Page 7 of Better Late Than Never

A conflict with someone else in the hospital, maybe? One of my subordinates? But that wouldn’t make sense. Though I outranked him, we weren’t in each other’s direct chain of command. I’d send patients to him for imaging, and he’d send results back to me. His department was about as attached to mine as the pharmacy or obstetrics; we communicated and sent patients back and forth, but we didn’t answer to each other. Unless itwasabout one of my subordinates? Or one of his, if he had any?

Utterly delusional wishful thinking had me wondering if this was something personal. The way he’d blushed and stammered, I mean…

Yeah, right. He was probably straight. I wasn’t out. He had no reason to think I’d be receptive to anything.

And, oh yeah, there was that whole rank thing.

What a shame,I thought as I headed upstairs to Radiology. Because I’d had a thing for him ever since I’d checked into this command.

He was close to my age, that much I knew. I’d seen him in his dress whites at a recent change of command ceremony, and his service stripes indicated he’d been in for at least sixteen years. Plus he’d lost the baby face that a lot of the junior enlisted and even some of the senior enlisted guys still had.

Keyword, Connor: Enlisted.

He’senlisted. Off fucking limits.

I rolled my eyes. Yeah, he was off limits, but that hadn’t stopped me from getting tongue-tied over his gorgeous blue eyes. It definitely hadn’t stopped me from wishing the Navy would change the uniform policy and require us to wear covers indoors because then I wouldn’t have to notice his sandy blond high-and-tight.

I shook myself. I was almost to Radiology, and I needed to get my head together. At the very least, not get an untimely and unprofessional hard-on.

Outside the door, I paused for a deep breath, then laughed at myself for being such a dumbass. We were adults. Well past the ages of awkward crushes and ridiculous shit like that. This was probably a professional conversation that he just wanted to have away from prying ears. They happened all the goddamned time.

Steeling myself, I went inside.

HM1 Barlow was nowhere to be seen, but there was a woman in civvies fidgeting in a chair. She gnawed her thumbnail and kept glancing toward the door that led back to the X-rays and other imaging equipment.

She glanced at me, and her eyes widened a little. I flashed her a quick smile, but it didn’t seem to help. Gesturing at the door, she asked, “Did they call you up to…?”

I cocked my head, but then my brain caught up. “No, no.” I shook my head. “I just need to get some paperwork for someone’s reenlistment package.”

The lie worked, and she relaxed, though not completely. I didn’t blame her; her child was probably in the back being X-rayed. Must not have been terribly young if they’d gone in without her, but I knew that anxiety. I’d seen it in my patients, and I’d been there myself as the worried dad at the doctor’s office or hospital.Manytimes.

“You two realize this is your fault, right?”I’d said to my sons last year, pointing at the gray coming in at my temples.

“Don’t blame us.”Landon had shrugged with all the flippancy he’d absolutely inherited from me.“Blame physics.”

The memory almost drew a laugh out of me, but I kept it back so I wouldn’t upset the nervous mother.

A moment later, the door opened, and a boy who was probably nine or ten stepped out. Not super young, but right about the age of“Mom, I can do it—I don’t need you to come with me.”And I knew the instant I saw him that he’d been sent up for a chest X-ray; the puffy eyes and miserable expression spoke of some kind of bug. Then he coughed into his elbow—a painful, rattling cough. Yeah, he had something going on in his lungs. Poor kid.

HM1 Barlow was right on his heels, his expression full of empathy. “I sent the images down to his pediatrician. As soon as he has a look at them, he’ll let you know.”

The woman nodded, trying to both smile at him and grimace sympathetically for her son. “Thank you.” Then she herded the boy out into the hallway. He coughed again, the sound almost making my chest hurt too.

HM1 Barlow cleared his throat, sounding quite a bit healthier than the son but almost as nervous as the mother had looked. When I turned to him, his expression backed it up.

Fuck. This wasn’t going to be a comfortable conversation, was it?

I shifted my weight. Despite the uniform regs forbidding us from putting our hands in our pockets, I almost did just because I was so damn nervous. “You, uh… You wanted to see me?”

“Yes, sir.” He swallowed. “Let’s, um…” He tipped his head toward the small office beside the waiting area, and we went in there.

From here, he’d be able to see through the window if anyone came into the waiting area, but we’d have privacy, especially after he’d shut the door.

Barlow leaned against his desk. He started to fold his arms across his chest, but then dropped his hands to the desk’s chipped laminate edge, where he started drumming his fingers rapidly. “Listen, um…” He cleared his throat again. “This is more personal than professional, sir, but…”

I shifted a little and leaned against the door. “Okay. So… off the record?”

He studied me, then nodded, and he seemed to struggle to look me in the eye. “Yeah. Off the record.” He took a deep breath. “I want to preface this by saying I don’t want to cause any embarrassment or awkwardness, but I feel it’s necessary to bring it up because there are some things you should be aware of.”

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