Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Quinton
Finnegan O’Sullivan lived in a two-bedroom cabin in the hills north of Mission City.
As my headlights crossed the length of the house, the front door opened, and the ginger hunk stepped outside and waved.
I cut my engine and hopped out of the SUV. “It’s cold out. You’ll freeze your balls off.”
Yeah, we had that kind of a relationship.
“You going to warm them up?” He gestured for me to step into his house.
A roaring fire blazed in the hearth, and the woodsy smell of pine permeated the room.
Finn shut the door and then clapped his hands together.
“Yeah, frigid night. I don’t use the fireplace often.
Wood’s expensive and I don’t like what smoke particulates do to our environment.
” He shrugged. “But some nights I just need the reassurance of a fire.” He gestured to my coat.
“You’ll want to take that off if you’re staying for more than a minute or two. ”
Since I was already starting to sweat, I happily removed it and handed it to him. “Somehow, I thought you’d have a dog or cat.”
He scrunched his nose. “I work those damn long shifts, and getting a dog sitter up here would be tough. When Mom and I lived up here together, we had a sheltie. When she died, and Mom moved into town, I didn’t bother to get another pet. I suppose I could have a cat, but I’d worry they’d be lonely.”
“You could always get two rescues.” I stepped toward the fire. “Man, that’s gloriously hot.” I held out my hands. “Hey, when did your mom move to town? She’s a nurse at Mission City Memorial Hospital, right?”
Finn nodded. “Yeah. She didn’t enjoy the drive in the winter and, honestly, she was tired of country living. Things can be harsh up here, and she wants soft and comfortable.”
“She’s a nurse.” I laughed.
“Yeah, well there is that. Can I get you something to drink? I have water, pop, milk, and every tea imaginable. Beer too, but—”
“Yeah, no booze. A green tea would be great.”
“Sure.” He headed toward the kitchen. This room was just one large space with the living room dominating one half, a substantial dining room table in one corner, and the kitchen against the far wall.
I gazed around the entire space. “Bedrooms in the back?”
“Yep. Two of them. One very masculine and one with flowers and pink. I don’t want Mom to think I’ve replaced her, so it stays as it’s always been. Maybe one day…” He plugged his electric kettle into the wall.
I pointed to the loft space. “That must be amazing.”
He grinned. “View of the forest. Very peaceful. Eastern exposure, so I sometimes see the sunrise.”
“Ugh. I only see sunrises if I have to.”
He laughed. “Yes, that was Mom’s perspective as well. I like to go up there and—” He stopped.
I arched an eyebrow.
“Well, it’s complicated.” He turned away and headed to a cupboard. He pulled down a box of tea and rifled until he found the one he was clearly searching for.
“Complicated?” Slowly, I advanced toward the kitchen.
He pulled down a mug. Then turned to meet my gaze. “A guy’s got to have some secrets.”
My senses went on high alert. It’s not that simple, is it? Is he hiding something in the loft?
He chuckled again. “Nothing interesting, I promise.” He pressed his fingers to his left temple.
I strode to him. “I haven’t even asked how you’re doing. Open your eyes.” I didn’t have a penlight, but I’d at least be able to see his pupils.
“I’m fine, Quinton. CT scan came back clear.”
“There could still be a slow bleed or swelling.”
“Sheesh. Way to reassure a guy. They did an MRI as well—to be safe. I’m really okay.”
“When do you see the neurologist for a follow-up?”
He rolled his eyes. “Day after tomorrow unless the headache gets—”
“What headache?” I might’ve snapped that.
“The one you’re giving me by asking so many questions. Honestly, Quinton, I’m okay.”
“Something the typical stubborn male would say.”
He burst out laughing. “God, you sound like Mom. Most men are stoic until they’re in pain and then they’re babies.”
“Your mother’s a smart woman.”
“She’s the best.” He feathered his fingers through his hair. “And I would never dishonor her by not being honest with my doctor. I’m off duty for the next week until I get the full okay. Which super sucks because we’re down people after today. All our on-call folks are being called in.”
“Do you want to talk about what happened?”
His eyes darkened. From navy to almost black in just an instant. “No.” Then he rubbed his face. “The kid died.”
“Oh shit. I’m so sorry.” I dealt with death all the time at the hospital—but that didn’t make it any easier. Especially when watching a kid die.
“They said she never regained consciousness. So at least she didn’t suffer. But with those burns—” He swallowed hard. “She wouldn’t have had anything resembling quality of life. I don’t want to say it’s a blessing—because it isn’t—but her life would’ve been a living hell for years to come.”
I hadn’t dealt with many burn patients—those with injuries that severe were sent to Vancouver.
