Bonded Love

by Renee Roman

  “Anyone in particular?” When Trinity didn’t answer, Kelly went on. “How is Ms. Carter?”

  She rolled her eyes, knowing Kelly wouldn’t be convinced she hadn’t seen Blaze.

  “She’s hot, isn’t she? Is that why you’ve been staying late and coming in early?”

  Kelly’s voice was low enough that the conversation stayed private, but heat emanated from Trinity’s ears, a telltale sign she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t, though that was silly because she hadn’t done anything wrong. Ignoring Kelly’s inquisition, she decided to feed her a partial truth.

  “It’s a good thing I did. She was trying to figure out how to remove her catheter.”

  “Oh my God. Seriously?”

  “Uh-huh.” She didn’t want Kelly thinking it was a big deal. “I explained what could have happened, then I took it out.”

  Kelly stared at her for a long time.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “That’s not the look of nothing, so give it up.” She went to the Keurig machine and selected a dark roast with extra caffeine.

  “You seem particularly interested in the well-being of Ms. Carter. You’re walking a fine line and I’ve never known you to even come close, so I’m wondering why.”

  Once Blaze had left the ED, her medical treatment was no longer Trinity’s concern. Of course, she could visit her and find out how she was doing, but performing professional duties was tricky territory, and she should have thought more about it before acting on impulse. She rationalized her actions. “I signed off on her chart. It was the change of shift. Besides, I was there.” Worrying about Blaze doing damage to herself shouldn’t have come into play. There were nurses on duty who could deal with her. At least she’d documented what she’d done and the reason before she left the orthopedic surgical unit. But the desire to see her again remained.

  “Still,” Kelly said. “It’s unlike you. What’s going on?”

  Trinity shook her head. “I don’t know. There’s something about her I’m drawn to. You’re right though, it won’t happen again.”

  “But she’s hot, right?” Kelly waggled her brows, making her laugh.

  “Yes, she’s hot.” She turned to the monitors in front of her, hoping for a distraction. The last thing she needed were fantasies about a patient four floors above her with the most gorgeous bedroom eyes she’d ever seen.

  * * *

  The next evening, Trinity reviewed the inpatient roster and smiled upon seeing Blaze’s name. Kelly’s words repeated in her head. The pull was undeniable. She’d never felt an emotional tie to anyone who’d come through the ED before, and even though she was handsome and the confident butch type Trinity was attracted to, hadn’t she already decided there’d be no relationship on her radar for the foreseeable future?

  The ED was exceptionally quiet with only one patient in trauma bay two. The teenager was sleeping off the residual effects of alcohol poisoning. The doctor had ordered ipecac, followed by IV fluids, and they’d monitor him for a few hours to ensure he was out of danger. The alcohol in his system would take a while to dissipate. He was lucky his friends had panicked when he’d become unresponsive and brought him here.

  Trinity finished charting, checked in with the staff, and swiped out. She chewed her lower lip. It was seven thirty. Maybe she’d just say hi and then be on her way. There was no harm in being friendly. She gathered her things and took the stairs to the fourth floor. By the time she reached the door, her legs burned, and she was a little short of breath. She really needed to make time for the gym.

  The door to Blaze’s room was closed and Trinity wondered if she was sleeping. As she reached for the handle, DJ came sweeping out. They made eye contact and Trinity couldn’t help being on guard.

  “You,” DJ hissed as she invaded Trinity’s personal space. “Why the hell are you here again?”

  Not usually at a loss for words, Trinity was shocked by her intensity and just stood there when she should have defended herself. DJ didn’t give her a chance.

  “What do you want from her?”

  “I don’t want anything.” For the first time since meeting her, Trinity saw beneath the rough exterior, recognizing the pinched features as concern. “I’m sorry if you think I have ulterior motives. I was there when she spoke with the surgeon, and I’m as concerned about her injury as you are.”

  DJ swiped at her bangs with a visibly shaky hand. “I doubt that. You don’t know her. Not like I do.” DJ pushed off the wall and stared at her. “I think it best if you don’t see her right now. She needs to concentrate on her recovery.”

