Chapter 7
HARLOW
“Harlow. Come quick,” Shay yells from the front of the ER.
This has me on high alert, my skin growing cold as I freeze, my feet feeling rooted to the floor. Shay never yells. She’s honestly cool as a cucumber. I love what I do in emergency medicine, as well as in the field as a Guard medic, but I’m averse to change. Keep me in surroundings where I feel comfortable and that’s where I perform my best. But Shay can bounce from the general admission floor to the ER, or even the ICU, without batting an eye.
Running in her direction, pulling Gretchen’s oversized lab coat around my exposed midriff, I find ER room fourteen full of commotion. From this angle, all I see is a large shirtless form lying on the stretcher. Gretchen has secured an IV and appears to be pushing medication, while Dr. Robertson paces about the room with the hospital zone phone to his ear.
For as frantic as the situation appears, it seems they have plenty of manpower. I attempt to seek out Shay, to determine what was so pressing that I needed to come quick. My eyes land on three men huddled in the far corner of the room, one appearing pale and another wiping a shaky hand across his forehead. They’re quiet as church mice, their backs almost against the wall as if they’re trying to stay out of the way. As my mind clears, I realize they’re wearing construction uniform pants and white shirts. Like the guys outside. My head spins and while I still can’t see his face, I find the man on the stretcher in front of me is wearing tan, construction style boots.
My hand flies to my chest, realizing one of them has somehow gotten hurt on the job. And by the way my coworkers are running about, this isn’t a minor injury.
“Sadie’s going to cover your patients.” I turn to find Shay standing beside me. Again, she doesn’t look terribly alarmed. But I have a feeling the place could be burning down around us, and she’d wear a similar expression.
“Why would Sadie need to?—”
“Oh, girl. You can’t miss this.”
“What?” I’m totally baffled.
“I’ve just gotten off of the phone with the orthopedic surgeon. He’s on his way. By all counts, you’re pretty lucky the wrist fracture appears to be the worst of your injuries,” Dr. Robertson advises the patient from his bedside. “I was shocked to find the CT scans show no injury to your skull, brain, or spine. But that wrist needs to be reset.”
A patient care technician quickly pulls up the patient’s chart on the bedside computer and opens the image of the angulated broken bones of the wrist. I can’t help but cringe at the unnatural angle of the bones on the screen.
“Once Dr. Davis arrives, we’ll give you some sedation in addition to the pain medication you have on board, so he can align the bones long enough to immobilize the wrist.” He points to the two angulated broken bones on the screen. “You’ll likely have to have it surgically repaired, but we need to ensure there are no issues with circulation or nerve damage by aligning the bones before you go to the OR. Allowing it to stay out of place for too long could cause long-term damage.” Dr. Robertson steps away, and my gaze connects with Shay, who taps her finger on her chin, her countenance more than a little peculiar.
I inch closer, my curiosity killing me, until I see the dark blond hair and gasp. I spin to face Shay, my mouth hanging open in horror. “What happened?” I barely recognize my own voice as it cracks with emotion. I don’t know this man, but somehow feel connected to him. How’s that possible?
“From what I gather, he fell off of the scaffolding.” She points to his coworkers in the corner. “The guys said that a cat had made it up onto the platform. Before anyone could grab the stray, it had gone over the edge and was hanging on for dear life. And apparently, your hard hat hottie went over after him.”
My hand flies up to cover my mouth, my breaths against my open palm shaky.
Gretchen comes back to his side and advises she’s giving him a sedative because the surgeon is here and will be reducing his fracture shortly. She turns to look at me. “He’s a big boy. This could take a few doses.”
Moving a bit closer, I stop as our eyes connect. Oh, my god. It’s really him. This poor thing. I instinctively place my hand over his in a feeble attempt to comfort him. Between finally seeing his gorgeous face up close and personal, mixed with all the flirty behavior, and it’s like my nonsensical brain has decided I do know him somehow. “Hi.” My speech trembles to the point I barely recognize it as my own.
Green. My hard hat hottie’s eyes are a brilliant green.
“Hi,” he replies. His voice is deep and sexy, just as I dreamed it would be. Despite the fact he’s lying here in pain. “It’s my mermaid.” A broad smile crosses his face, but his eyes are glassy and unfocused. He’s likely talking out of his head from all the medication.
My head snaps up as loud snickers echo around me, not just from the nurses and techs, but from his coworkers as well.
My body goes rigid at their callous laughter, and I turn at an angle, hoping to shield him and keep our conversation more private. I hate everyone is making fun of him after he got hurt during such a heroic act. “What’s your name?”
“Harrison. But you can call me Harry.” The dreamy look on his face doesn’t waver. And now I’m as bad as the rest of them.
Looking over my shoulder, I give Shay a bemused look. She’s wearing an infectious smile as she mouths “Harry the Hard Hat Hottie.” I shake my head, biting my lip so as not to laugh out loud myself.
