Page 38 of Tasting Fire
Emmy went through a checklist of questions and determined that Mr. Collier often forgot to take his insulin if someone wasn’t around to remind him. She patted him on the knee and told the nurse, “Please start an insulin drip.”
When she walked back into the hallway, Cash was standing outside the snack area set up for the medics and firefighters. St. Elizabeth’s treated their emergency personnel well. He was chowing down on a granola bar and shooting the shit with another medic.
Emmy was unable to look away from Cash and discovered the same could be said of the two nurses huddled up near the desk, casting speculative glances his way.
“He’s good looking, but I don’t think he’s too bright,” one of them whispered.
“Like it matters,” the other responded. “Because I hear he fucks like a machine.”
No one else would’ve realized Cash had heard the whispers, but Emmy knew because his easygoing smile disappeared. Justwhoosh.
“Connie,” Emmy said in a sharp voice, “in case you weren’t aware, we have patients. Mr. Smith in exam room four needs a penile swab for STD testing.”
By the way Connie’s eyes widened, she realized Emmy had overheard her conversation with the other nurse. “Of course. I’m on it.”
A slow smile developed on Cash’s face and he executed a little two-finger salute. He was a grown man who could more than defend himself, but Emmy’s insides warmed at his acknowledgment that she’d stood up for him.
She walked toward him. “I…”
The words she wanted to say lodged in her throat.I missed you. I wasn’t happy without you. I want something more.
Before she could force them out, Cash said, “Hey, I wanted to let you know I talked with Grif this morning, and he’s already taking care of the window repairs. It should be good to go by the time you get home tonight.”
A small piece of her was disappointed that Cash wouldn’t be sleeping on her couch again. She’d really like to know if he woke up with an erection every morning.
“Do you know what the replacement cost is? I want to repay Grif for the damage.”
“Yeah, that’s gonna go about as well as it did when I offered him money.”
The warmth inside Emmy grew. She didn’t need any man to take care of her financially, but it was a sweet gesture. She smiled up at him and squeezed his arm. “Let’s talk later about—”
“Well, isn’t this cozy?”
Every individual hair on Emmy’s arms lifted.
“Emerson, I thought you said you had patients to attend to.”
Cash’s eyebrows drew together at Oliver’s biting tone, but he put on a friendly smile and held out a hand. “Hey there. I’m Cash King—”
“You’re a medic,” Oliver said in a tone so dismissive that Emmy was shocked speechless. “And it’s time for you to be on your way.”
Cash’s expression went from casually friendly to I-will-fuck-you-up in a blip. “Dude, I don’t know who you think you are, but—”
“Oliver Amory of the Boston Amorys. Chief of staff at Baltimore General and Emerson’s fiancé.”
Well, Emmy’s ex was just as big a dickhead as Cash had imagined he might be. Dismissive prick.
“Emerson and I have some unfinished business,” Amory said and grabbed Emmy’s upper arm so hard that she winced.
Oh, hell no. Cash might not know exactly how he felt about Emmy. Her fun list had simultaneously hurt his heart and thawed it some. But no one would ever hurt her while he was around. “I don’t care if you’re the motherfucking king of England. Get your hands off Dr. McKay or I’ll have you escorted out by security.”
What Cash didn’t say is that he’d have him dragged out on his ass and then meet him in the parking lot. And no man wearing loafers that shiny would be able to hold his own in a fistfight.
Well, except Grif. He’d been known to kick ass like some martini-sipping James Bond a time or two.
“Oliver,” Emmy said, a plea clear in her tone, “you don’t want to do this here. This isn’t BaltGen, and you don’t have any authority in this hospital. Do not make a scene.”
“Where are you staying?” Amory the Asshole asked. “I’ll meet you…”
