At least this call might let him catch a quick look-see at his fiancé. She was working a twelve-to-twelve here in the ER, but by the looks of things, she’d probably be lucky to get home when Cash did.
The college girl they’d transported was strapped to the stretcher, but she somehow found the dexterity to flail around and grab Cash’s crotch with alarming accuracy. He tried to dodge with what probably looked like some kind of hot coal dance, but she latched on like the claw in an arcade game.
“Juthtin,” she slurred. “Gimme thome o’ that, baby.”
Cash gently squeezed a pressure point in her hand to release her drunken grip and tucked her arm back by her side.
“You’re a good guy, Kingston,” his partner said, but that didn’t keep her from chuckling.
He grunted. “Let’s see how you like it when she feels you up next.”
They wheeled the girl around a corner into what looked like a medical mosh pit. People in scrubs were hustling from room to room, and the waiting room receptionist poked her head into the hallway and called out, “We’ve got a full house out here.”
“No rooms available at the inn right now,” one of the nurses responded. “We’ll let you know as soon as we can triage more.”
Looked like they’d have to find a nice spot here in the hallway to park Miss Toasty for a few minutes. He was headed toward an area near the nurse’s station--decorated with a reindeer head fashioned from a bedpan and something that was either a Christmas tree made of inflated medical gloves or a mutant cow—when something slammed into the stretcher from the back, almost forcing it from his and Libby’s grip.
“Juthtin!” the girl said, flailing again and trying to look behind her.
Miss Toasty might be drunker’n a skunk, but her instincts were still sharp. Because sure enough, her boyfriend and his friends had followed them. Probably double parked in the ER bay and blocking the ambulance.
“Dude,” he said to the kid wearing a pricy down puffer jacket, who was now half leaning over his girlfriend’s head and onto the stretcher, “you shouldn’t be in here. You and your buddies can find a spot in the waiting room.”
The kid looked up, and by the network of red capillaries in his eyes, he was just as wasted as the girl. “Dude, I don’t—”
Only one gag, and there he blew. Vomit volcano-ed every-damn-where. All over the girl, off the stretcher, up Cash’s arm and across his chest. Amazing how a person who was barely standing on his own two feet could win first place in an Olympic puking competition.
“Jesus Christ,” Cash’s partner said, covering her face with the crook of her arm.
Yeah, no matter how much nasty stuff they all came into contact with, sometimes it still took you by surprise. And this psychedelic spew had the scent of months old Easter eggs and… peppermint. Still, Cash grabbed the kid before he slid off the stretcher and hit the floor. Hell, he couldn’t get much more disgusting, so Cash pretty much bear hugged the guy and hefted him onto an empty stretcher.
“I see you’ve brought me a couple of pretty presents tonight, Cash. Remind me to thank you later. Much, much later.”
Cash turned to find Dr. Emerson McKay, hands on hips and mouth twisted into a resigned scowl, staring down at the kid. Emmy’s dark braid hung over one shoulder, and she pushed it behind her back to glance up at him. “Give me the rundown on them.”
“They’re both shit-faced.”
That brought a reluctant smile to her beautiful face, and Cash automatically took a step toward her but was warded off by her outstretched arm. “No closer. You smell—and look—like a well-used emesis basin. Any idea what they drank or took?”
As much as it pained him to smell himself, Cash took a tentative breath. “No one was talking, but I’m pretty sure peppermint schnapps is gonna be permanently banned from my liquor cabinet.”
A nurse hurried by and said to Emmy, “Room six just opened up.”
Emmy motioned to Cash’s partner. “Let’s take them both in.” When Cash made to push the stretcher, Emmy grabbed it and pointed him toward the staff lounge. “Extra scrubs are in the cabinet. Go hose yourself off.”
As Cash turned away from Emmy, he saw the evening he’d planned for the two of them slipping even further away. He had music, food, candles, and champagne all ready to go. He’d also splurged on something for the bedroom that he hoped would help him romance and seduce the woman he planned to marry. But that was looking less likely with every breath he took because what woman in the history of the world had ever been turned on by the smell of regurgitated peppermint schnapps?
* * *
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Discover More Steele Ridge
STEELE RIDGE: THE STEELES
The BEGINNING, A Novella
Going HARD, Book 1
Living FAST, Book 2
Loving DEEP, Book 3
Breaking FREE, Book 4
Roaming WILD, Book 5
Stripping BARE, Book 6
Enduring LOVE, A Novella, Book 7
Vowing LOVE, A Novella, Book 8
STEELE RIDGE: THE KINGSTONS
Craving HEAT, Book 1
Tasting FIRE, Book 2
Searing NEED, Book 3
Striking EDGE, Book 4
Burning ACHE, Book 5
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Also by Tracey Devlyn
NEXUS SERIES
Historical romantic suspense
A Lady’s Revenge
Checkmate, My Lord
A Lady’s Secret Weapon
Latymer
Shev
* * *
BONES & GEMSTONES SERIES
Historical romantic mystery
Night Storm
* * *
TEA TIME SHORTS & NOVELLAS
Sweet historical romance
His Secret Desire
TEAM STEELE RIDGE
Edited by Martha Trachtenberg
Cover Design by Elizabeth Mackey
Author Photo by Lisa Kaman Kenning, Mezzaluna Photography
* * *
Copyright © TDC Creations, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented—except in the case of brief quotations—without permission in writing from Steele Ridge Publishing.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Digital Edition, November 2020, ISBN: 978-1-948075-61-9
For more information contact: [email protected]
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author Tracey Devlyn wanted to be the next Dian Fossey and explore the wilds of Africa, but that was before she met chemistry and calculus and realized a business major, rather than a science degree, might be a better fit. With an enthusiasm for research that translates into creative (and disturbing) plot twists for her characters to navigate, it’s no surprise that her suspense-laden stories excite her readers and offer a glimpse of the nefarious nature lurking behind her sweet smile. Despite the thrilling, emotional ride she gives her readers, Tracey enjoys an annoyingly normal lifestyle with her husband and rescue dogs at her home in the mountains of North Carolina.
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[email protected]
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