Cynthia’s bright eyes twinkle. “She gets her epidurals done so fast, though.”
“Yeah! You hear that, Doctor Foley? I’m the fastest guns in the west.”
I roll my eyes. “You can’t even put in a spinal.”
Her mouth drops open. “Take that back!”
“Not a chance.”
Cynthia’s phone rings. She logs out of her computer and heads toward L&D with a wave, leaving us alone.
Arms still crossed, I face Jocelyn. “You.”
She’s not even repentant. Delight glows in her expression, sparkles in her eyes. “Me?”
Aggravating, hilarious woman.
The six thousand rushes of adrenaline I’ve suffered today are searching for an outlet, and a perfect one stands in front of me, smirking. I step into her space, forcing her to retreat until her back meets the scrub sink and I’m towering over her. “You think this is funny? I almost had a heart attack.”
She pats my chest. “Your heart is fine. I told you I was coming for your throne.”
I shake my head. “You’re messing with the forces of nature here, Jocelyn. You are not winning this.”
The corner of her mouth quirks like she couldn’t care less. “Maybe not, but what good is a throne if it isn’t challenged now and again, Ash?”
Anticipation swirls, and I’m practically giddy. I’m not sure what my next move should be, but it will be epic. “This hospital may not survive us.”
She laughs. “It’s fared pretty well so far.” A beat of silence passes before she cups my shoulder. “Seriously, though, Asher. That was great. Really, really bloody. But great.”
A tiny seed of warmth sprouts deep inside. Feels nice. Comfortable.
Like Joss.
I brush my thumb over her cheek. “Thanks, angel face.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get the spinal.”
“Bet Cassie could’ve done it.”
With an offended huff, she shoves me away right as the automatic double doors around the corner open.
“Doctor Foley?” echoes a voice down the hall.
“Over here,” I call.
Gabriela, the resident who was supposed to help with my C-section, rounds the corner. “Oh, hey.” The woman throws a reserved glance at Jocelyn, who smiles in return. Gabriela turns toward me and places a hand on her cocked hip. “Thought you might still be back here. Heard you were a rock star.”
“Uh... You did?” This is bewildering information. “From who exactly?”
She shrugs. “It’s just the word on the street. Anyway, your patient in labor is getting close. Can I scrub with you?”
“Yeah, sure. No problem.”
“Great! I’ll call you when she’s ready.” With a kittenish smile, she wiggles her fingers, a sort of jazz-hands goodbye, before retreating through the double doors.
Joss laughs. “Oh, did you see that? She wants youbad.”
Wait. Huh?
