Chapter 5 Crushing #2
“Why don’t you take a load off and chat with me a bit?” Lance suggested, that grin still plastered to his lips as he patted the edge of his bed. “I won’t bite.” There was a gleam in his eyes that told her he might, actually.
She refused. But the temptation was there, burning beneath her skin.
Lynnette’s eyes snapped open and she gasped out loud, shoving upright. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Had she drifted off so quickly, or— No, that had really happened. When she’d gone in to check on him near the end of her shift. It was a memory. A shameful one.
What was it about Lance Blackburn that lingered in her mind so insistently?
It doesn’t matter. He was her patient. He wasn’t even local.
He literally had one emergency contact, and that contact had only a phone number.
Neither of them had an address. It was entirely probable that Lance Blackburn would disappear from her life, the way most of her patients did, the moment he was released.
Something burned in her chest as she lowered herself back to her bed. Lance was … Lance was someone she might have liked to know, outside of work.
It was a shame they hadn’t met that way.
She shut that thought out, too, and rolled onto her side. Any attraction she felt was just a stupid, inappropriate, surface thing. It would fade. She was mature and responsible enough not to be dumb about it. Even if she did like the way he smiled at her.
The way his eyes followed her, no matter who else was in the room….
She drifted into a sleep of aimless wandering, as if walking through a ghostly battlefield.
Gunsmoke filled the air, echoes of rifle fire and men shouting "run" in her ears.
A sense of urgency built in her the longer she walked, the louder it all became.
Someone else was there—someone who needed help. That was why she was there. Who was it?
Dad? A vision of her father, dressed like she hadn’t seen him since she was little, in his Navy blues with a tight smile on his lips and remorse in his eyes, flashed in front of her. Then it faded.
She moved faster, the rifle fire turning to canon fire as the shouting echoes grew shadows. He was there, on the other side of the ridge just ahead. Barely even a ridge. A small rocky outcropping that provided a sort of natural shelter. He was there, and he was wounded, and she had to save him.
She leapt around the rock, her feet practically skidding in the dirt as more debris crashed overhead, her eyes wildly scanning for any signs of life or movement. And there he was, propped at the shoulder and smirking at her like they weren’t in the middle of a warzone.
“Lance,” she breathed, dropping to his side.
He reached out and trailed his fingers over her cheek. “It’s the thrill of the fight. Risin’ up to the challenge of our—”
Lynnette jerked awake, startled as familiar classic rock steamrolled over the fading sounds of gunfire and outcries. Her heart raced and seconds passed before she thought to silence her alarm. That was… It’d been a dream. A strange, but not so strange, dream.
About Lance. Lance and his stupid, sexy smirk.
That was bad. The fun kind of bad that made her feel a little giddy inside, and guilty at the same time.
Lynnette groaned at herself and swung out of bed to trudge through her morning. She didn’t remember to shoot off a text to Jenna until she was pouring the milk into her cereal, so she ate one-handed and typed up something quick but genuine. At least her anger had ebbed while she slept.
She didn’t hear back from Jenna before it was time to clock into work, and while that was unusual, Lynnette had to remind herself that the bakery was still shut down.
Jenna might have been taking advantage of that to sleep past the sunrise.
It wasn’t even a bad idea. So, she resolved to worry later, set the change of clothes she’d brought with her in her locker, and made her way to her temporary duty station.
Amy’s smile was easy and automatic. “Good morning,” she said as Lynnette approached.
Lynnette offered the warmest smile she had in her. “It will be with like three more coffees.”
Amy laughed. “Totally fair.” She bent down, then hauled up a heavy-duty canister the likes of which Lynnette had only seen when her father had gone on long hunting trips. “I bring extra.”
“You’re a genius,” Lynnette replied. She leaned forward. “So, anything for me?”
Amy set her liquid gold back down and tapped into her system.
“Let’s see … Mrs. Alvers is being released today.
We got a new patient late last night, she’s up from ICU, definitely going to be here a few days.
And the old pervert had a setback, so he’ll be staying another day at least.” She offered Lynnette a sympathy wince.
“Sorry. At least the vet’s still here. He’s not so bad, right? ”
Lynnette did her best to fight off a blush. Since when do I blush at work? She had a serious problem, dammit. “He’s easy to talk to, actually,” she allowed. “I’ll go get to know the new addition, then.”
Amy bade her good luck and Lynnette continued down the first hall.
Despite what she’d said, she opted to pop in on Mrs. Alvers first, just to make sure she gave the woman at least one warm farewell on her departing day.
She didn’t linger, though, and within a handful of minutes she was slipping into one of the previously empty rooms to greet their newest admission.
The female, barely five years Lynnette’s junior at twenty-eight, had been rushed to the ER Monday morning after being found under some rubble according to the file.
She had several areas of scrapes and bruises, but the concern was the heavy impact that had cracked two ribs and the rebar that had penetrated her chest. One of the patient’s lungs had deflated, likely from the weight of the impact, and ironically that had probably spared her from having the rebar stab straight through it.
But it didn’t sound like the surgeons had had an easy time patching her up, and she’d spent a day and a half in ICU post-surgery.
Then again, she was out of ICU less than forty-eight hours after all of that physical trauma, so that was a good sign. It was always important to be optimistic.
The younger woman blinked drowsy eyes open as Lynnette carefully swapped IV bags. She was on oxygen, of course. Her lung would need time to re-inflate after the layers of trauma. And that meant it was hard for her to speak.
Lynnette smiled and stepped more properly into her line-of-sight. “Good morning. Is it Kara or Kara?” She changed her emphasis on the ‘a’ with each use of the name and simultaneously held up one hand, indicating one finger for one and two fingers for the second.