  Without a valid argument, Trinity turned and walked away in a haze toward the stairwell. What had she been doing? True, Blaze had piqued a personal interest, but the hospital was no place to act on it. It would be best to wipe Blaze from her mind and ignore visions of the bottomless gray eyes that had captivated her. Even in pain, Blaze was strong-willed and determined. Undoubtedly, there were other admirable characteristics she possessed. But Blaze wasn’t available, that much was clear. DJ had just pissed on her territory, marking Blaze as her own. Maybe they were more than friends and Blaze simply hadn’t said as much. It wasn’t her business, and the fact that it irked her suggested she needed to back off.

  It was time she stopped her ludicrous infatuation with a stranger and concentrated on her own priorities. Ones that didn’t include Blaze Carter.

  Chapter Seven

  “From my assessment you’re going to need therapy three times a week for at least two months. Maybe longer, unless you’re devoted to your home regime.” Cassie, the physical therapist, looked over her chart as she perched on the edge of Blaze’s bed.

  Blaze blinked hard, thinking she’d been mentally prepared for whatever the therapist would tell her. The news drove home the severity of her injury. Two months. And that was just the beginning, a best-case scenario. What if she never regained…no. She couldn’t think like that. A defeatist attitude wouldn’t do her any good. Therapy wouldn’t be half as difficult as the death of her grandfather.

  “When do we start?”

  Cassie’s mouth quirked into a smile. “I like your enthusiasm. If you can keep that attitude, you’ll be amazed at the progress you can make. It’s going to be painful and hard at first, but I know what I’m doing. Thirty plus years have taught me a thing or two about healing and possibilities. Having a strong will is a big part of recovery.”

  They set up a schedule to begin the day after her discharge. Blaze’s insurance would cover home therapy for the first month since Cassie didn’t want her driving yet. She was looking forward to going home tomorrow. As promised, Dr. Jonas made sure she’d been “unstrung” four times a day to stretch her muscles, and she wiggled her stiff fingers often. He’d finally taken away the traction this morning, satisfied there was minimal residual swelling. In her favor, the strong muscles in her forearm had helped hold most of the arm’s anatomy in place when it broke, but he’d had to do a major repair on a muscle that had been torn. He wasn’t sure how much strength she’d regain.

  Alone with her thoughts, she craved the company of her parents and her pain in the ass brother, a home cooked meal, and a shower in her own bathroom. The perfect remedy to counteract her discontent. Tomorrow. She could have all of those tomorrow. It would also be the day she got to see her arm unbandaged for the first time. She stared down where it rested on a pillow draped over her thigh with another tucked under her elbow for support. Everything considered, she was fairly comfortable. Her pain level was tolerable most of the time and she’d asked to be switched to a non-narcotic medication. The highlight from yesterday was going to the restroom for the first time without assistance. Wiping with her left hand had been a bit of a challenge because everything was backward, but she’d figure out how to manage on her own in every way.

  She wondered what was taking DJ so long. She’d left when Cassie came in to do her assessment, saying she needed real coffee from across the
street. Knowing DJ, Blaze guessed she’d been bored. Blaze reviewed her restrictions list and her therapy schedule and made her own list of things for her parents to bring tomorrow so she would be comfortable on the drive home. Some of her shirts might have to be cut to accommodate her new bandage, depending on how big the final one was, so she included an oversized, faded flannel shirt, one of her old tank tops, and sweats. Her father was heading to her workshop to see what projects he could finish for her and to make calls to customers to explain the imminent delay in orders. She agreed with his suggestion of giving her remaining customers the option of voiding their contracts.

  There was a knock on her door and her heart sped up. Trinity hadn’t been by yesterday and had yet to show today. “Come in.”

  A petite PCA popped her head in. “Hi, I’m Pam. I heard you’re going home tomorrow and thought you might like to freshen up a bit today.”

  Disappointment coursed through her. There wasn’t any reason to expect Trinity to continue to drop in. She likely checked on her patients for a day or two, and once they were better, she wouldn’t keep visiting.

