Protecting What's Mine(10)

“Cannibalism is certainly the most interesting offer I’ve had today,” she said, backing out of the space and steering them in the direction of the highway that paralleled the hospital’s parking lot.

They rode in silence for a few minutes. Linc thought of Nelson and his wife. One minute later, he and Nelson and anyone else working on that car would have ended up as charcoal.

They’d all been extremely lucky.

They exited the highway two stops before Benevolence, and Linc thanked his lucky stars when she pulled into the cracked asphalt parking lot of a diner.

He let her help him inside more out of necessity than flirtation. They settled into a booth with a scarred stainless-steel top and shiny napkin dispenser.

“Wanna tell me about it?” she asked, signaling for the waitress. “We can swap war stories, only make ourselves sound more heroic and good-looking.”

“Dreamy, look at us. People don’t get more good-looking than this.”

“Pfft. Listen, Hotshot, when you’re as attractive as we are, try to have at least a feigned sense of humility. No one likes a beautiful asshole.”

He grinned at her and decided it was possible that he’d finally met his match.

The server, a no-nonsense, end-of-her-shift type, arrived and peered at them over her blue-framed reading glasses. “What’ll it be, kids?”

Dreamy ordered green tea and an egg white omelet with a side of fresh fruit. Linc went for a gallon of coffee, three waters, and the meatloaf with a side of turkey sandwich.

The waitress didn’t blink, but Dreamy smirked. “Must have been quite the calorie burn,” she predicted.

Orders placed, they traded stories of the shift, the call, the victims.

“It was a DUI. The truck driver was shit-faced and didn’t see the construction signs. He just plowed into stopped traffic,” Linc told her.

Her sigh had weight to it. “If Drivers Ed kids had to walk on to an accident scene, no one would ever text or drink and drive again.”

He recognized it. The frustration. The fact that so many of these injuries, so many deaths, could be completely avoided. But there would always be people incapable of making the right choice. They would always hurt someone else. And he, and others like the doctor lounging across from him, would be there to pick up the pieces.

The exhaustion that pushed at his brain started to encroach. He took another hit of very good diner coffee, resisting the urge to guzzle it.

“I know what you’re saying. At least every single one of those people who went home today will drive more carefully.”

“The nurses in the ED were all aflutter over you saving those flowers,” Dreamy said, sipping her green tea that she’d accessorized with a judicious squirt of lemon. “But it sounds like they’re usually aflutter over Chief Sexy Pants.”

“So you do know my name,” he teased.

The eyebrow she arched at him was flippant.

“This your first in-flight intubation?” he asked. She seemed more comfortable talking medicine and calls than the personal. He’d use it to his advantage…when he had more energy.

“Third,” she said, leaning back and draping an arm over the back of the booth.

“Not here though,” he guessed. “I’d remember seeing you on-scene.”

“New in town,” she said.

He grinned and waited a beat or two while she refused to divulge more.

“Military before this for a few years,” she said, finally giving in.

He pointed at her National Guard t-shirt. “So I guessed.”

“Devastatingly handsome and wildly astute,” she said, fluttering her lashes.

Their food arrived, Linc’s plates taking up most of the acreage of the table, and they dove in.

He was still tired. He still hurt. But the food, the company, helped.

When the waitress slapped the check down on the table, Linc’s good hand got there first. “This is our first date. I’m paying.”

“No offense, but this is a terrible first date. You smell like smoke and antiseptic.”

“Aphrodisiacs for first responders,” he insisted.

“I’ll let you pay but only as reimbursement for the chauffeur routine.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

She waited patiently while he fished out cash with one hand.

“Okay, Hotshot. Lead the way,” Dreamy said, sliding out of the booth.

Linc played tour guide on the way into Benevolence, pointing out the high school, the fire station, the little downtown that was much the same as it had been since he’d been born here. Change wasn’t a bad thing. But there was something comforting about the sameness of his hometown.

It was going dark now, and the crickets and peepers were making the most of August’s last hurrah.

While he was looking forward to his dog, his bed, he wasn’t ready for his time with the dreamy doctor to come to an end.

“Turn right here.” He pointed at the next road sign. “Third one on the left.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” she muttered under her breath.

“What? You’ve never seen an incredibly good-looking man live in a renovated gas station?” he teased.

“Something like that,” she said wryly. It made him want to be in on the private joke. “Looks like someone’s excited to see you.” She pointed to the big front window.