The patient’s eyes crinkled and she raised one arm not quite to elbow height, and held up two fingers. So, it was Kah-ra, like the word car with an ‘a’ at the end.
“Kara it is,” Lynnette said with a nod. She gently caught the woman’s raised hand and gave a soft squeeze.
“I’m Lynnette. I’ll be checking in on you this morning.
” She released Kara’s hand as she spoke and let herself glance down, confirming that a corded call button had been placed within Kara’s reach.
“I see you know where your call button is if you need anything, that’s good.
Can you show me with your hand how bad the pain is? On a scale from one to five?”
Kara’s lips twitched beneath the oxygen mask and she raised her hand again, shakily forming a three.
“Well, that sounds uncomfortable.” Lynnette lifted her tablet to double-check Kara’s file.
There were no notes about refusal of medication, or anything about known allergies.
Then again, the woman had been found by a passerby and brought in by medics, so they’d likely only had whatever information Kara had on her person at the time.
As this was Kara’s first day in the new ward, it behooved Lynnette to verify for herself that the ICU team hadn’t made any egregious assumptions.
Which made it helpful that Kara was conscious, even if the poor woman couldn’t speak.
She looked across at Kara again. “One finger for yes, two for no,” she said, “are you allergic to any medications?” If the answer was yes, they would have to change systems, but it was a starting point.
Fortunately, Kara quickly flashed two fingers. She wasn’t raising her arm as high, but she was making the motion clear.
Lynnette nodded. “Good. Okay. I’m going to get you something for that pain, then. And the doctor will swing by within the hour to check in on you, too.” She patted Kara’s hand. “You just get as much rest as you can, and push that button if you need anything at all.”
Kara rolled her wrist to offer a thumbs-up. It was a small sign that she was still holding on to her spirit, and that was good.
Lynnette took a moment to add a notation to the file, so that future nurses wouldn’t need to waste time re-confirming the allergy question, then hurried from the room to get what was needed.
It took her another forty minutes before she was able to do her first check of the day on Lance.
Not that she was counting.
Lance made a dramatic sound of relief as soon as she stepped into his room. “There’s my favorite nurse. I was getting worried.”
Lynnette eased the door shut and arched a brow at him. “Why on earth would you be worrying about me?”
The smile he offered was even worse than the smirk from her dream. In that it sparked something far too warm, far too deep inside.
“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t?” He made a vague motion to his leg. “Current situation aside, I promise, I know how to step up.”
Lynnette made a show of rolling her eyes before she moved forward to go through her routine of checking the things which needed checking.
Aside from the incident during Sheriff Parker’s drop-in, Lance’s readings had been blessedly stable.
But she knew better than to ever make assumptions or take one afternoon’s good progress for granted.
Out loud, she said, “I can’t tell if that was a terrible dad joke or a not-so-subtle hint that you’ve recently left the armed forces.
” She suspected he’d have the room decked out in whatever awards he’d accumulated if the hospital allowed that sort of thing.
And after seventeen years, she had no doubt he’d earned a few.
Lance chuckled. “Well, no kids, so…”
A low, brief laugh escaped her before she could stop it. As did the question that followed. “Is that on purpose? I always thought Marines getting women pregnant was part of the stigma.”
He laughed louder. “I’m savin’ the good stuff for the right woman, is all I mean. No need to worry.”
She paused, fingers pinched around his blanket as she’d prepared to lift it to inspect his leg, and heat rose to her face at the irony of that alongside their conversation. Yet she still aimed another arched brow at him and managed to ask, “Why would I be worried about your reproductive abilities?”
That earned her the damn smirk she’d almost been afraid to see in person again.
She told herself it did not make her heart beat faster.
“Not making assumptions about your preferences,” he said, still grinning. “Just saying, the option’s still on the table. If.”
Lynnette blinked. “If,” she repeated, her brain attempting to make sense of the single-syllable word.
“Or when.”
Jesus Christ. She ripped her gaze back to the task she’d not completed and swallowed hard as she willed herself not to turn into a tomato.
She liked to present herself as a calm, confident, fairly well experienced and educated woman, but the truth was she’d had a grand total of three boyfriends in her thirty-three years.
Only two of whom she’d ever had sex with.
She had no game. She did not do banter, or flirting. Let alone whatever the hell Lance was doing.
And he’s a patient! Which meant she couldn’t, anyway. Could. Not.
Not that she wanted to. She was just, maybe, a little flattered. Even if his flirting or whatever was almost for certain the result of boredom. He’d forget about her the moment the hospital was behind him.
Her fingers trailed carefully along his wrappings, checking to make sure they weren’t coming apart as much as to make sure nothing had started bleeding or seeping through. But her mind was only half-focused.
Suddenly the strangest thought occurred to her, and she blurted, “Why do you never have visitors?”
He made the low chuckle sound again. “My buddy’s got some other stuff on his plate right now.”
Buddy. Singular.
Lynnette faced him, frowning. “Do you not have anyone else in the area?”
He raised a brow. “Nope. Been in Japan for a bunch of years. Never had family this far west even when I was civilian.”
He was all alone. He had the one friend, who was also recently discharged and apparently swamped with something, and so it was just him. Alone. By himself. In the hospital, with a leg so shredded there was no guarantee he’d ever walk right again.
The notion hit her like a baseball bat upside the head and her heart constricted.
He called her his favorite nurse … and she was scheduled to be off for the day in just a couple of hours.
Lynnette pulled the blanket carefully back into place as dangerous thoughts swarmed her mind.
“Lynn?” Lance prompted. The nickname he insisted on using for her.
She sighed to herself and asked, “What kinds of sandwiches do you like?”