“You be sure you do everything they say. I know you. You’re smart and have the sass. While that works here, it might not work out in the field.”
“I’ve been in the field before. I can handle it.”
“Good, then you can march down the hall and handle that hulking Lieutenant that’s standing in my ER. He wants to talk to you. Make it fast. He’s affecting the hormone level of the staff. Something about his muscles, his dark stare, and all his badassness.”
Cait’s body tightened in both good and bad ways, and she prayed to every holy deity that she hadn’t gone fainting pale. She forced a smile. “Will do.”
Jo closely studied her. “Problem?”
“Nope. I need some coffee, though. It’s been a long day,” she lied, determined to keep her personal insanity to herself.
Jo gave a small knowing grin and started back the way she’d come. “The day is still young, Doctor,” she called over her shoulder. “Come along. I’ll get you and the LT some poison in the break room.”
“The day never ends around here,” she called after her. “It can’t be young.”
“There’s the sass.”
She scurried to catch up. A buffer. She’d have a buffer. Thank God!
The buffer only lasted until she’d put cream in her coffee, turned while stirring, and lost her sense of self in the heated look in Hunt’s green eyes. Never mind the scruff across his face, the tiredness in those eyes, or the new scar on his forehead, the reality of the man was better than her dreams. Hunt’s dark hair was cut close to his head, and he wore a clean Navy camo uniform that looked lived in.
Emotion jammed in her throat. Where she stood half a room away, his presence in the doorway electrified zillions of nerve endings, and she couldn’t pry her eyes off him. Within seconds, he shut down. The dullness in his face grated.
Jo handed over the iPad with a neat little list of all the equipment, walked to the door, pushed Hunt into the room to the table where his coffee sat, and disappeared.
“Lieutenant.” Okay, that sounded too stilted, but what did you call a one-night stand? It shouldn’t be “honey” no matter what the naked tango implied.
“Captain.”
She couldn’t read his expression. She was too busy trying to control tingles that rocketed down her spine at the deep timber of his voice. Not only could the man kill with unparalleled expertise, but he could also woo with the same.
He stood with his hands on the back of a metal chair, making the seat appear unsubstantial and fragile by the flex of his muscles. He looked asflummoxed as she felt. “Do you have a few minutes to talk? About the mission?”
The fact that he had to clarify by defining the parameters of the interaction burned. But it shouldn’t. She in no way wanted to get into any deep conversation here. That she struggled against the throb of missing him was an insane irritant.
“Yes, I can talk. I have the mission items here.” She handed the iPad to Hunt while struggling against erratic breath and a tremble in her fingers.
He didn’t notice as he glanced over the screen, periodically asking her how big certain items were. Her hand gestures seemed to be enough.
This wasn’t too bad.
She slid his coffee closer and dropped into a matching institutional gray foldup chair across the table from him.
With one glance at her, he sat, too. His fingers tapped her items into his tablet. The refrigerator turned on with a loud hum, and the noises from the patient ward filtered in. She could have chatted to fill the moments. She didn’t.
When he finished, he set both items aside and studied her. Blanked like they were, the green of his eyes faded. Except that night they’d sparked, making the hue vivid and compelling.
“How long will this surgery be?”
“I don’t know. It depends on how bad the fractures are, any other injuries unidentified, and how best to repair.”
He looked away, studying the room. “I need a better estimate than that.”
“I got handed the information on the patient thirty minutes ago, and I haven’t seen him. My information states he fell ten feet off a cliff onto a rocky terrain. I’m guessing from experience that I’ll find nasty breaks, but I don’t understand the injuries yet. I don’t know exactly what he needs until I see him. Guessing one to three hours. I’m alone. It’ll be slower.”
Hunt sighed. “Carter will assist you.”
“Carter?”