Heartthrob (The Bennett Brothers 3)

“That’s settled. Now onto the next item on the agenda.”

The room remains quiet as he explains there are more supplies going missing all over the hospital. Materials management is working with IT to create a new supply system even more thorough than what’s currently in place. It’s going to be a pain in the ass, but so is the fact that DEA has been informed of what’s happening. By the time he’s finished, the mood is grim, and there are mumblings as we get ready to break up.

Evie follows me to the hallway, pulling me to the side. “I’m going to offer this opportunity to Claire this evening. Can you wait that long to spill the beans?”

“I’m not the one with loose lips. I leave that to Claire.”

This gets me a small grin. “I’m expecting you to control her up in Boston.”

“Can anyone really control Claire?” I joke.

“You know what I mean. Take care of her, watch over her. Dr. Andrews was kind when he used the word intense. These groups can be cut-throat, and any chance they get to outshine the other trainees, they take them. It’s harsh and catty; egos run on high.”

“Evie, you forget how many of these things I’ve attended. You think the nursing side is tough. Try doing rounds with eight doctors whose self-worth is overinflated. Egos so big they don’t fit into the room. I’ve even been close to violence, and I’m the calm one.”

“You’ll take care of her then?” She’s looking for my assurances before she lets this go.

“I’ll always take care of her, and if by some off chance I’m responsible for bailing her out on assault charges, we’ll keep it quiet.”

This earns me a full out smile. “Good boy. I suspect you’ll hear from her around midnight.” She winks and goes in the opposite direction.

When I get to my office, my phone chimes with a text from Claire.

How’d the meeting go?

Me— Same old stuff. Did get some good news. Think it will be public soon.

Claire— Still not able to talk about the bad news?

Me—No, and I don’t want you worried about it. I’m not.

Claire— Will I see you when I arrive?

Me— I’ll be at the nurses’ station waiting for you.

I lie about being concerned because I am getting more frustrated with the fact that the hospital is now looking at every employee as a potential thief. After our first meeting, we were put under strict confidentiality orders not to discuss the missing materials with anyone. That was three weeks ago, and Claire has respected that line in our working relationship. The situation is locked tight with upper-management and nothing has leaked. It sucks dodging her questions, but the fact is I don’t want her worrying about anything.

When I get to my office, I find the message from Dr. Andrews’ assistant asking about travel arrangements for Boston next month. I email her all my and Claire’s information. Then I check our schedules and make a request to be off for two additional days and send the same message to Evie for Claire.

The next few hours, I alternate between clearing my inbox and scanning patient charts. At five ‘til seven, I make my way to meet Claire.

Her loud cackle sounds from the desk before I round the corner. My strides quicken in anticipation; it’s been a long thirteen hours since leaving her this morning. She comes into view, and I stop dead. Her blonde hair is piled on top of her head in a bun with glittery sticks poking out, she’s wearing soft pink scrubs with dancing unicorns, and her face is split into a wide smile. None of this is unusual. What has my blood scorching is the man standing close, gazing at her with unmistakable hunger. His hand moves, crossing into the invisible barrier of personal space. The second he touches her elbow, my feet move.

I slide an arm around her waist, hauling her back to my chest, and skim my lips over the side of her temple. She gives a little yelp, twisting her face to mine.

“Hey, babe.” I speak low but loud enough for him to hear.

“Hi there,” she whispers, sinking into me.

My eyes scan her face, noticing subtle sparkles on her eyes, lips, and cheeks. “You’re glittering.”

“I know. Today is Maggie’s birthday. Her parents are doing something special, and she requested a unicorn theme. I figured I’d go all out.”

The scorching sensation from earlier instantly turns from aggravation to something entirely different. “She’s going to love it.” I picture the twelve-year-old’s face when she sees Claire. The girl already adores Claire, but after tonight, I’d bet that adoration turns to worship.

A throat clears, and she jerks around. “Oh, sorry. Clint, this is Dr. Bennett. Mathis, this is Clint.” She introduces us.

He extends his hand to mine, and I take it with the arm not wrapped around her waist.