Hutch
“Can you get her to stop scowling at me?It’s nerve-racking,” the doctor sewing the cut on the ball of his left foot said.
Hutch looked to his woman who was, indeed, hovering over the doctor’s shoulder and scowling at the back of his head.
“Babe,” he called.
Her eyes jerked to Hutch.
He pointed at the chair beside his bed.“Please sit.”
She scowled harder, then huffed, then stomped to the chair, turned woodenly and plopped her ass in it.
Although she sat, she kept scowling at the doctor.
“You’re gonna need to keep your weight off this,” the doctor said.
“Give me a boot,” Hutch replied.
“Save me from tough guys,” the doctor mumbled.
“He’s a goddamnedSEAL,” Mabel sniped.
The doc’s startled gaze came to her.
Hutch tried not to laugh.
“Fix him,” she ordered.“We have to go to the vet.Someone shot our dog.”
The doctor turned to Hutch.
“Someone shot your dog?”He sounded pissed.
“Yeah,” Hutch said.
The doctor went back to his foot.“I hope you shot them.”
“He did.All five of them.Multiple times,” Mabel informed him.
The good doc’s gaze skittered to her face, and his own paled before he turned to Hutch.
“The gunshot victims who came in before,” he said.“That was you?”
Hutch shrugged.
“He didn’t kill them,” Mabel kept the information flowing.“Hark back to my mention of a SEAL.Flesh wounds.”She turned to Hutch.“We’ll be talking about that decision.”
Christ, his side hurt from not laughing.
“Baby, maybe play it more cool,” Hutch suggested.
She huffed again, slouched in her chair and crossed her arms on her chest.
The curtain opened.
“I’m working,” the doctor snapped.
Harry shut the curtain behind him and strode in.
