One Night With The Army Doc. Traci Douglass
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the inconvenient flood of endorphins fizzing through her from his touch and handed him the patient’s chart. She did her best work when she had colleagues with whom to brainstorm, and tonight she needed to bring her A game.
“Before the crew comes in, what’s your assessment?”
Dr. Ryder thumbed through the pages, glancing at her with no small amount of suspicion. “Given the weird olfactory hallucinations, and the fact we’ve ruled out the other obvious choices, how about encephalitis?”
“The only elevated result on the CBC was a slightly higher than normal eosinophil level, which doesn’t point to a brain infection.”
Molly struggled to keep her voice steady. It wasn’t the case that unsettled her. It was this man. He was too big, too masculine, too...everything.
Gladys came to check the patient’s vitals. Molly wanted to question Dr. Ryder further, but his cell phone buzzed.
He pulled it from the front pocket of his scrubs, then scowled at the screen. “I need to get back to my department. Bobby, you’re okay with all this?”
“Yep.” The patient shifted on his bed, the plastic frame creaking under his muscled weight. “I’ll call you if I need you, Jake. And don’t hover. You just think you have to watch out for me because—”
“That’s not why.”
A look passed between the two men and the air in the room seemed to vibrate with a secret silent understanding.
Then Dr. Ryder headed for the door, calling to her over his shoulder. “May I speak to you outside, Dr. Flynn?”
Still trembling slightly from a jumble of unexpected confusing emotions, Molly took a deep breath and followed him out into the hall. She hated being this overwrought in front of people, especially her new patient, but this issue between her and Dr. Jake Ryder needed to end. She wouldn’t let him destroy her best chance to save her show, even if it meant putting up with his irritating sexiness for the duration of her shoot.
* * *
“What are your next steps?” Jake asked once they’d reached a secluded corner of the hall.
The words had emerged more harshly than he’d intended, given Dr. Flynn’s slight wince, but he couldn’t seem to help it. Bad enough that she’d walked around that accident scene looking like some Disney princess come to life—all big blue eyes and lush blond hair—making him itch to hold and protect her. The tightness in his chest intensified, though his frustration was directed more toward himself than anyone else. Even worse that the first woman he’d felt attracted to since Kellie’s departure was the media star Dr. Dave had invited to collaborate on Bobby’s case.
Irony at its finest, folks.
Trust wasn’t something Jake gave freely. He’d been burned too badly in the past. The truth was, he had a hard time believing in anyone these days, except his Army buddies and his tight-knit circle of friends. Intimacy required vulnerability, and Jake didn’t do vulnerable anymore. Besides, he was a successful trauma surgeon. With his crazy schedules and on-call nightmares it was difficult to meet people, let alone have any kind of life outside his profession.
That was the excuse he was going with anyway.
And maybe Molly Flynn was the best at what she did—if Dr. Dave was to be believed. That didn’t excuse her impassioned speech about her sterling integrity—which, crazily enough, had only increased his foolish awareness of her as a woman. All he’d been able to concentrate on when she’d talked was her sparkling azure eyes and soft pink lips. God help him, he was in trouble here. Because she was Bobby’s specialist and a TV sensation.
The last time he’d dealt with the press—after his commendation—he’d gotten way more than his fifteen minutes of fame. Worse, the glare of media attention had only intensified after his relationship with Kellie had fallen apart, with reporters poking and prodding into his wreck of a personal life like vultures at a roadside kill.
The last thing Jake wanted now was to delve into that shark-infested cesspool again, but he couldn’t leave Bobby without an advisor in his corner. The guy had risked his own life to save Jake—literally. No way would he turn his back on him, no matter how uncomfortable the situation, and releases be damned.
During his time in Afghanistan he’d spent hours on the front lines, patching up men and women and ally civilians who’d given their all for their country. He’d enlisted initially for the experience, and to uphold the family legacy—his father had served as a Special Operations Pilot during Vietnam. But six years with the Seventy-Fifth Ranger Regiment had made his fellow soldiers Jake’s surrogate family, his brothers and sisters. With them, he’d found a tribe of kindred spirits all addicted to danger and valor.
Day in and day out he’d vowed to protect every one of them with his life, if needed. The time had come to make good on his promise.
Rock—meet proverbial hard place.
“I’ve ordered a chest CT to rule out CSS,” Dr. Flynn said, jarring Jake from his thoughts. “If you’ll excuse me...”
“Wait.” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, doing his best to ignore the heat of her body wrapping around him, beckoning him closer. “I think we got started on the wrong foot.”
“Yes, I think we did,” Molly said, her gaze glittering with obvious irritation.
She wasn’t going to make this easy. Then again, neither was he.
“Churg-Strauss Syndrome is a severe conclusion to jump to so quickly, isn’t it?” he asked, puzzled.
Dr. Flynn sighed, the rise and fall of her chest causing the front of her T-shirt to hug her small curves. Not that he was looking. Nope. Definitely not looking.
“It’s a remote possibility, yes, but it would explain all his symptoms. And I like to be thorough. Satisfied now, Dr. Ryder?”
Not by a long shot, sweetheart.
Sudden images of them tangled in his sheets, her long silky hair splayed around him, swamped Jake’s exhausted mind. He backed away, alarmed. He’d just met her, for goodness’ sake. Must be the lack of sleep. Had to be.
“Keep me posted on the results.” Jake handed Bobby’s file back to her, then headed for the elevators. “If you don’t, I know where to find you.”
The brief flare of awareness in her eyes made his own pulse kick higher. Apparently he wasn’t the only one affected by this weird connection between them. Good thing she’d be on the first plane out of here as soon as Bobby had recovered.
All Jake wanted was an empty bed and peace and quiet. Unfortunately he still had about an hour of documentation to finish and a few patients either to admit or discharge before he was off duty for forty-eight blissful hours. Hours when he wouldn’t have to see Dr. Flynn or deal with the odd blaze of emotions she stirred inside him, making him want to both kiss her and throttle her in equal measures.
It was crazy. And then there was that slight yearning that crept into her expression sometimes, like when they’d been standing in the hallway discussing the case—a hesitation that called to his inner protector. Dangerous, that, since it threatened those precious walls he’d built—the ones meant to keep his heart from getting torn out and stomped on again.
Honestly, it had been so long since he’d had a significant other he couldn’t remember what it was like. During the last few months before Kellie had left him things had been so strained they’d just been going through the motions. Even so, the last thing he’d expected had been her accepting a network job in New York City without even discussing it with him. Blindsided didn’t begin to cover how he’d felt at the time. How he still felt, in some ways.
Eighteen months had passed and it still hacked Jake off whenever he remembered. He’d thought they had something good together—something real, something lasting.
He guessed that just