“Thanks, Knox,” Jessie calls after him as she takes his seat at the table. “Who’s Barbra?”
“No one,” I say a little too high-pitched. “How was the ranch?”
“It was good. I love it out there.”
My phone vibrates on the table. I look down to see it’s lit up with several text notifications from two different women. I ignore it and look back up at Jessie, but her eyes are on my phone. “Yeah, it’s pretty great out there. I need to go play some poker with those ol’ ranch hands again soon.”
Her eyes snap up to mine, and her face flushes. She knows she’s busted looking at my phone.
“Yeah, you should,” she responds, then quickly looks away from me. Her eyes explore the kitchen, taking in the new ivory-colored tiles and the old, yellowing oak cabinets. “I should paint the cabinets,” I think she says more to herself than me, but I reply anyway.
“What color?”
“Huh?” She turns, her hazel eyes glowing in the sunset that streaks through the windows.
“What color would you paint the cabinets?” I stand so I can stretch my back again. My T-shirt pulls up, revealing my lower stomach, and I don’t miss her eyes roaming the exposed skin.
“Oh no. I’m not telling you. You arenotpainting the cabinets.”
My lips twitch. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Hawkins. Without consent, of course.”
“Well, I do not consent. Got that?”
“Not right now you don’t, but if you change your mind, all you have to do is say the word.” I wink and walk out of the kitchen, ready for a hot shower and some Advil. “I can do the grout tomorrow. You’ll have a kitchen floor again,” I call from down the hall.
I hear her huff in reply, and I can’t help but smile.
Chapter 10
Jessie
Hannah laughs next to me as an EMT flirts with her. This is the second time our local EMS has brought someone in today, and he can’t take his eyes off her. It’s cute.
I round the corner of the nurses’ station to check on my patient who is waiting to be seen by the doctor. My phone vibrates in my pocket, but I silence it. We aren’t technically supposed to have them on the floor, but it’s been slow today other than the two patients EMS brought in and one elderly man who most likely has gout.
It vibrates again as I visit with my patient. When it goes off for the third time, I exit the curtained room and pull it out. Trey is calling. He knows I’m at work.What could he have possibly done now?
“What, Trey? I’m at work,” I whisper-hiss.
“Dot called me. She fell. I’m on my way now.” I stop so quickly, my shoes squeak on the title floor. The missed calls—they wereher. “She said she’s okay but needs help getting up. She’s in the backyard.”
“O–okay. I’ll be there as fast I can. But she said she’s okay? Does she need an ambulance?”
“She said no, she’s okay. She just doesn’t have anything to help her up.”
“Okay, I’ll meet you there.” Trying not to panic, I quickly fill Hannah in on what’s going on, and she notifies our on-call nurse. She can handle the three patients by herself until someone else arrives. I grab my bag from the locker room, and I’m on the road in under five minutes. I speed to Gran’s house trying not to imagine the worst-case scenario the whole drive. I haven’t heard from Trey again, so she must be okay.
She has to be okay.
I throw my car in park and bail out all in one motion, leaving my bag, taking only my phone. I jog toward the backyard. Gran is sitting in a patio chair, and Trey’s on one knee next to her, handing her a glass of water.
“Gran!”
They both look my way, and Trey stands.
“I’m alright, dear. You didn’t need to leave work. I should’ve called Trey first.”
“No, you should not have. I’m so sorry I missed your calls. I was with a patient.” I bend down in front of her, looking her over for any signs of injury. “How did you fall? Does anything hurt? What’s your pain level on a scale of one to ten? Did you hit your head?”
