The Best Next Thing ((Un)Professionally Yours 1)

“I’m going to have to examine it, to see if it’s broken. I won’t do anything that makes you more uncomfortable, but I have to see if we need to immobilize it before the ambulance gets here.”

That reminded her.

“Hey, did someone call an ambulance?” She looked up and realized that everybody was crowded around them in silent concern. Greyson was clutching a first aid kit, Sam was on his phone, and he nodded in response to her question.

And Miles…Miles was here. Hovering close by and silently watching through narrowed eyes. Why was he here? Shouldn’t he be at puppy school or whatever it was called?

She shook herself, she couldn’t allow herself to be distracted by him right now, the boy needed her.

She ran expert hands over Sinclair’s arm. It had been a while since she had done this, but the steps were comfortingly familiar, and she knew exactly what she was doing. The boy was tense and trembling, and clearly expecting more pain from her touch.

“Can you tell me exactly where it hurts?”

“My sh-shoulder, M-Miss.”

Miss. As if she were one of his teachers. So polite, despite his pain. She wouldn’t have pegged him as a gentleman. Not after the crude first impression he had made. Her hands lightly skimmed up to his shoulder, and she made a soft sound of affirmation beneath her breath, when her touch confirmed what her eyes had already told her. Anterior dislocation of the right shoulder.

“You’ve dislocated it. I don’t think you’ve broken anything and there doesn’t appear to be any nerve damage. Don’t worry, the doctors will manipulate it back into place when you get to the emergency room.”

Ordinarily, Charity would have popped it back herself, but with this many eyes on her, she knew it would raise more questions than she was ready to answer.

“Will it hurt, Miss?” Sinclair’s lovely blue gaze pleaded mutely with her to say it wouldn’t. It was sweet how he had regressed to an insecure little boy, looking for reassurance from someone in perceived authority.

She smiled at him. “It’s nothing like you’ve seen on television. They have to X-ray your arm to be sure nothing’s broken, and if it’s all fine, they’ll give you something for the pain and ease it back into place as carefully as possible. You’ll have to rest it for a few weeks and after that you’ll be right as rain. With a cool story to tell your buddies.”

“Don’t think so, Miss. They all saw m-me jump off the chair like a twat—” He winced. “Sorry, Miss, I shouldn’t have used that w-word, but…”

“That’s okay, you get a pass right now, because you’re in pain.” She looked at the tall, grim man silently holding the first aid kit and gestured toward it. “Greyson, could I have that, please?”

He handed it over, and she opened the box to see if it contained anything she could use to make Sinclair more comfortable.

“Aah, here we go,” she said, with a satisfied grunt, removing a sling from its sterilized packaging. “Let’s immobilize this arm until the paramedics get here.”

She helped him ease his arm into the sling, keeping his movements small and excruciatingly slow.

She had just finished when the EMTs slammed into the community center.

“You’ll be fine,” she reassured the young man, who was still desperately hanging onto Charlie’s hand. She stepped away and allowed the EMTs to take over and watched as the boy was ministered to and lifted onto a gurney, before being bustled out of the community center. Charlie was still by his side, and the other teens trailed behind them shouting out words of encouragement.

All other activities had pretty much ceased during the emergency, and to her extreme chagrin, Charity found herself surrounded by people who wanted to thank her and pat her on her back. Happily, everybody soon dissipated into smaller groups, still talking excitably while packing up their things.

She picked up her towel from where she had dropped it on the floor and, on extremely reluctant feet, made her way to where Miles was now chatting with Sam and Greyson.

Greyson’s face lit up in a rare grin.

“That was pretty goddamned

impressive, Cole,” he said. High praise indeed from the usually aloof man.

“Very,” Sam concurred. “You a moonlight as a doctor or something?”

“Or something.” She shrugged nonchalantly. Sam and Greyson were both discreet enough to drop the subject when they sensed someone didn’t want to talk about something. She turned her attention to Miles, who still hadn’t spoken. “Uh…ready to go? Is Stormy in the car?”

“I told George to take her home.”

The statement confused her. “But…what about us?”

“He took an Uber. He’ll feed Stormy and make sure she’s settled for the evening and then come back in his own car. I’ll drive us home later. I thought we could grab something to eat.”