and get a full-time job. School was not needed, at least to them it wasn’t. The minute I graduated from high school, they wanted me to take an office job at one of those small insurance companies, answering the phone and doing some light office work, such as filing claims. Which I did to please them.
My parents have never been parents, and since before I could remember, they used me to their advantage. I remember being about eight, maybe younger, and my mother taking me to the supermarket to panhandle and ask people to donate so she could put me in dance classes. Spoiler alert: I did not attend dance classes a single day in my life. Then, when I was a teenager, she set up a table at the park to help pay for me to go to prom. I never went to that either.