“I doubt that.” He huffs out a breath, but his smile is kind as he looks down at himself.
Since the other wounds have healed, he’s out of the hospital gown and in his own clothes—gray sweatpants and a black fitted top. Both leave very little to the imagination as they stretch across him. Still, he looks comfortable, whereas when I get out of my scrubs, I’m in baggy clothes all day. Nana says I detest the feel of fabric on me, so I wear them so loose that they feel more like draped sheets covering my body than anything else.
I reach out and touch his arm. It’s brief, but I swear electricity zips through my body from the small contact.
“Trust me.” I pull away to keep myself from thinking about moving any closer than I need to. “If I really didn’t want to be here, I could have asked another nurse to take over. I’m sure Nurse Vicky wouldn’t mind.”
The shudder that racks his body has me laughing outright, turning more than one head in our direction, including the notorious Nurse Vicky herself. She might haveheard the termbedside manner, but I doubt she’s ever used it.
She gives the care that’s needed but has no warmth. She’s efficient, if not cold. That’s probably why the hospital keeps her around. We can’t all be the sunshine type; sometimes we just need the competent ones to do the job and not stop to talk all day.
And yeah, we have the talkers here too. Sometimes I wonder if they even realize that the paycheck is for the care they give and not the gossip they feed.
“Anything but that,” he says as he looks over at her and gives another deep shudder. She’s with another patient, who’s slowly trying to wheel himself away from her.
“Guess you’re stuck with me, then.”
He turns back with a head roll my way and doesn’t smile, but I feel heat in his gaze as he holds mine before he speaks. “Doesn’t seem so bad.”
My heart flutters, and we sit staring at each other for I don’t know how long. Long enough for Mad Max to come over, it seems.
“General texted. Lab’s free.”
I blink out of the trance I was in and nod at the large man who seems to take away parts of the sun. He’s just one of those types that are broader than necessary. He’s built like a mountain and talks about as much as one.
“Want me to take him?”
“I got it.” He’s already behind Karter before I rise from the bench.
I know he knows where it is since he’s been there many times. I would push him, but again, Karter is a specialcase, and he has special privileges. Still, I walk slightly behind them to keep protocol intact.
“What’s on the menu tonight?”
It takes a second to realize Karter is asking me when Mad Max looks at me with an inquisitorial look.
“Oh, um, I chose the broccoli chicken casserole.” Yeah, I still complain about my meals to him. He doesn’t seem to mind, and it’s neutral territory for us. Something I will forever remember when I put a microwavable dish in for dinner for all the future nights to come.
“That the one with the peas?”
“No, that was the fettuccini one. The peas were soggy and mushy, which made the noodles turn a light green. Not the best one for sure. This one shouldn’t turn anything a different color.” At least I hope not. It’s broccoli. You can’t mess up broccoli. Of course, last week I thought the same about peas.
“You need cooking lessons,” Mad Max mumbles, and I look at him out of the corner of my eye.
“I took them.”
“What happened?” This from Karter as we take a turn down a hallway.
I shrug. “Everything turned green. And there weren’t any peas.”
Both men laugh at my expense, and I’m not sour about it. It’s not their fault that I’m horrible in the kitchen beyond the basics.
“You need to hire a cook,” Mad Max grunts with a shake of his head.
I nod in agreement. “Might be cheaper than delivery charges.”
“You just need a man to take care of you,” Karter murmurs as I push the wheelchair button and the door swings open to the labs.
I stop just on the other side of the door, knowing they’ve reached their destination and I’m no longer needed.
