The Perfect Match (Blue Heron #2)(77)

“Great,” said Tom. “I have absolute faith in you.”

“Cool!” she said, turning on the water. “Washing hands, check. Pleasant demeanor, supercheck. So what happened, Mr., um, Barlow?”

“My fiancée punched me,” he said.

“OMG! That’s horrible!” She turned to Honor. “Are you his mother?”

“No!” Kill us now, said the eggs. “I’m the fiancée.”

Tom grinned. If she’d felt sorry about hitting him, it was fading. Fast.

“Really? Mr. Barlow, do you mind if she stays?”

Tom pondered the question. Honor sighed. “You’ll protect me, won’t you?” he asked, smiling at the tiny doctor.

“Totally! Yeah! Plus, I can always call Security?”

“Then I feel safe.” He cocked his good eyebrow at Honor as Dr. Chu pulled on exam gloves. “So sixteen when you started college, eh? I bet you’re really smart.”

“Not to toot my own horn? But I did graduate first in my class at Stanford.”

“Congratulations,” he said. “That’s incredible.”

“Thanks! So let me get to work here. Um, she punched you? Is that all? Like, how did you get this cut?”

“From her engagement ring.”

“Wow. So ironic,” Dr. Chu said.

“You’re telling me.”

The two shared an adorable smile.

“He was teaching a boxing class and asked me to hit him,” Honor said. Dr. Chu didn’t so much as flicker a glance in her direction, too busy lifting the gauze off Tom’s eye.

“Awesome! That’s some cut! Plus I think you’re gonna have a black eye! Kind of sexy, hopefully?”

“Whatever you say, Doctor.” His crooked tooth flashed, making him look like an incredibly appealing, adult version of the Artful Dodger from Oliver Twist.

“Awesome! So, like, let me get stitching, okay?”

It was clearly the best day of Dr. Chu’s brief life. “Suture kit, check. Sterilizing the field, check! This is fun.”

“I love a woman who loves her job,” Tom said.

“I totally love it! And what do you do, Mr. Barlow?”

“I’m a professor of mechanical engineering.”

“That rocks! Okay, this is gonna sting. So sorry about that. Sympathetic attitude, check.”

“Very sympathetic indeed.”

“Supercheck, then!” Dr. Chu giggled, then raised a needle of painkiller to inject under the cut.

Guilt wasn’t an emotion Honor was used to.

Honor looked at her hand. It was slightly swollen, which she supposed she deserved. It was also the first time she’d ever hit someone in her entire life.

Well, no. She’d smacked Dana, hadn’t she? She was building quite the reputation.

“Do you have a regular doctor?” Dr. Chu asked. “He or she can take out your stitches in about a week. Or I can totally do it! You just have to come back here. I can give you my number if you want to see when I’m on duty.”

Tom glanced at Honor. “You can go to Jeremy,” she said. “He’s a family friend.”

“I’ll do that, then,” Tom said.

“Sure! Just look at these gorgeous sutures, right? Listen, it was so nice meeting you!” Dr. Chu said. “I’m just gonna ask my attending one thing, okay? I doubt we need X-rays, but I want to be supersure.”

“Thank you,” Tom said.

“You’re totally welcome! Back in a flash!” She practically skipped out.

Honor forced herself to look at her fiancé. “Not bad,” she said. Dr. Chu’s stitches were small and neat, for all that she talked like a love-struck tween.

“Good. Such a pretty face, I’d hate for it to be ruined.”

“I’m really sorry. As I believe I’ve said fifteen or twenty times.”

“Don’t worry about it. Sorry I put you in that situation.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the floor.

Out in the hall, they could hear the noise of the hospital, the clatter of gurneys and the hiss of the automatic doors. A baby was crying.

“Why were you so scared?” Tom asked unexpectedly.

She shrugged, her heart rate surging once more. “I don’t know.” She started to speak, then stopped. “I was mugged once. He, um, shoved me in a doorway. Just like your little scenario.”

His eyebrows jolted upward. “Are you bloody joking?” he said. “That would’ve been really good to know.”

“You didn’t ask. And I didn’t think to mention it.”

“Why the hell not? I wouldn’t have pretended to be assaulting you if I’d known that, Honor! Why didn’t you say something?”

“I don’t know! Don’t yell at me. It was a long time ago, in Philly when I was in grad school. He grabbed me, asked for my purse, I gave it to him, he left. He had a gun, so I just did what he said. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“You were held up at gunpoint, but it wasn’t a big deal?”

“You can stop yelling anytime, you know. I thought you Brits were all about keep calm and carry on. And don’t tell anyone I was mugged,” she added in a softer voice. “No one else knows.”