Close To Danger (Westen #4)(32)

“No, they don’t.” Again, that aggravating voice of patience.

“Don’t expect me to be as duplicitous as you, Mr. Secret Agent. My whole career is built on people’s trust. Their trust to keep their secrets and to keep what happens between us private.” Again, she stomped back towards him, poking him in the chest. “Now with your little spy game, you’ve destroyed that trust and quite possibly my career.”

“No. I didn’t.”

“You were watching my phone calls and texts.”

“I only focused on those coming from unknown numbers.” He quietly said, wrapping his hand over the finger she’d left square in the middle of his sternum. “Your stalker wasn’t going to use a personal number you could trace, no one on your client list would use an anonymous number. Those are the only texts I read.”

The sincerity in his words and the steadiness of his gaze eased some of her ire.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I knew client confidentiality would be important to an honest lawyer like you.”

She felt her cheeks heat at his words. “Thank you. But what I mean is why did you feel the need to try and help me?”

“Gage was out of town on his honeymoon. Bobby didn’t need the stress with the pregnancy. I saw how skittish you were when you were here for the wedding. Someone needed to keep an eye on you, even if it was long distance.” He slowly rubbed his thumb over her finger.

“But you don’t know me.”

“When I came to Westen I wasn’t looking for anything. Slowly, I became a part of the town. The town became my family. Especially Gage and your sister. So you’re family.”

With a gently tug on her hand he slowly brought her to stand between his legs. He wrapped his other hand around her back, pressing her closer. “Family takes care of each other,” he said before dropping his mouth to hers.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


“How’d you sleep last night, doc?” Steven Janowski asked as he took the seat opposite Dr. Dylan Roberts in the hospital cafeteria.

About two weeks ago he’d joined the surgical department as a scrub technician and a traveling medical temp to help ease the hospital’s manpower shortage. Unlike most new hires, he needed little training. Said he’d worked as a medic for years in the army. Dylan had to admit he knew his way around in a surgery, wielded instruments like a mechanic with highly tuned tools and kept his head in an emergency. All qualities she admired in any coworker.

She liked the big man. His sense of humor—as macabre as hers—helped ease the tension and relax the team when they seemed to need it most. She’d even considered a romantic interest in him for a day. That was, until she saw him eyeing Dr. Richards—the very handsome, very smart and very gay chief radiology resident—one afternoon. Steve, as he’d asked her to call him, caught her watching him, winked and went back to ogling. From that moment on they were friends.

“Luckily the weather kept most of the idiots inside last night and I was able to get a little sleep after that last case. Thank God there’s designated sleep rooms for the residents. And how about you? Did you find somewhere to sleep?” she asked just as he scooped up hot oatmeal.

Steve grinned, like a mischievous little boy with two frogs in his pocket. “Labor and Delivery was almost completely empty. They took pity on me and let me have a birthing room for the night. Closest I ever plan to come to one of those.”

She laughed then zeroed in on the double scoop of scrambled eggs on her plate.

“Good God, how can you eat those?” he asked, staring at her in absolute horror.

“Like this,” she teased, and slipped a spoonful between her lips, making a moaning sound of appreciation as she ate.

“You are a very sick woman. Powdered eggs? Always reminds me of MRE’s I had to tolerate in the field. And you got two…two helpings! Gag me now.”

She washed down her preferred hospital food with a large drink of orange juice. “I’ll have you know powdered eggs sustained me through middle school, high school, college and four years of medical school.”

“You couldn’t eat anything better?” he asked, working on his own breakfast.

She took another bite, shaking her head. “Not really. My sister was working as a beginning teacher to raise me and my other sister after our parents died. We qualified for free breakfast and lunches at school. Chloe, that’s my middle sister, she lived on junk food and processed sugar. I preferred protein, so powdered eggs it was. It was that or go hungry.”

“I was lucky. My mom worked nights and usually made oatmeal overnight in the crockpot, so I’d have something hot when I got up. Living in Wisconsin makes you appreciate hot food in the mornings.”

“Wisconsin. Wow. So this blizzard probably seems like no big deal to you, then, huh?” she asked as she continued her meal.

“Sleet and snow are pretty much the norm back home. That wind was pretty impressive last night, though.”

Buzzing came from her cell phone lying on the table beside her plate. She glanced at it. The ER. She read the text. Two car collision. Four admits. Fractured legs, contusions, no internal injuries suspected.

“Anything we have to hurry for?” Steven asked before gulping down more oatmeal.

“Some ortho cases. Nothing that can’t wait until we finish breakfast.” She went back to her eggs. “As my sister Bobby always said, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”