But I had patients who came in for follow-up care.
Like Adam. He’d landed under my care when he hadn’t taken care of himself and a urinary issue had become serious.
Now he and Dean were together—and married—he was doing much better.
Still, if I heard about a burn patient, I thought of him. “That’s really sad.”
“I should’ve been able to save her.” Finn closed his eyes and pressed his palm to his forehead. “Just…I honestly thought we’d cleared the house. I was wrong.”
Since I knew nothing about firefighting, I couldn’t comment intelligently. Instead, when the kettle whistled, I unplugged it. “Are you having a mug?”
“I was thinking hot chocolate.”
“Dude, you have hot chocolate and you were offering me tea?” I put on my most affronted pout.
He laughed. “I usually do milk with my hot chocolate, but the water’s boiled.”
“Point me to the container.” After he did, I set about making two mugs of hot chocolate with heaps of powder. Likely overdoing it, but I really didn’t care—tonight called for comfort.
We settled on the couch before the fire.
He sighed. “I always wanted to be a firefighter. I mean, I did my degree in electrical engineering at BCIT and then went to the JI to sturdy firefighting.”
I struggled to keep up. Engineering degree at the British Columbia Institute of Technology and… “JI?”
“Justice Institute. In New West.”
“Ah. That’s so cool. I never knew any of that when we were growing up.”
“You just saw the soccer player.”
“Well, at least you didn’t play football. That would’ve been just a little too jock for me.”
“Head injuries and CTE are a thing. With a nurse for a mom, that wasn’t even in the realm of possibility. Soccer to stay in shape and then off to higher education.”
I slapped his washboard abs. “You stay in shape.”
“Some guys don’t take it as seriously as I do. I don’t want to, for a single moment, not be able to do whatever needs to be done.”
“You’re diligent.”
His face shuttered.
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be. You didn’t fuck up today. You didn’t let some young girl die.”
I wanted to ask if he could’ve done things differently.
If another outcome might’ve been possible.
But that way led to madness. Likely, he was already playing all the what if scenarios in his mind.
Still, I didn’t have the information I’d come to attempt to secure. “Did they run blood tests on you?”
“What?” He blinked. “Yeah.” He yanked up his sleeve to reveal a tiny strip of tape and a wad of cotton. “Sheesh, I totally forgot.” He ripped it off now and wadded it into a ball. “I’d throw this in the fire, but it’s plastic and that’s bad.”
I held out my hand.
He dropped it in. “Under the sink.”
“No worries. Do you want more hot chocolate?”
He eyed his mug. “I haven’t finished what I’ve got. But feel free to get more if you want it.”
“I might just do that. Can I borrow your john first?”
“Hell, yeah.” He gestured vaguely over his shoulder.
I took my mug to the kitchen, plugged the kettle back in, threw the bandage in the garbage, and headed into the bathroom.
As tempted as I was to rifle through his things, I wouldn’t have known what I might be looking for.
Well, except drugs. And Finn struck me as way too smart to keep them accessible—especially if his mother ever came to visit.
So I pissed, flushed the toilet, washed my hands, and hustled back into the kitchen.
I arrived just as the kettle boiled. “Thanks for this. I had a full dinner at Fifties and yet I’ll always have room for hot chocolate. ”
“Oh, yeah? Were you alone or with someone? Not that it’s any of my business.” His tone was just a touch wry.
“If you must know…” I smiled to myself. “I was on a date of sorts.”
“Really?” He whipped his head around and stared at me across the back of the couch. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone. Is it serious? Who are they? Because you’re still bi, right?”
“Yep, still bi. Leaning toward men these days, though.”
“And his name?”
I mixed the hot chocolate with the hot water. “Dr. Leopold Rodgers.”
“Doctor?” He laughed. “Oh, Quinton, seriously? I hope he’s a dentist or something.”
“My dentist is Cameron Johns. Cute guy—not my type.”
“I didn’t think you had a type.” He tracked me as I returned to the couch.
“He’s a surgeon.”
Finn barked out a laugh. “You’re always going on about how arrogant doctors are. Surgeons in particular.”
“I’m not that bad.” Somehow, this conversation had turned uncomfortable. I hadn’t realized how much I apparently complained.
“Well, you sort of are. I mean, I bitch about cops who are too good to do the hard work, so there’s that.”
A story for another time. I’d met at least one arrogant cop in my time working at the hospital.
“Why were you asking about a blood sample?” He stretched his arm.
“Just making sure we did our due diligence. Did you get the results?”
He squinted. “I think the doc said everything was fine.”
“Dr. Medina?”
“Yeah. She’s great.”