Careful, Cody. That way lies trouble.
‘You feel like going for a drink?’ Cody asked Harper at the end of their shift as they pushed through the swing doors and out into the corridor. ‘We’ve certainly earned one today.’ The rest of the shift was already at the pub just down the road, no doubt yacking about the event that had overtaken the department that morning, which kind of had him regretting his suggestion to Harper. He’d had enough of the talk. Already the truth had been expanded, the resultant stories getting way out of control.
‘I don’t think so.’ She looked decidedly uncomfortable with the idea. Or was that about going with him?
His tongue got the better of him, as it was prone to do at the most inconvenient of times. ‘You don’t drink with your colleagues?’ She wouldn’t now, not if he was going to be there.
‘I don’t drink at all when I have a migraine.’
He swore. Now he knew why she kept rubbing her temples. ‘How’re you getting home?’ he asked as he saw her blink furiously when they stepped out into the blinding summer sun.
‘I have a car.’ Her chin jutted out. ‘How about you?’
‘I have a motorbike.’
‘Then you’re not asking me for a ride home?’
‘No, but I am offering to drive you home in your car. You are in no fit state to be behind the wheel.’
‘Yes, nurse.’ Her tone would’ve sounded sarcastic if there hadn’t been resignation and tiredness lacing her words. It seemed as though now she’d stopped work she was unravelling completely. Her eyes were half-closed, and she dug around in her bag and dragged out sunglasses, which she slapped on her face before heading towards the staff car park.
He followed. ‘You know I’m right. A migraine is hell, apparently. Do you get blackouts with yours?’
Her mouth tightened and she said nothing.
‘Toss in that bruised and swollen throat, the shock of being held hostage, and you’re in need of a little pampering.’ Was he offering to pamper her? No, that had come out all wrong. But he was damned if he was going to retract his statement. He didn’t do being caught on the back foot—not by attractive, sharp-tongued women, at any rate.
Harper ducked between vehicles, seemingly intent on the furthest row. When she reached a dazzling blue, high-performance car she pinged the locks and glared at him over the roof. ‘Forgot where you parked your motorbike?’
Cody ignored her anger, believing it probably wasn’t really directed at him but more at the situation she found herself in. He wanted to help her, be there for her, and knew better than to come out and say so. He tried another tack. Running his hand over the bonnet, he noted, ‘Nice. Bet it goes like a cut cat.’
‘Faster.’ There was the smallest twist of her lips and a hint of laughter in the pained eyes she exposed when she removed her sunglasses to rub her temples again.
So heat did run along her veins. Not often, maybe, but obviously sometimes. Now, there was a challenge. She was into fast cars. But not today. He stared at her and held out his hand.
Harper stared straight back. At least, she tried to, but that migraine must’ve got the better of her because she blinked and her chin dropped. The keys sailed through the air and he snatched them before they landed on the paintwork. ‘Careful.’ Opening the passenger door, he waited patiently for her to come round and slide inside then, closing her door, he headed for the other side of the car, whistling under his breath.
Miss—was she a Miss, or a Mrs?—Dr White could be a pain in the backside. But she was also magnificent. He could appreciate the details without being tempted to learn more about her. If it hadn’t been for the day’s drama he wouldn’t be regarding her twice. He wouldn’t know that she had soft, muscle-tightening curves in all the right places. Or that she smelt delicious. She was clearly intelligent, and was a superb doctor. She was starting to sound too good. Harper’s nothing to me in any way other than as a colleague.
Anyway, she had a Jason in her life.
*
Harper leaned her head back against the headrest and groaned. Talk about the day from hell. All she wanted was to crawl into bed in her blacked-out room and let the headache drugs that she would take now she’d finished work do their magic. Hopefully she’d sleep, and not have nightmares about that gun or the man wielding it.
‘Address?’ Cody asked.
Without opening her eyes, she rattled off the street and number, then sighed with relief when he said he knew where to go. Talking hurt, and if she didn’t have to utter another word till next week she’d be happy. Not that she’d kept quiet earlier. It was like something had got hold of her tongue, had had her blathering away like she didn’t know how to stop, even though her throat protested every syllable. Why had she asked Cody all those personal questions? It wasn’t as though she had to have the answers to be able to work with him.