  “A shower sounds great.” It had been four days since she’d been admitted, and she was beginning to feel skeevy. She had clean underwear and the shorts DJ had brought her, but warmer clothes wouldn’t arrive till tomorrow.

  “I’m sure it does, but not today. You’ll have to wait until the bandages come off for that. A sponge bath is the best I can offer. If you don’t mind my help, you can do what you can reach, and I can hold your arm.”

  Blaze didn’t know why she would have preferred Trinity to be the one to help her, especially after the catheter thing, but she couldn’t help it. Maybe she’d been off the last couple of days. Coming up with a plausible excuse eased the irrational feeling of abandonment but not the desire to let her know she was being discharged.

  “I don’t mind your help, but my only clean clothes are boxers and shorts.”

  “I think I have a solution. Be right back.” Pam slipped out the door.

  The least she could do was be ready when Pam returned. Blaze swung her leg over the side of the bed and lifted her injured arm with her other hand so it followed the rest of her body. She’d learned that little trick the hard way the first time she’d tried to move, leaving behind her broken arm and shoulder where it lay on pillows. Those muscles weren’t working the way they normally did.

  “What kind of a coffee shop runs out of stoppers?” DJ strode in with a tray and a bag precariously perched in the middle. She set them down and smiled. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m getting ready for a bath.”

  “Really? That’s great. I didn’t want to tell you but you’re getting a little ripe around the edges.”

  Blaze grabbed the closest object in her reach and threw the box of tissues, aiming for her head. DJ deflected it, then attempted to look shocked. “Gee, best friends aside, I thought you’d like to know.” She sat back in the chair and peeled off the lid. The rich, sweet caramel aroma filled the space between them.

  Blaze laughed. “You didn’t happen to see Trinity in your travels, did you?”

  DJ looked into her coffee and used a stirrer to whip up the foam. “Not today.”

  “Did she say anything to you the last time you saw her?”

  “No. Why?” DJ finally made eye contact. “What difference does it make? If you need something, I’m sure one of the staff will get it. Most of the people seem nice.”

  Why indeed. That was the sixty-four thousand dollar question. She couldn’t help the stirring she felt in her lower belly whenever Trinity was around. “I wanted to thank her for checking on me, that’s all.” What she didn’t tell DJ was she’d been hoping to get Trinity’s phone number.

  Pam came into the room carrying a stack of scrubs, saving her from explaining her interest any further. Pam grinned. “They aren’t the latest fashion statement, but they’re loose and pretty comfortable.”

  “They’ll be fine.” Blaze stood, holding her arm. She nudged her chin toward the bathroom. “Shall we?” Getting naked in front of one more person wasn’t top on her list, but getting clean was, so she’d endure.

  DJ pulled out her phone. “I’ll be here when you’re done, but I can’t promise the pastry will survive.”

  “And you call yourself my best friend,” Blaze said over her shoulder.

  Twenty minutes later, she came out wearing some of the most comfortable clothes she’d ever worn. The scrubs had been washed enough times that the material was smooth and soft, and the drawstring closure, while a bit challenging, could be loosely tied since Pam had brought a size she could work up and down on her own.

  “Feel better?” DJ dropped her phone in her bag and got Blaze’s coffee and Danish ready for her.

  Blaze sat on the edge of the bed after thanking Pam for her help. Her disappointment lingered, but she shook it off. With no sign of Trinity, she focused on the cheese pastry, picking up half and taking a bite. The sweet, soft, gooey layers melted in her mouth and the cheese was just right. Not too tart and not too sweet. She chewed and swallowed, then washed it down with the lukewarm coffee. “That’s really good.”

  “I know. I was tempted to buy the whole lot, but neither one of us can go to the gym at the moment so I settled on three. There’s one for you for later.” DJ shared a naughty smile.

  “Oh, so it’s okay for me to put on pounds.”

  “You never gain weight, and you know it. No matter what you shove in your face, it’s like you’re on a liquid diet.” DJ wrinkled her nose. “Your dad messaged me while you were cleaning up. He has a few questions about orders.”

