Shift Happens (Providence Family Ties 2) - Page 14

Nodding, he took a mouthful of his coffee, then pointed at a garbage can that was just inside the door. “Sure do. Feel free to toss it there.”

This time, I didn’t hold my hand out after I tossed the wipe. That’d defeat the purpose of cleaning it off in the first place.

“Thanks for your help.”

Glancing over his shoulder, he shot me a grin. “S’all good, man. I’ve been there when my wife slipped on wet tiles in the bathroom when she was pregnant. My daughter was born while my wife had two broken arms and a concussion.”

Wincing, I shook my head. “Now that sucks.”

“No shit. It was my fault the tiles were wet, too. Make sure you keep yours dry after you get out, ‘cause, trust me, you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Noted,” I assured him as I started toward the doors, making a mental note to invest in some of those shower mat things that were like towels.

Actually, I’d ask whoever was serving at the store which were the most absorbent and least likely to get caught around Sasha’s feet. Maybe Ted had something special?

Following the signs to the elevators, I got in and pressed the floor the woman had said Sasha was on.

The whole way, something niggled at me—not telling her dads. I could understand why she didn’t want to, but at the same time, it was killing me. I guess, seeing as how it was my fault she was in this predicament and all, I should do what she was asking me to do. It just sucked!

And not telling the police? Fuck, I hated that. It was an accident, but it’d still happened.

I also needed to get the damage to my truck fixed, but I refused to do it until she was clear-minded and certain she didn’t want me to tell the police. Maybe I should just tell them? But would they tell her dads, and then I’d have fucked that up for her, too?

Blowing out a breath, I shot a tense smile to the nurse who was watching me. Usually, I’d say hi or at least make small talk, but today I had too much on my mind to even think of something breezy to say.

The nurse didn’t have that problem, however. “You here to see your brother?”

Weird question. “No.”

“Dad?” When I shook my head, she pressed, “Mom?”

“I’m here to see my fiancée.”

“Shame,” she breathed, making me feel uncomfortable.

Fortunately, the elevator stopped on the floor I was getting out on, so I shot her a quick smile and squeezed out through the gap before the doors were all the way open.

Almost directly in front of me was the reception desk, so I didn’t have to go hunting for directions to Sasha’s room.

A friendly looking lady in pink scrubs with graying hair glanced up and smiled before I even reached the desk.

“Now, I’m willing to bet you’re Jackson.”

My eyebrows raised before I could school my expression. “How did you guess?”

“Oh,” she drawled, then broke off with a snicker. “Miss Sasha’s been saying your name a lot.”

“Usually with an expletive attached to it, though,” a brunette nurse added, shooting me a grin. “I’m surprised your ears aren’t on fire.”

I wasn’t offended by this information. I’d have a lot to say about someone who ran me over, too.

“Has she been doing it all night?”

“No.” She shook her head and moved around the counter until she was in front of me, then waved for me to follow behind her.

“She woke up at about four this morning in a lot of pain. The nurse on duty gave her the pain meds on her chart, but they didn’t do much for the poor girl, so the doctor gave her a small dose of Oramorph.”

“Some what?”

“It’s liquid morphine. The effects are almost instant, but it also means we can keep an eye on the dosage she’s getting and what’s going on with her pain wise. I can’t say we use it often, but the doctor decided your girl needed it. Because of the concussion, he was wary at first, but she’s very awake and lucid, so he went with a small dose.”

Then, opening a door, she held it until I was clear and then started walking again. “Anyhoo, the morphine’s made Sasha a bit loopy, so you’ve been getting a lot of mentions from her, but at least she isn’t crying with the pain anymore.”

Wincing, I stopped walking. “I’m not sure if I should go see her, then. Maybe I should call her dads?”

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed my arm with surprising strength and tugged me forward.

“Nonsense. That’s the one thing she definitely doesn’t want. Every time we go in to check on her, she makes sure we know not to call her dads and to call the ‘big sphincter’ who did this instead.”

Tags: Mary B. Moore Providence Family Ties Romance
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