Page 27 of My eX-MAS Emergency

He cleared his throat. “There’s something you should know.”

“What?” If he was worried about me seeing a deep cut, he needn’t be. Believe me, I’d seen much, much worse. I reached up to loosen the back of his gown, trying not to be taken in by his cologne. My favorite cologne. Or worse, get excited about seeing his bare chest again. I used to think about it as the eighth wonder of the world.

“My tattoo … it … well …,” he was having a hard time articulating. “Never mind,” he said hastily, but he braced himself.

Now I was more than curious. But I knew curiosity could do more than kill cats. It could also stop hearts. Like mine. It quit beating as soon as his gown fell off his shoulder to reveal his tattoo.

Without thinking, I reached out, and my fingers brushed over the dagger on his left shoulder. It was enough to get me fired, but I couldn’t worry about it at that moment. The infuriating man had a blade inscribed with the word CRUSADER. Oh. My. Hell.

My fingers upon his skin made him tense, while goose bumps appeared everywhere. Admittedly, touching him sent a shiver through me.

I wasn’t sure what to say or do. All my medical training went out the window as I stared, mesmerized by my nickname on his back. Perhaps it had nothing to do with me, but I suspected his silence and the way he tensed said it had everything to do with me. But I couldn’t ask him, and nor did he try again to offer any other explanation.

I forced my hand to drop, wondering when he’d been inked. Even more, I wanted to know why he’d chosen to permanently etch something so specific to me upon his skin. It made no sense whatsoever. Did it matter, though? Nothing was going to change between us.

With that in mind, I composed myself the best I could. I grabbed the rolling tray that Lucy had kindly prepared with everything I would need, including the suture kit, Betadine, and shots of lidocaine. I put on the blue latex gloves before removing the blood-soaked gauze Lucy had placed over the wound.

He winced when I peeled it back.

“What happened?” I had to ask. It was part of my job.

“I fell down the damn deck stairs this morning. My back caught on a nail.”

I cringed. “Ouch. Are you up to date on your tetanus shot?”

“I’m not sure,” he responded.

“As a precaution, I recommend we give you one before you leave.”

“Whatever you say, Doc.” Did that sound flirty? He surely wasn’t flirting with me.

I surveyed the ugly cut. “You’re definitely going to need stitches.” He was going to have a nice scar when all was said and done.

“I figured.”

“If you could swing your legs over to the other side, it will be easier for me to stitch.”

He did as I asked while I grabbed the aluminum package with the Betadine swabs to clean the wound.

“So why did you choose emergency medicine?” he asked.

I ripped open the package. The iodine antiseptic smell tickled my nose. “I enjoy knowing I can help people when they need it the most.”

“Sounds like you,” he said fondly.

“How did you like living in Arizona?” he rushed to say, as if he hoped to keep the conversation going.

“Summers are brutal, but I enjoyed living there,” I responded, almost appreciating the small talk. At least it meant I didn’t have to think about the meaning of his tattoo, or that I had to touch him again. I wasn’t sure how to feel about the familiarity between us. It felt so right, but so wrong. Once upon a time, he was my best friend. We could talk for hours together, or even better, enjoy the peace of not having to say anything. It was just enough to be together.

“The Betadine is going to feel cold,” I warned him before going in with the first swab to cleanse the area around the wound.

He gasped like everyone does as soon as it hit his skin.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Are you enjoying this?”

“No.” Did I want to torture him? Sure. But I would rather not be around him. He was confusing the heck out of me and making me break my solemn oath. At least I hadn’t looked at his face. That had to count for something.

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