ROMeANTICALLY CHALLENGED. Marina Adair

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СКАЧАТЬ from the walls of a Marine base. It took seventy-three soldiers two weeks to locate all the genetic material belonging to the fourteen downed Marines, twenty-one civilian contractors, nine local workers, and six naval hospital corpsmen caught in the blast.

      Soldiers go into a war zone trained to keep atrocities from happening, but equally trained in case the worst happens. In China, these were day laborers in a concrete plant. Moms and dads who felt safe enough that many of them brought their young children to the day care located just outside the factory.

      The knot in his stomach tightened and squeezed, which made his eyes burn with grit and his head pound double time.

      Rosalie watched him with growing concern.

      He was tempted to tell her it wasn’t necessary. He was concerned enough for the two of them. And, before she got it in her head that he needed feeling sorry for, he flashed her enough pearly whites to thoroughly rattle her. It was one of those half-smile, half-grin deals that released a set of double-barreled dimples he’d hated as a kid but came to appreciate the moment he started appreciating women.

      “I’m still waiting for your number, Rosalie,” he said and, would you look at that, it worked like a charm.

      He’d rather be home rattling his new roomie, but she’d snuck out of the house before he could see what color scrubs she had on today. And wasn’t that a damn shame.

      “Why are you sweet-talking me, Emmitt?”

      “If you have to ask, then you’re long overdue for some sweet talk and pampering. So why don’t you call that uptight boss of yours out here. I’ll set him straight.”

      “My boss treats me just fine. And he’s too busy to be bothered by you.”

      “So the doc in, then?”

      “Depends. You have an appointment?” Rosalie’s smile vanished.

      “No, but—”

      “No appointment. No entry. You know the rules.”

      Emmitt liked to bend the rules whenever possible, and if he happened to screw with Gray’s schedule in the process, all the better. “It will just take a minute.”

      “Dr. Tanner doesn’t have a minute. You see this waiting room?” She pointed to the overly full room of patients. “He has a packed schedule, one of the nurses called in sick, and there’s an outbreak of scabies going around the elementary school.”

      On second glance, Emmitt noticed that the room was filled with moms and kids. Itching and scratching kids. “Trust me, I’ll make it quick.”

      Emmitt had slept in some of the worst conditions humanity had to offer, dined on crickets before it was a delicacy, and covered every pandemic from malaria to Ebola and a recent outbreak of H1N1. But there was something about little bugs feasting on his skin that wigged him out.

      Rosalie shook her head. “It’s a no.”

      “I just need a minute.”

      “I heard you the first time.” Rosalie crossed her arms and looked ready to take him down if necessary.

      “Look, golden boy told me to stop by today.”

      “I have two PhDs,” Gray said from the hallway. Glasses on, face buried in a file, he looked to be treating the scabies breakout singlehandedly. “I’m not a boy. And why are you here?” He paused. “Jesus, don’t tell me it’s because you can’t pick up Paisley anymore? You can’t bail thirty minutes before on me.”

      “I’m not bailing,” Emmitt said, the Fuck you, dickwad clear in his tone. He might have lost a little track of time, but he’d never bail last minute on his kid. Especially not four months after losing her mom. “You told me to drop by. So here I am.”

      “I told you to drop by this morning.” Gray pointed to his watch. “I don’t know how time works in your world, but for the rest of us, morning comes after sunrise and before lunch. Come back tomorrow. Morning.”

      Emmitt didn’t have a big brother. Growing up, it was just him and his pops. If he’d had one, though, he imagined the guy would be as annoying as Gray.

      “Can’t. And I don’t want to be late picking up Paisley. That would be... what did you guys call it the other day? Oh yeah, a bad dad move.” Repeating the comment stung, almost as much as it had when the guys had uttered it last night. “So we’d better make this quick, Doc.”

      They exchanged glances. Neither one gave.

      Gray crossed his arms. Emmitt followed suit. Same went for the glare. But when the boy with the ketchup stain on his upper lip—who’d been scratching his junk a moment ago—dropped his Matchbox car and it started rolling toward Emmitt, he pointed to Gray’s watch.

      “Tick tock.” He tapped with his middle finger.

      “Fine.” Gray handed a stack of files to Rosalie. “Could you push back Tommy Harper by five minutes. And if that five turns into six, buzz in and pretend I have a call so I can kick him out.”

      Offended, Him said, “I’m right here.”

      Gray ignored him and began walking back toward his office. “Five minutes. I’ll be watching my clock,” Rosalie said to Emmitt.

      He gave a respectful salute, then headed down the hallway, surprised to locate Gray in an exam room instead of his office.

      Emmitt walked past the exam table, which was prepped for a thorough checkup, and plopped down on the chair usually reserved for the patient’s plus one.

      Sitting back, he leaned his head against the wall, sprawled his legs all the way out, sure to take up as much territory as possible. While the position helped with the dizziness and alleviated some of the soreness, he had to admit that the agitated way Gray moved around Emmitt’s legs was even better.

      Emmitt took great pleasure in ruffling the good doctor’s lab coat every once in a while.

      “So what brings you in?” Gray asked.

      “Do I need a reason to visit my domestic partner?”

      “We don’t live together, so we aren’t domestic partners.” Gray took the Velcro thing from the wall and wrapped it around Emmitt’s arm—tightly.

      Emmitt opened his mouth to respond—and in went the thermometer.

      Gray pressed his finger to Emmitt’s wrist and silently checked his watch. He was grinning as if he found some kind of sick pleasure in making Emmitt follow the rules.

      “How’s my pulse?” he asked around the thermometer.

      Gray lifted a single brow and struck his serious guy pose. “Did you swim back from China?”

      “No.”

      “Then it’s not good.”

      “The closer my proximity to assholes, the higher it gets.”

      The thermometer beeped. “It’s 98.9.” Gray coiled СКАЧАТЬ