Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Tara picks it up and stands suddenly. “Got it,” she says, looking at Derik. “When?” she asks and listens for a few more seconds before hanging up the phone. She leaves from behind the desk and I follow her. “The ambulance is in route. Male, thirty-four, gunshot wound to the right shoulder. He’s conscious and may need a transfusion. We need to get everything set up. The ambulance is five minutes out,” Tara says, and all three of us run down the hall to prepare the trauma bay before the patient arrives.
The ambulance pulls in and what I least expect happens. The guy is conscious, laughing, and joking with the EMTs like this is a routine occurrence for him. He hasn’t lost enough blood to need a transfusion, and it doesn’t appear that the bullet hit any arteries; it was a clean in-and-out shot. All he’ll require is a few stitches and an overnight stay in the hospital.
“Are you sure you two don’t want to give me a sponge bath?” Finn, our bullet wound patient asks.
I laugh, shaking my head at him, but Tara doesn’t seem so sure about turning him down. His tall, lean body, boy-next-door good looks, and easy smile definitely make him swoon-worthy.
“Not tonight, handsome,” Tara tells him, batting her lashes.
His hand goes over his heart as he flops back down in the bed and winces. “You wound me, Blondie.”
“I’m sure your ego will be okay.” She smiles.
Tara is really beautiful. She has that whole Southern belle look going for her—long, blond hair, big, blue eyes, and a cute personality. Actually, looking between the two of them, I see Ken and Barbie.
“You need to be careful with that shoulder,” I scold Finn as he winces again when he sits up.
“I could go home with you and you could look after me.” He grins, making me roll my eyes.
“Sorry, but I promised my roommate I wouldn’t take my work home with me.” I start laughing, thinking about Kenton and what he would do if I showed up with a guy who had a gunshot wound.
“Your roommate sucks,” Finn mutters.
“Tell me about it,” I reply with a smile.
A second later, my body goes solid when the voice behind me hits my ears. “What the fuck is going on, Autumn?”
I close my eyes slowly, hoping that I’m wrong. When I turn my head, four large guys are standing near the door and none other than Kenton is standing in the middle of them.
“Autumn?” one of the guys says. My eyes go to him and he smiles. “Shit, boss. This is the Autumn who works at ‘Vander’s Belt’?” He laughs loudly, his eyes going back and forth between Kenton and me.
My eyes shift back to Kenton, seeing his jaw tick. “Um…” I mumble, taking a step back.
“Vanderbilt,” Kenton pronounces, his voice a low rumble. The anger in the one spoken word rolls against my skin, creating goose bumps. “Do not fucking move,” he demands when I start to take another step back.
My body freezes in place as I watch him move towards me, his eyes locked on mine. I feel stuck in place under his glare.
When he’s within touching distance, his hand wraps around my bicep and his mouth comes to my ear. “No more fucking ignoring me,” he growls.
If the wetness in my panties is anything to go by, I like his aggression. I look at Dr. D, who is looking at Kenton with his mouth hanging open, and when his eyes come to mine, he bites his lip. Apparently, he is not going to be any help.
Kenton drags me out of the room and down the hall. He stops at the first door we pass, and his hand that’s not holding me goes to the handle. Finding it unlocked, he leans into the room before tugging me in with him.
“What are you doing?” I ask when I get over the shock of seeing him here.
“You said you worked at a fucking strip club,” he says, letting me go.
“I never said that.” I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest, watching him pace back and forth in front of me like a caged beast.
“You’re a nurse?” He stops across the room, watching me. His eyes travel from the top of my head to my sneaker-covered feet.
“I am, but it changes nothing,” I hiss, leaning forward.
He storms towards me and I retreat until my back hits the wall. Before I can register the move, his mouth is on mine, his hand twists in the hair at the back of my head, and I gasp. He takes the opportunity to lick into my mouth. I try to fight him; I try to pull my mouth away, but his grip on my hair tightens. When he bites my tongue, I lose it.