“It’s you. My mermaid.” In an instant, his wistful expression suddenly falls serious. “Wait… Did I die? Is this heaven?”
More guffaws come from about the room. I’m not certain I understand what he’s saying, but that’s fairly typical of patients who’ve received strong medications of this sort. Based on this crazy conversation, I’m not so sure he’s going to need as much sedation as Gretchen thinks.
“Dude, you need to zip it before you embarrass yourself,” one of the men from the corner snorts.
“Too late,” another adds.
“Are you kidding? Keep talking,” the third blurts as he pulls out his phone.
Returning my gaze back over my shoulder, I give Shay a knowing look before she jumps into action.
“All right, fellas, time to go. We’ll let you know when he’s ready for visitors.”
“Damn, and it was just getting good.”
Harry turns his hand over, his large palm engulfing mine. “Hi.”
This time I can’t help but giggle. “We’ve already done that. Is your pain better?”
“What pain? Come closer,” he pleads.
Nervously, I slide a bit nearer to him, my ear hovering close to his mouth.
“What color are your panties?”
I bolt upright in shock, hoping I heard him incorrectly.
“What’s the matter?” Shay asks as she comes to stand beside me.
“I think he’s probably had enough Versed,” I whisper. “He’s talking out of his ass now.” I laugh.
“What did he?—?”
“Hi there, Harrison. I’m Dr. Davis. I’m the orthopedic surgeon. Dr. Robertson said he’d gone over everything with you. But we’re going to need to get the bones in your wrist realigned and put a temporary splint on there until I can get you to the operating room.”
“Okay.”
I’m surprised he’s able to respond, given how he was talking a moment ago. Harrison. I like that name. I glance over my shoulder as Patrick wheels in the cast cart. Dr. Davis continues to review the treatment plan and asks Harrison when the last time he had anything to eat or drink. He’s able to confirm he hasn’t had anything today because he was running late to work, had a flat tire, and missed her again. Whatever that means.
Gretchen has him sign a consent form for treatment, and I have to wonder how alert he is to be signing anything binding.
“You’ve had a rough day all around, it sounds like,” Dr. Davis teases.
“Nah. This morning was bad. I missed her again.” His expression is so sad it tugs at my heart. Who did he miss? “But now she’s here!” he blurts excitedly.
“Who’s that?” Dr. Davis asks.
“My mermaid.”
Um, what?
“Are you sure he’s okay to sign that?” I lean in, quietly asking Gretchen so as not to get her into any hot water.
“Oh, we went over everything before we gave him any medication. We knew where this was going when we saw how deformed his wrist was. To be honest, I thought sure he’d have a head injury or broken neck. I kept waiting for the shock to set in, but he was very articulate. He said he was good with whatever we needed to do.”
“Ah. Okay. Just making sure after the whole mermaid thing.”
“Do we need to give him a little more medication?” Dr. Davis asks Gretchen.
Really? He seems loopy enough.
“I’m fine. Honest,” Harrison answers, his voice thick. My eyes hold his, and he uses his good arm to wave me over.
“Someone has a fan.” Gretchen laughs.
Crossing to the other side of the stretcher, I lean down so he’ll lie back and relax. “What do you need, Harrison?”
“You.”
A flush immediately creeps from my cheeks down my neck. He might be right. Don’t think this guy needs any more pain medication. The thought has barely left my mind when I feel the back of his hand skim over my exposed belly. My skin prickles with heat, instantly covered in goosebumps. I suck in a breath at his unexpected touch, but don’t pull away. A crackle of electricity travels between us, and I can’t help but look to his handsome, rugged face.
This endearingly flirty man has a sharp jawline dusted in gorgeous dark stubble, and his dark blond hair is perfectly disheveled. I can only imagine it’d look like this following a romp in the hay. Picturing this bronzed god in my bed has me practically swooning. What I’d give for that kind of afternoon delight. My thighs clench at the thought, and I inwardly scold myself for allowing it to take center stage in such a public place.
His hypnotic, mossy-colored eyes stay laser focused on the visible flesh of my abdomen, just before his fingers move to my arm. Harrison slowly and deliberately trails the pads of his fingertips over my tattoo before glancing up at me. “Beautiful.”
Sheesh. Why can’t anyone talk to me like this when they’re sober?
“Stay with me? Please?” His eyes are mesmerizing. How on earth could anyone say no to that?
I turn to Gretchen, who nods, wearing a comical grin. She draws up a little more medication. I’m sure it’s to have it at the ready if he’s still in too much pain when Dr. Davis attempts to set the fracture. Because something tells me he’d never act like this if he wasn’t heavily sedated. Would he?
“They’re blue, right? Or green? Blue green?” he asks.
