Jacked (Trent Brothers #1)(15)
Was he? A medically induced coma with a breathing tube shoved down his throat was far from being with anyone.
I recalled the words Doctor Wilson had said to me when I’d lost my first patient, “You can’t save everyone, Erin. You have to realize that everything we do here, every patient we care for and treat, is doing nothing but stalling the inevitable.”
“I can’t believe someone stole the plate off your car.”
I figured the less Sarah knew the better so I went with the bare minimum disclosure when I had called her for a ride to work. “Me either.”
She put her car in reverse, backing out of my drive. “Why the hell would somebody do that? People are so messed up. Oh this irritates me to no end. It’s freaking cold outside. What on earth would they need your license plate for?”
After the whirlwind from my traumatic traffic stop this morning, I’d have to guess committing all sorts of heinous crimes would be on the top of their list. “I don’t know. I’ve stopped trying to figure out why people do half the crazy things they do. I’m just glad they didn’t steal my new car. I just have to get another plate.”
Sarah shivered and turned the heater up. “You should have called me earlier. I could have taken you for one. I was awake.”
She was such a good friend. I appreciated her offer but my conscience wouldn’t allow it, especially since she was sitting so close to the steering wheel, her growing belly was almost touching. I banished the horrible image that flashed from thinking about what would happen if we were in an accident. “You should have been sleeping.”
She gave me a quick scan before turning back to the road. “No offense, but you sort of look like you could use some extra sleep, too.”
I shrugged it off, having accepted long ago my constant state of perpetual exhaustion. “Yes, but you have a baby belly to care for. You don’t need to be running around unnecessarily. I’m just grateful you’re here now.”
Sarah scoffed. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I need—more sitting on my ass. Perfect for growing these lovely cankles. My ankles are so swollen, I’m starting to look like my grandma. Would have been nice if someone would have warned me about this shit.” Her little rant turned into a private smile. “I felt the baby kick yesterday.”
“Really?” I couldn’t imagine what that might feel like, nor would I ever, but her excitement about it told me it was one of the best feelings in the world.
Sarah rubbed her stomach. “Yep. Little Brett Junior is getting quite active in there.”
The notion of her actually growing a human being inside her body made me feel a sliver of envy. Our bodies were truly miracles of science. But also knowing firsthand how childbirth could make a completely sane woman do unspeakable things made the envious desire flee with its ass on fire. I swallowed the terrible memories of my youth, barely hiding the crack in my voice. “Is that what you’ve finally decided to name him? I thought Brett hated that idea.”
Sarah shrugged, making a right hand turn at the stoplight. “He does but until he comes up with a better suggestion, I’m calling him Junior. It really pisses him off when I call him Doctor Junior. He says our boy should be his own unique person and not be forced to follow in his father’s footsteps, not that he didn’t follow his own father into dentistry.”
For some reason I thought about Officer Trent, Adam, wondering if his children were following in their father’s footsteps, playing cops and robbers all over the house.
Did Officer Hottie have a wedding ring on? Surely by now some prissy Barbie doll model has gotten her hooks into someone as gorgeous as him. Did he? I can’t remember. Wait, he was wearing gloves. That’s right, black leather gloves. Leather gloves that would probably feel like sinful heaven gliding over my skin. Was he wearing them when he followed me home? Shit, why can’t I remember? Oh yeah, I was mad. Pissed off, actually.
I knew I should really be paying attention to Sarah’s ramblings about her husband’s child-rearing philosophies, but the neglected horny girl who lives in my head and hadn’t been laid in a very long time was fighting me for topics to concentrate on.
I wondered how Adam’s wife would feel about him lending his sweatshirt to some random woman he almost arrested.
If he were my husband, I’d probably be jealous about that. I should have kept it. It smelled wonderful—like man and manly body wash and several other flavors I’d like to roll my tongue over. But thoughts of having his integrity relentlessly questioned by an irate woman made me accept the fact that I made the right decision to give it back. He didn’t deserve that.
As we waited for the light to change, a police car with the telltale blue and yellow-gold stripes of Philly’s finest pulled up next to us, preparing to turn right.
Just being this close to a cop made me squirm down in my seat. Visions of being handcuffed, tossed in some god-forsaken hellhole to do time with other hardened criminals, half of which passed through our ER on their way to purgatory, sent shivers through me.
I should have gone earlier to get a new license plate. I could have called a taxi. I knew Jen was working twelve to midnight from her text this morning and Sarah, she was on the go so much at the hospital I hated taking away from the time she needed to rest. I could only imagine how much being pregnant takes out of you.
No. I made the right decision. She needed to rest and I needed to spend the late afternoon scouring the local news websites on my computer to see if my almost arrest made print rather than sleeping.