Unbelievable (21 page)

“I’ll be right back,” he promised as the door shut.

After ten minutes alone in the beautifully decorated, yet still very tiny, office I needed some air. I tugged several times on the door before it finally flung open.
Unbelievable
. I went directly to the nurses’ station and found Tess, but no Cole.

“Did Cole come this way with a Tweedle?” I as
ked.

“I thought just the other nurses called them that,” she said softly. We both
laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Booker said from behind me. I knew his voice without even looking.

“Hello, Booker. What brings you here?” I asked. Tess fidgeted with a file in her hand before taking it over to the Tweedles, who’d walked up to the nurses’ station with Cole. Her jaw tightened, as if struggling not to smile.

I turned to face Booker. As usual, he had a Glock 22 strapped to his chest. His uniform
, however, was covered in blood.

“Booker, have you been shot?” My eyes scanned him from head to toe in search of a bullet or knife wound.

“No. I was on my way home when I saw this guy, Jeff Moore, trying to get a deer into his car.”

“Poaching?”

“Nope. Someone hit it out in front of his house and then drove off. He was struggling to get it into his car, hoping he could bring it here for medical attention.” He had a grin from ear to ear as he told the story. “Needless to say, Moore’s had a little too much to drink today.”

“You brought a deer to the ER?” I questioned, looking toward the glass doors that led to the parking lot.

“No. The deer died before we could get it in this car. Of course not before it bled all over us and jabbed Tim multiple times in the ribs with his antlers. I brought him in to make sure there were no internal injuries.”

“You tried helping him get a deer into his car?” I asked, impressed.

“There’s an animal hospital down the street from where we were, so it was worth a shot,” Booker said casually.

“Lilah,” Tess said, coming toward us. “Cole said to tell you he’ll be just a few minutes.” Tess looked coyly at Booker’s face through her thick eyelashes, smiled, and then dropped her gaze to his shirt.

Down she went.

Never in my life had I seen someone go that white and faint that quickly. Booker caught her
and scooped her up in his arms, looking at me for directions. I pointed to a small ER room off to the right and he carried her inside, laying her carefully on the faded Power Ranger sheets that covered the gurney mattress.

“Tess,” Booker called to her softly. “Tess,” he repeated, str
oking her hair out of her eyes as he worked on bringing Tess back to the living, so to speak.

“I’d better find a clean shirt for you to change into or when she comes around she’ll faint again.”
I hurried over to a clean laundry cart against the wall and snagged a fresh scrub top, bringing it to him. Tess had already begun stirring as he slipped the top over his bloody shirt.

“Wh …What happened?” Tess asked, her eyes fluttering open. Before either of us could answer, they widened. “Oh no! I fainted again, didn’t I?” She had a look of utter embarrassment on her face, red cheeks and all.

“Yes,” Booker said, sitting down next to her. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Don’t worry. Everyone’s so busy caring for the drunk deer lover, they haven’t noticed. It’ll be our little secret.”

She buried her face in her hands. “I’m going to lose my job,” she said through her fingers.

“No, you won’t. Lots of people can’t handle the sight of blood,” he assured her.

“Yes, well, I’ll bet they don’t work in a hospital.” Tess looked him straight in the eyes. It was the first time I’d ever seen her look anyone in the eyes for more than
two seconds.

“If you promise not to tell anyone, I’ll share a secret with you,” Book said, handing her a hankie from his pocket to dry the tears spilling down her cheeks.
“When I was a rookie cop, the first time I saw blood, I threw up twice. Once in my patrol car all over my partner,” Booker admitted. “He got so mad, he refused to work with me again. He called me Upchucky Cheese until I left the force to join the military a year later.”

“Why Upchucky Cheese?” she asked, blowing her nose.

“Right before I got sick we’d just eaten lunch which consisted of pizza. I’m sure you get the picture,” he said.

“Okay, that may be worse than fainting,” she admitted, a small smile on her face. “You don’t throw up now, do you?” He shook his head. “I need to get used to the blood if I’m going to keep my job.”

“Maybe you should try getting a different job,” I suggested. She worked hard at what she did. I knew Cole would give her a good reference.

“I love this job, well, except for the blood, and maybe the Tweedles,” Tess said, standing up slowly.

“Who are the Tweedles?” Booker asked.

“They…umm…”

“Two very obnoxious nursing students,” I said, saving Tess from saying it.

“Let me guess, Julie and Karen?”

“Lucky guess,” I said.

“No, obvious,” Booker replied with a mischievous grin. “And remember, this little incident’s between us.” Tess nodded.

“You’d better get home and take a shower before the blood dries, otherwise you’ll be scrubbing for days to get it off,” I suggested.

“Not really. When you live in the northeast, you never fully dry out thanks to all the humidity,” he joked.

“True,” I agreed. “I’m from Arizona where any moisture dries instantly in the desert air,” I replied.

Booker’s eyes jumped from Tess to me, narrowing slightly. “Where in Arizona are you from?” he asked.

Oh crap! Think fast, Delilah, or he’s going to finally figure out who you are. “Technically, we lived in Boulder City, Nevada, in small town just west of Arizona,” I lied. He nodded, saying nothing else, though his eyes stayed with me as I went back out to the reception area. Book and Tess walked over to the vending machines in the hallway.

I’m busted
. I stood, shaking, at the desk, waiting for Cole to finish up with the nurse.