But after everything that had happened she’d felt a need to know more about the man who’d come to her rescue, who’d been there throughout the whole ordeal, who’d even understood her sorrow at losing her patient. He’d surprised her with how recently he’d qualified. She’d done the sums—he was in his early thirties. Fishermen had to be tough, physically and mentally, to cope with the conditions they worked in. She’d seen that in Cody today, and she’d also noticed the soft streak that made him so popular with patients.
Cody had stepped up, tried to talk the gunman into letting her go and hadn’t hesitated to take him down when she’d deliberately dropped towards the floor. It had been a risk doing that but she’d felt Cody was a part of her, that he’d known what was going on in her head all the time. The way he’d reacted suggested he’d dealt with villains before. Intriguing. But nothing to do with her. Whatever Cody had done in the past, she did not need to know. That would be getting too personal, and there was no point in doing that when she had no intention of socialising with him outside work.
Cody interrupted her thoughts. ‘You fixed for pills for that migraine?’
‘Yes.’ Like a doctor wouldn’t be prepared when she had regular migraines. ‘Of course.’
‘Just checking. You want anything for home? Food, milk or bottled water? I can duck into the supermarket for you.’
‘Got everything I need.’ Except a loving man. She gasped. Where had that come from? Had that crack on her skull with the gun addled her brain? Not once since she’d packed her bags and walked out the front door of the house she’d shared with Darren had she believed she was ready for a relationship with another man. A quick fling, yes—anything deep and meaningful, no. If there was even a man out there who’d accept her infertility issue, she’d struggle to believe he wouldn’t change his mind like Darren had done. She’d just have to wait until she was fifty and beyond wanting to be a mother before getting involved with someone.
Her gaze slid sideways to study the profile of the man next to her. He looked good behind the wheel in this big car. Strong, easy in his body, confident. Then there was his reliability—as far as she’d seen, anyway—and his friendly, caring side. There was that perfectionist element she’d noted before the morning had gone pear-shaped, but perfectionism could be a fault or a good trait. He could also get angry, as witnessed with their assailant. Controlled anger though, not a rant or rage.
‘You’re staring.’
She was. And liking what she saw more and more. A big enough reason to close her eyes again. Which she did, and sank further down the seat. Thank goodness for Fridays. The coming weekend would give her time to recover fully from the migraine. Whether she’d stop shaking from shock every time she thought about what had gone down in the ED by Monday was another story. What if the assailant had fired his gun? Had wounded someone—Jess, Cody or her? She shivered abruptly.
He placed one hand on her thigh, squeezed lightly and removed his hand fast. ‘Don’t think about him. It’s over now.’ He sounded so darned calm, as though nothing had affected him.
Yet his ability to constantly know what she was thinking
riled her for no real reason. Again she pictured him taking that man down and her mood swiftly softened. He was very confident and for a large man he’d moved fast, light on his feet. The assailant hadn’t known what had hit him. Which was just as well, or it might’ve been Cody feeling the hot end of that gun. She shivered. For some strange reason she took real comfort from his confidence and was inordinately grateful to him for how he’d dealt with the situation. Also for his tenderness in that hug. Confused. That was what she was.
Nausea swamped her senses. She was going to be sick. No, she wasn’t. Not in front of Cody, nurse or not. That would be the final straw in a very bad day. Pressing the switch to lower her window, she leaned over and relished the air flowing across her face. It wasn’t cold air, but at least cooler than what was inside the car. No doubt she’d look a right state by the time they reached home, but at this moment she couldn’t care less.
‘You need to stop?’ Cody asked, already slowing the car and easing closer to the edge of the road.
‘No. Keep going.’ The sooner she got home, the better. The blinding pain behind her eyes was increasing in intensity, but at least the nausea was sort of under control. This was becoming the migraine to beat all migraines in her experience, no doubt exacerbated by the tension from earlier.
Her apartment was just around the corner. Soon she’d be shot of Cody Brand. Until Monday and work. With a bit of luck, by then they’d be back to being a doctor and a nurse working in the same department. Hopefully by then all the talk and texts would’ve died down too. She didn’t fancy multiple reruns of today’s event.
‘There’s a car in your driveway.’ Cody’s voice was deeper than most men’s, yet it soothed her frayed nerves and battered mind. ‘Want me to park on the road?’
‘Great.’ She’d forgotten about Gemma calling in after her shopping expedition so they could have a wine together. Not happening now; the mere thought of wine turned her stomach. ‘That’d be fine. I’ll shift the car later.’ Tomorrow when she finally crawled out of bed.