  “I’ll call him in a bit. How’s everything going in the real estate market?”

  “It’s steady. I’ve signed a few contracts for million-dollar homes. If they sell, I’ll make enough for that European trip I’ve been gushing over.”

  “You’ll get there.” DJ excelled at selling and Blaze wondered, as she often did, why DJ’s personal life contrasted her work one. She’d had a few live-in girlfriends, but none of the relationships had lasted. After each one ended, DJ spiraled into depression for months, and Blaze did her best to keep her spirits up. DJ could be charming, and funny. She was great at crunching numbers and was a definite fashionista, making her a great catch, though none of the women she dated stayed around for the long haul. Knowing her friend emotionally suffered from the fallout hurt her, too.

  Blaze finished and tossed her trash in the can. She was getting good at left-handed baskets. “Thanks for the treat.”

  “Welcome.” DJ stood up abruptly. “I’ve got a showing. What time do you want me to come back?”

  She waved her off. The last thing she wanted was for DJ to be here more than she already was. Her heart was in the right place, bless her soul, but DJ could become overwhelming and Blaze’s patience was at an all-time low. Aside from that, she was pretty sure DJ’s presence was why Trinity hadn’t returned. Maybe she’d stop by later.

  “I’m good for tonight. Mom and Pop are picking up dinner and bringing me clothes to wear home. I’ll text you when I’m sprung.”

  DJ looked skeptical. “You sure?”

  “Yes. I’ll be fine. Being up and moving is exhausting. I’m going to take a nap. Cassie will drop by this afternoon to show me some exercises and give me some devices I can use at home.” She flexed her fingers and felt the tug up her arm. She was stiff and sore in a dozen places. The bruises spattered across her body reminded her how fortunate she’d been to escape with only one injury. The paramedics had been correct. It could have been a lot worse.

  “Okay.” DJ bent to kiss her cheek. “Text me if you think of anything.” She slung her ever present bag over her shoulder. “Tootles.”

  Alone for the first time all morning, Blaze settled back on the bed. It took her a bit of fluffing and stuffing to get the pillows just right, but she managed. Her eyes closed, and her vision filled with flashes of Trinity. Blaze wanted to know what her real motiv
es were for being around so much the first few days, followed by her sudden disappearance. As she drifted, Blaze tried to figure out what kind of person Trinity was when she wasn’t wearing her professional mask.

  Chapter Eight

  Trinity was still seething over DJ’s comments. DJ knew nothing about her, and regardless of her warning, she wanted to see Blaze again and hoped she hadn’t gone home. She stowed her purse and jacket in her locker and held the small bakery box. Trinity worried if giving her the modest gift was too much of a personal gesture. I’ll probably never see her again so what does it matter?

  Trinity waved to the familiar staff and waited outside Blaze’s door. The sound of the TV almost guaranteed Blaze was alone, and she took a breath before poking her head in. Blaze sat in the recliner with the remote control, pressing the channel button every few seconds. She tapped on the door. “There’s nothing good on at this time of day.” Blaze’s disarming smile welcomed her, and her heartbeat kicked up a notch.

  “Hi,” Blaze said as she shut the TV off. “Thanks for rescuing me. I feared a slow death of boredom.”

  “I wasn’t sure you’d still be here.” For a second, she considered telling her why she hadn’t come sooner, but it would serve no purpose. Hurting others wasn’t in her nature, so she let it go.

  “I get sprung tomorrow. I can’t wait to go home.”

  She hoped Blaze couldn’t see her disappointment. “Most people are more than ready after a couple of days at our luxury resort.”

  Blaze laughed. “I imagine so.” A current in the air between them washed over her. It wasn’t tension, but whatever it was it made her skin prickle and she presented the box. “I brought you a treat.”

  “You did?” Blaze looked surprised. “That was nice of you.” She took the offering and struggled for a moment before she got the lid open. “Scones!” She grinned. “One of my all-time favorites.”