“I’ll probably feel better after we eat. Let me figure out where.” Cheeks pink, Jude reached for his phone, but I held up a hand.
“I’ll handle dinner.” Finding a decent burger place nearby was the least I could do. “You take a minute.”
“Thanks.” Closing his eyes again, Jude leaned against a nearby post, breathing deeply. Taking care of him, even in small ways, felt better than earning a ribbon or commendation. Huh. Apparently, Linus wasn’t the only being slipping past my defenses.
Chapter Twelve
Jude
Letting Carson handlethe little details like where to eat made the remainder of our time at the equine hospital more bearable. In a serendipitous bit of timing, Linus was able to get his MRI shortly after the blood work, and Dr. Song shooed us along to dinner. Back at my truck, we unhitched the empty trailer into a space designated by the attendant.
“Where are we eating?” I asked Carson as we finished situating the trailer.
“Found a place.” Carson held up his phone so I could see the address and add it to my GPS. “Close to hotel.”
“Thanks.” I put the truck in gear. I hadn’t heard of the brew pub he’d found, but I trusted his pick. The location was a bonus because I sorely needed a beer and was contemplating breaking my usual one-beer limit for when I was driving or on call. “I’ll park at the hotel, and then we can walk to the restaurant.”
We arrived at the hotel and rushed through the check-in process so we could eat sooner.
“I hate leaving the horses.” Carson’s mouth twisted to one side. His speech had shown little improvements lately, but his facial features occasionally revealed ongoing TBI effects.
“I know. Me too.” I slowed my pace to accommodate his more deliberate gait. “But even with a rush job, pathology on RC’s biopsy won’t be back until tomorrow morning. Ditto the neurologist reviewing Linus’s MRI. Heck, we’re lucky to get such a quick turnaround going into a weekend.”
“Yeah.” Carson paused at a crosswalk to wait for the walk signal to illuminate.
“They’ll be okay.” I wanted to touch his arm as he had done for me earlier, but I had no idea how he’d react to such a gesture in a more public setting. “Scott’s beef is with me, not the horses.”
“Sure seemed personal.” Carson shot me a pointed look.
“He’s a lot of bluster.” I kept the irritation in my tone to a minimum. However, privately, I cursed the universe for assigning Scott to my cases. I would have preferred any other attending. My back tensed at having to explain his behavior away. “I heard him talking to the team before the MRI. He’s taking the case seriously, even if he wants to prove a point to me in the process.”
“Scott gonna be at the thing tomorrow?” Carson sounded ready to personally step into battle for me, an image that buoyed me regardless of how much I was dreading the luncheon.
“The reunion lunch? Probably.” I offered a small smile as we approached the restaurant. “Damn glad to have you along as a distraction.”
“Happy to help.” Carson sounded genuine, which was good because I already felt guilty enough over dragging him into ex-friend drama.
I was first to the door, so I held it open for Carson. Although it was Friday in the back-to-campus busy season, we were seated promptly in a booth at the far side of the center bar area. The place was new since I’d last been in town, but it had a friendly, well-established vibe with electric signs and wall decor. The room was noisier than my favorite place, with a dancefloorto the rear, but the booth provided both distraction and noise reduction.
“Fair warning.” I fiddled with my menu, but didn't open it. “Scott might not be the only former friend at the reunion lunch.”
“They all end badly?” Carson raised his eyebrows over his menu.
“Not all,” I hedged, hating that we needed to have this conversation. Given how badly seeing Scott had gone, though, Carson deserved a heads-up. “I kind of went through a bit of a man-whore phase when I got out of the army.” Cheeks heating, I took a quick sip of my water. “First real chance to experiment. In my defense, I was younger and stupider. I was too focused on my studies to make time to date for real. Plenty of regrets on all sides.”
“I’m sure.” Carson gave a good-natured chuckle. “Never had that phase.”
“Trust me, you’re not missing much.” I matched his casual tone, glad he didn’t seem uncomfortable at the topic or my past behavior. I wasn’t the same person I’d been back then, and merely discussing that phase made my shirt stick to my suddenly sweaty lower back. “Like you said earlier, friends with benefits can get messy, and I’m not much on stranger hookups or the bar scene.”
“Yep.” Carson nodded like he knew a thing or two about such a mess, but before I could figure out how to pry, our server reappeared.
“Ready to order?” The server was a college-aged guy with small hoop earrings and a matching nose ring. Despite the country music and western-themed decor, the place seemed rather progressive, judging by the many young staff members with tattoos and piercings.
“Sure.” Carson was affable as ever.
“Crap. I didn’t even look at the menu.” I groaned as I glanced over at Carson’s open menu, which was alarmingly thick. My weary brain wanted nothing to do with deciding. “What are you having?”
“This one.” Carson pointed at a picture of a towering burger called Rodeo Cowboy, topped with barbecue sauce, an onion ring, and cheese, among other items. “Make it two?”
