Page 22 of Chase

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The day passes in a whirl of information and laughter. After Stella brought me my new uniform and I changed, Bryan gave me a two-hour tour of the hospital. There’s not an inch of Varley Medical I haven’t seen, including the morgue. I suspect he was enjoying being away from his desk and the wrath of Dr. Rivera.

He tells me all about his previously married life and his new one as a single father to four boys. His ex-wife now lives overseas with her new billionaire husband, who sends pennies in child support each month. Anytime Bryan has challenged the payments, he comes up against expensive lawyers and oodles of paperwork.

“She put me off women for life,” he told me. “Just upped and fucked off. But I have my boys, and that’s all that matters. They’re happy.”

“What ages are they?” I ask, my brain trying to compute the logistics of it all.

“Four, twelve, thirteen, and seventeen. I’m not sure what I’ll do when Peter leaves for university next summer. He helps with the childcare of the others when I’m working.”

“It must be difficult; do you not have family who can help?”

“Sadly not. My mother passed away, and my father is in permanent care. Her family has never been interested, so it’s just me and the boys.” He smiled softly. “But I like it that way.”

“And no special someone on the horizon? Woman? Man?” I continued probing, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“Oh, I like you,” he said, turning and placing his hands on his hips. “You’re a little terrier. You’ll get all the gossip. But make sure you keep me up to date with anything juicy.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, annoyed with myself thinking I’d overstepped.

“Don’t be. I can see we’ll have a lot of fun. But no, there is no special someone. I’ve had no time to even investigate that part of my life. Maybe in the future…” His voice faded, and the look in his eye became wistful. “There’s someone out there for everyone, we can only hope we find them.”

As I’m stuffing the last of my uniform into my backpack, my memory of Bryan’s words sends my thoughts to Connor and what we have. We may not have known each other long, but what we have is special. I know that. However, in the back of my mind, there’s a niggling worry that something is missing and I need it to complete the puzzle. What it is, I’m frightened to consider, as my suspicions are not a place I want to go.

I texted Connor twenty minutes ago to say I was ready to be collected. When I walk out into the underground car park, I’m surprised to see a low black sportscar sitting waiting and not the bright-red jeep. My gaze moves to the man leaning against the driver's door dressed in a sharp suit and talking on his phone. Russell’s eyes meet mine, and he smiles; my stomach tightens the way it always fucking does, and my heart sinks. I will my body not to respond to him but like a treacherous whore, a heat warms my cheeks.

“Taxi for Nurse Coleman,” he says, stepping forward, lowering his phone, and inclining a fraction.

“Where is Connor?” I ask him, and he glowers.

“Stuck at the office. He asked me to come to pick you up. Apparently, getting the tube isn’t an option today. This is an important day it seems.”

“It’s okay. I imagine you’re busy. I’ll get the tube.” I turn to walk toward the pedestrian exit, but he reaches for my arm, stopping me mid-step.

“No, I am here to collect you on my brother’s request. You’ll come with me.” My uncertainty around him dissipates with his instruction. I spin to face him, pulling my arm from his grip.

“You do not fucking tell me what to do. I’m taking the underground.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.” I turn to walk away again, only to find myself lifted around the waist and carried around to the passenger door. He holds me steady, strong arms wrapped around my waist so my back is firmly against his chest. I kick my feet wildly, my heel hitting his shin. “Ouch,” he grumbles, pulling open the door and then placing me back on my feet. “Get in.”

“No.”

“Get in, or I’ll throw you in myself,” he warns. I take a step, and he moves in the same direction, holding me prisoner between his body and the open car door. I glare at him, and he grins. “You look even better mad.”

“I’m dating your brother,” I remind him.

“I know, but there is no harm in looking,” he says. “You undress me plenty with those baby blues.”

“In your dreams.” He leans down, placing his lips to my ear. His scent of cinnamon fills my nostrils, and my body tenses. I don’t want to want him; I don’t even like him. But fuck, he calls to me.

“Trouble, you are the star of my wet dreams. I may not be able to touch you, but it won’t stop me fucking you with my eyes. Now, get in the fucking car so I can deliver you to your boyfriend.”

Irritated but beaten, I climb into the passenger seat. He closes the door and locks the car until he walks around to the other side. I pull the handle, but the door doesn’t unclick. The asshole has me trapped. After opening the driver’s door, he shrugs out of his suit jacket then throws it onto the tiny rear seat before getting in. I watch him fold himself into the car, his firm, toned body molding to the seat.

“How was your first day?” he asks casually, starting the engine as if we had had no disagreement and I’m here because I want to be.

“Good,” I reply. “I met my colleagues and the doctor I’ll be working for.”

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