“Hello, beautiful.” Cole came over and planted a kiss on my cheek. “You okay?” He stroked my jaw with the back of his hand.

“I’m fine,” I smiled tightly.

“Hey, Doc.” Booker walked up next to us. “Your girlfriend here kindly tracked down a scrub top for me since my shirt was covered in . . . ah . . . stuff. Hope that’s al
l right?” Booker winked at me, his eyes now free of doubt. Tess stood silently at his side, still a little pale. She had a Pepsi in her hand.

“Here, Lilah. I got you a soda too.” Booker handed me a Pepsi. I hated regular soda, but not wanting to look like an ingrate I graciously accepted it, sipping slowly on the overly sweet drink. “I need to go home and shower. How’s my humanitarian doing? Anything broken?” he asked Cole.

“They’re x-raying him now, but I don’t believe so,” Cole said. “He’s got a few bruises, but that’s about it.”

“Good to hear,” Booker said. “I guess I’ll see you at home later then.” Book turned to Tess. “Would you like to grab a bite to eat after your shift?”

The poor girl’s eyes flew open and she went pale again. Before she could answer a Tweedle waddled up to us.

“Dr. Colter, the coffee machine’s still not working!”

The perfect excuse for me to get out from under Booker’s gaze. “Come on. Let me see if I can fix it.” I handed my soda to Cole with a wink on my way down the hall.

“Oh, Lilah. Donna asked me to let you know they’ll start decorating my office complex on Monday,” Booker called after me.

“Okay, thanks.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’d better hurry before the Tweedles start going through caffeine withdrawals.”

I heard both Cole and Booker laughing as I hustled away.

Yup, I’m so busted.

Chapter
18

“Lilah, this is not my idea of a special place for dinner,” Cole complained as we trudged our way up the jogging trail that circled Applegate Park, beads of sweat trickled down our foreheads.

“Trust me. This is better than a stuffy restaurant.” I hitched the canvas bag up on my shoulders and aimed for a grassy knoll shaded by an oak tree.

“Here.” I took the bag Cole’d been carrying, pulled out a yellow blanket, and spread it alongside the Erie Canal. Next, I took my bag and removed three plastic tubs full of chicken salad, bread, and some baby carrots and set them on the blanket along with some red paper plates with a couple plastic forks. I handed Cole a silver thermos filled with ice cold lemonade and a couple of champagne glasses. “Our own touch of elegance.”

“Wonderful, but I still don’t understand why we aren’t going to the new restaurant
in town.”

“I called to make reservations and was told they’re booked for the next three weeks. Also, it’s a black tie type restaurant. I’m afraid your scrubs won’t cut it,” I teased, tugging on his blue shirt
.

“Very funny,” he said, pouring the lemonade and handing me a glass before we sat down on the blanket.
I made us each a sandwich and placed them on a couple of plates with some carrots.

“This is good chicken salad,” Cole said after making himself a third sandwich
several minutes later. He took a broken piece of bread and tossed it to some ducks which were encroaching on our picnic.

“Cole, if you feed them, they’ll never leave,” I said, waving my arms in an attempt to chase the ducks off.

“You’re o
rnithophobic? I didn’t think anything scared you,” he teased.

“I’m not afraid of birds,” I said, lying on my back next to him and tucking my hands behind my head as a cushion. “Birds love to poo on me. I prefer not to be around them, thank you very much.”

“Birds poo on you?” He glanced at me, a brow arched.

“Yes. Many times.”

“How many?”

“At least four that I can remember.” I sat back up. “The first time happened in second grade at the zoo as my class walked through the arboretum. The next two times were at the beach.”

“The beach?” he questioned, removing a leaf from my hair.

“Seagulls.” He nodded. “I was ten years old the first time, innocently eating a cup of fries
, when
plop
, right on my head. The second time I was drinking a soda, listening to a street band when a flock of the evil things flew overhead. One pooped down the back of my shirt.” He laughed, stuffing the last of his sandwich in his mouth.

“Oh yeah, very funny.” I punched his shoulder playfully. “The last time was in Paris, walking around the Eifel tower. Actually, two birds
attacked
me in Paris. A little brown bird swooped in, trying to distract me by pretending to steal my pretzel, while a seagull dove straight at me from the side, pooping on my head,
again
. Maybe they think this is a nest.” I said tugging on a lock of curls.

“You think they orchestrated the whole thing?” he questioned, with a dramatic look of sympathy on his face.

“Well, it was a pretty crafty move, if you ask me. One distracts while the other attacks.” I shrugged.

Cole laughed. “Nope, you’re not o
rnithophobic at all.” He reached over and tugged one of my frizzy curls, pulling it straight down then releasing it, smiling as it bounced back. He did it two more times.

“Having fun?”

“Did you ever read the Ramona books when you were a kid?”

“By Beverly Cleary,” I said.  “I loved those books.”

“Me, too. I remember in one Ramona sat behind a girl in school with lots of curls—”

“Susan,” I reminded him.

“That’s right, Susan. Ramona was dying to
boing
one of her curls. I remember thinking,
I wish I could boing Susan’s curls too
.”

I stroked his cheek. “Boing away, Opie.”

“I can think of other things I’d rather do now.” He slipped his hand into my frizzy curls and pulled my mouth to his, kissing me deeply. He didn’t stop until a couple teenagers strolled by, belting out catcalls.