Lynnette barely kept from dropping whatever she was holding as she spun to see what the hell was happening not five feet behind her. And her eyes blew wide. She haphazardly set down the tablet and half ran around the bed, to the side where Claire—supposedly a certified, registered nurse—was fuckingsitting. On the bed. With a patient. Partiallyon top ofthe patient. Worse, the empty-headed gossip wasn’t sitting just anywhere. She was sitting on his goddamn IV line.
Lynnette didn’t even bother with words or niceties, she just grabbed hold of her colleague by the bicep—which was a nicety, really—and hauled her physically off the bed.
Claire let out a startled yelp, then immediately attempted to tug free and exclaimed, “Hey! What the hell? Let me go!”
Lynnette dragged her all the way to the open door and spun her around as if it was a dance move. “Get out. Go do something useful.”
Rage reddened Claire’s overly made-up face. “You can’t throw me out of a patient’s room! You’re not my boss!”
Lynnette grabbed hold of the door, physically barring Claire’s way back in, and lowered her voice but made no effort to modulate the glare on her face. “I’m the only one here thinking like a damn nurse. If you aren’t interested in working, go home. But what I willneverallow you to do in my presence is cause harm to a patient, do you understand?”
“Harm?” Claire repeated, incredulous and oblivious. “How was I—”
Lynnette slammed the door in her face. It didn’t lock on the patient side, of course, but it was still damn satisfying. She exhaled and kept her hand on the knob for a couple of seconds, waiting to see if Claire would try to burst back in.
Instead, Claire stomped past the window, moving in such a rush that her hair billowed behind her.
Good.They would surely argue more later, but Lynnette didn’t care.
She turned and hurried back to Lance. In his case, at least the IV was really only attached for preventative purposes, but that didn’t lessen the issue. And it took her no time to find that sex-brained Claire had crimped the line so badly it couldn’t pop itself back into shape.
I really should have punched her.
“Damn, sorry,” Lance said. “I didn’t realize she was actually sitting on anything other than me. Which was awkward.”
Lynnette blew out a breath. “You have nothing to apologize for. She was the one behaving inappropriately.” She moved swiftly to detach the line from him, and then from the bag. “I’ll report her, but you are more than welcome to complain, too, if you feel compelled. It’s entirely your choice.”
He hummed. “Are you gonna get in trouble? For putting hands on her?”
Lynnette paused, just for a moment, as she raised a new line to the IV bag. Then she gave herself a shake. “Honestly, I don’t usually work this side, so I can’t say what the doctors’ temperaments are. But beyond them, I doubt I’d get more than a scolding. I was aggressive, she was firmly in the wrong. There’s a difference. And what I did was never going to hurt her.” She threaded the line carefully, not letting herself rush, and carried it to the taped port on the back of his forearm. “I’m actually pretty capable, I know how to grab someone without hurting them. She shouldn’t even bruise.”Unfortunately.
She eased back once she was done and gathered up the ruined line. “Tell me honestly, how do you feel?”
He flexed his arm, drawing her eye to the visible portion of what she knew was an American flag tattoo that descended from his shoulder and down over his bicep in vivid color, to fade away at his elbow. The flag had a subtle ripple in the ink that made it look like it moved for real when he flexed. “Good as can be expected, I think,” he said, then paused. “Well, maybe a touch disappointed.”
Lynnette blinked. “Disappointed?”
He grinned at her. “I might not have minded if it was you who was flirting so brazenly with me.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks and she turned away, striding back for the tablet she’d half thrown down earlier. “I’m not that kind of nurse, Mr. Blackburn.”
Lance groaned. “Again with that?”
“You haven’t earned first-name usage.”
He huffed. “Okay. I’ll be better next time.”
She fought a grin, tucked everything under one arm, and reached for the door before glancing to him one more time. She really wasn’t that kind of nurse, she always had considered it wildly inappropriate to even fantasize that way about a patient, but something about Lance Blackburn tempted her in ways she’d never experienced. Not that she would tell him. “We’ll see. Get some rest. A doctor will check on you soon.” She didn’t wait for his response before slipping into the hall and tugging the door closed behind her.
She needed to dispose of the line, but it still had the crimp from Claire’s damn ass—or knee, maybe—and she kind of wanted to hold on to it for evidence of her claim. Because she was the stranger on this side and no one was going to want to believe her accusation. Though she suspected everyone would believe it, off the record. And that kind of bullshit always ticked her off.
With no better angle, Lynnette started toward the office for their unit’s nurse manager. She was effectively on loan, so she didn’t know the individual. That may or may not wind up working in her favor.
It would be a minute before she found out, because she only made it around the next corner before her nightmare called her name.
“Lynnette,” Bishop said, his voice bouncing on the hospital tile and scratching against her nerves. “I hear we have a problem.”
Shit.Claire had run to him. The damn bitch.
