“After everything we’ve gone through about manners,” he said, “a date is a date. I’m taking you out, and you’re not paying.”
She laughed. “I always pay my way. It makes things less complicated.”
The corners of his lips twisted up. “I suppose you could use a little less complicated right now?”
“It would help.”
He dropped his hands. “Fair enough. When do you get off?”
“My shift is over at eight. I’m usually done with sign-out by eight thirty.”
“Sign-out?”
“Checking out the patients to my relief.”
He brushed her cheek with a kiss. The swell of his split lip pressed unevenly against her skin. “Until then, babe.” His eyes narrowed with purpose. “I don’t envy your talk with the ex. Give that rock back. Better yet, shove it down his throat.”
“I had planned on giving the ring back to him tonight. Now, I get to do it sooner.”
Ash cupped her cheek. “If he ever lays a hand on you…”
She leaned in to his touch. “Don’t worry about Spencer.”
Spencer was her problem. Ash had done enough.
But getting rid of Spencer might take work. The man was tenacious as hell when he wanted something, and there was no doubt in her mind that he wanted her. That begged the question,Why had he been screwing another woman?
“I’ll see you tonight.” She lifted onto her tiptoes and kissed Ash on the cheek.
She took a deep breath, trying to dispel whatever madness Ash had put in her head. Skye Summers didn’t kiss strangers, and she certainly didn’t go out on dinner dates with them, but somehow, Ash had her breaking all the rules and taking chances.
He waved good-bye, and she entered the world of Forest Skye Memorial’s trauma ED.
She had two checkboxes now.
Give back the ring.
Dinner with a stranger.
And who knew? It might turn into something more.
Chapter Five
Skye dreaded havinga conversation with Spencer and decided to deal with him later. She’d mail back his ring and deny him the opportunity to twist what had happened and what he’d done. He’d try to turn the entire situation against her. She’d fallen for his manipulations for too long.
She searched for Bob, hoping he had finished taking care of Spencer's injuries. Luck was on her side. Bob stood by the nurses’ station typing his note into the computer. He rubbed his temples, and then pulled out a medicine bottle from his pocket. A long time migraine sufferer, he tapped one of his migraine pills into the palm of his hand.
“Long shift?” she asked. “I didn’t realize you had worked last night, too.”
“Well, Jenna went into labor early, so I took her shift.” He popped the pill and chased it with a long pull of his coffee. “I’m getting too old for this.”
Unkempt gray hair curled around his balding head. He’d probably tried to finger-comb it into submission, but it refused to be tamed.His haggard appearance had her worried. He’d been pulling too many extra shifts. And the gray scruff of his beard aged him, making him look more mature than his sixty-one years.
An avid sailor, he’d insisted, “Every sea dog worth his salt keeps a respectable beard.”
Her cell phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket and glanced at the screen.Forest!“Give me a second.” She stepped away for privacy.
Her foster brother always knew when she needed to talk. Their bond had been forged in pain, made strong by their shared weakness, and tempered into resiliency, allowing them to survive their shared trauma.