As his eyes examine mine, I have to bite the inside of my cheek. He’s appreciating my eye color just as I had his.
Suddenly, a thought hits me. I stretch to look over his magnificent torso until I find his left hand. I don’t see a ring. There’s no tan line. Do construction workers wear wedding rings? Maybe it’s too dangerous. Dr. Davis gets situated next to Harrison, holding his wrist carefully in his hands, and I squeeze his right palm a little tighter in preparation for what’s to come.
“Hi,” Harrison repeats.
I can’t help but look away at his drunken antics now. This whole interaction reminds me of the meet cutes I read in romance novels.
If only.
In my periphery, I see Dr. Davis aggressively jerk his hands as he aligns the deformed wrist.
“Ooouch.” The word comes out sloth like.
“Oh, my god. He’s so cute,” Shay whispers over my shoulder.
“Shay, can you come and help hold Harrison’s wrist while Dr. Davis places the splint?” Gretchen asks. “I’ll call x-ray and have them come back for a post reduction film, Dr. Davis.”
“Thank you. We might have to admit him to the orthopedic floor and take him to surgery this afternoon. The OR appears to be booked solid this morning. Has anyone been able to reach his family?”
Family? Of course. Why am I sitting here all googly eyed over this hard hat hottie when he’s likely got a wife or significant other out there that has no idea he’s been hurt? Gathering my senses, I immediately sit back, attempting to withdraw my hand from his when he swiftly clamps down on it like I’m his life preserver about to drift away at sea.
“I’ve already contacted them. They live out of state but said they’d get here as fast as they could,” Gretchen adds.
Out of state? I’m so confused. Turning to look at him, I find his eyes are closed. Carefully, I try once again to slide my hand out of his when his lids fly open.
“Don’t leave.”
“Harrison, the procedure is over. They’re putting a splint on you and then you can rest for a bit. They’ve called your family, and they’ll be here soon.” Guilt washes over me as I recall the flirty way we’ve smiled at one another lately. Innocent or not, I know I wouldn’t appreciate my husband doing that with another woman. My mind harkens back to Stewart, and his philandering, and my spine stiffens, wondering if this man is just the same. Setting his sights on fresh prospects while he’s away from the nest.
Probably.
His face scrunches before he breaks out into a fit of laughter. “Nah.”
I’m immediately relieved we ushered out his co-workers. Something tells me they would’ve used this against him for years to come.
Two radiology techs approach the room with a portable machine. I decide to take this opportunity to return to my patients. I’m not sure I want to be sitting here holding his hand when his family arrives.
As I again try to pull away, he clamps down harder, almost painfully so. “They need to get an x-ray, Harrison. I can’t be in the room for that,” I cajole as I attempt to peel his fingers off of my hand. “It’s not safe for me to stay.” I’m hoping this will encourage him to free my hand.
“Oh.” He looks so sad. This guy really is a mess.
I step into the hallway beside Shay as Sadie comes to join us. The three of us break out into a fit of hysterics.
Shay doubles over, gripping her knees. “What just happened?” She laughs.
“I have no idea. But he’s the cutest thing ever.” I cover my mouth to try to stay professional, but fail miserably.
“You know it has to be true love, right?” Shay says with a straight face.
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“Look at you.” She cackles.
My eyes drift down to find my belly exposed under the boy band crop top and a lab coat large enough the three of us could wear simultaneously, and I lose it. But before I can get lost in Shay’s antics, a flash of red flies in front of us.
“Harry! What on earth happened?”
I immediately recognize her and cross my arms over my midriff, digging my hands into my sides in embarrassment. She’s the gorgeous woman from the other night at The Wild Shrimp.
“Who’s that?” Leaning into me, Sadie asks.
“His wife, maybe?” Shay answers cautiously.
Guilt. Oh, the guilt. It was all in fun. We didn’t do anything that bad. But I still feel gross. Dressed like a circus clown, overcome with shame, I turn my face away to gather my composure. I need to get back to work.
“I fell. Broke my wrist. How’d you know I was here?”
“Ellie called me. She asked if I could come sit with you until they could get here.”
Is Ellie his wife? Then who is this?
Deciding to walk away before I get any more tangled in this crazy web, I look to Sadie and nod. “Time to get back to my patients. Thanks for covering for me.”
She gives me a solemn look.
“It’s game over, Char,” Harrison says, sounding more alert than he has since I walked into his room. The Versed must finally be wearing off.
I can’t help but look in their direction one last time before heading back to my station. Curiosity getting the best of me.
“It’s game over. And I’m ready for it.”
The stunning redhead by his side abruptly glances over her shoulder in my direction, and her lips part as if in shock. Humiliation washes over me as I stand in this ridiculous getup. I have no idea what just happened. Innocent or not, I need to get some distance between us. Before he utters anything else this woman could connect with me. Something that could unknowingly bring harm to him.
Or to me.