I snorted a laugh. “Good one.”
“Excuse me?” She frowned at me.
“Diabetic? Seriously?”
She slowly stood up from her crouch over him—
Oh! Right! I saw that in a movie before. She was listening to his heart. Or lungs. Both? Maybe. That necklace was a…dammit, it would hit me.
“Diabetes is no joke,” she snapped, perhaps impossibly confused by my attitude now.
Stetopipe. Stetoscope. A scope, yeah. What were those things called? Aunt Helen told me about them once. That when she was little, she and her younger sister used to play doctor and pretend they had one. Not my mom, my other aunt—who ended up as a medic somewhere on another continent. My mom was a drifter, or that was the nicest way Aunt Helen had ever referred her. “No one has diabetes anymore.”
Stethoscope! I knew it’d hit me.
She crossed her arms and stared at me.
“They cured diabetes, like, back in the late forties.” I ended with laughter that weakened the longer she deadpanned at me.
Stop. Just stop speaking. This was a fine way to make her suspicious of me. I knew there was no way she could understand me, but…it was hard to adjust to an entire new reality.
“Are you thinking of polio?” Her bitchy smirk pissed me off. Holier than thou and all.
“Uh, no. Wait, you mean the biowarfare version?” I scoffed, not even caring if she thought I was a nutso spouting off about the future. “I wish they could figure out how to eliminate that threat.”
She licked her lips, seeming to hesitate to reply. “Are you…all right?”
Other than being back in time, yeah. “As far as I can tell.”
Again, she stared at me. “Diabetes. Cured.” Now she gave a scoff of disbelief.
Her unwillingness to take my word for it pissed me off. I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t. It was crazy that I was here, but I was right. In the late forties, 2040s, not the 1940s, diabetes—Type 1 and 2—were declared a problem of the past.
“Oh, sure,” she drawled.
“Or it will be cured.”
“Uh-huh.” Now she was just being sassy.
“In the 2040s,” I clarified.
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, and I bet there’s some kind of new and ‘super-scary’ coronavirus about to break out, too.” She shook her head. “What a hoax.”
“No. That’s uh, that’s coming.”
“Right.”
I frowned deeper. “Seriously. I mean, it’s there in the late-fifties too, but not as bad then.”
“Uh-huh.”
How cute. I had a smartass nurse for help. My worry about talking of the future faded in the face of her attitude.
“You said you’re in grad school?”
“Yeah. And I know better than to listen to all the fake news and the propaganda and—”
I held my hand up, hoping that still meant shut up in this decade.
Her immediate disbelief sparked a strange fight in me. No, she couldn’t know any of this. There was no way she could. Well, the corona stuff, she should be aware of it. If she’d actually read a damn thing in class, she’d know all types of viruses existed throughout the centuries. And this ‘new’ one was right at her doorstep. According to my history profs, part of the problem had been people losing their desire to believe in science. I shouldn’t be revealing the future to her anyhow, but I just couldn’t stand the idea of her being so…so self-righteous and ignorant.
“It will come. And does. None of it is as bad as the Abola outbreak later on, from what I read, but still—”
“Abola? You mean ebola?”
“No. Abola.”
“Yeah, you keep on fantasizing, okay?”
My shoulders slouched. Not that again. This girl from the past was not going to slam that label on me too. I didn’t have frivolous creativity or a runaway imagination like Aunt Helen often accused. “Abola coli. It happens. I swear to God.”
I’d earn nothing in trying to convince her, but dammit, I couldn’t let her dismiss me like I was the idiot. I’d been dismissed all my life. “The outbreak starts in—”
I was yanked down before I could finish. A steel grip at my shirt hauled me lower, eliciting a gasp—a sudden reaction that my stranger swallowed as he kissed me silent.
Chapter Six
Smoky spice.
His taste was bold as he stole my breath.
Hot, addictive, and not enough.
Muffling my pathetic squeak of surprise, I dove into his kiss and gave as good as I got.
The element of surprise stunned me at first, him jerking up—awake now, go figure—and claiming my lips. Instead of rage or peevishness that he’d just taken the liberty to sample my lips…
Oh, please, please don’t stop.
Now, his urgency, his raw need shocked me and prompted me to want more.
One kiss. A single press of his hard, demanding lips to mine. That was it. All that I needed to freaking go weak in the knees like an idiot.
Never before had a man taken charge like this, declaring an urgent desire for me, like he needed my kiss more than air itself. Like I was a drug to survive on. A remedy to hell on earth.
A kiss that I fell into beyond the condition of its unexpected surprise. This heady thrill was unlike any excitement I’d ever tolerated.
I gripped his jacket, fisting the lapel to lock him to me.
He flinched back.
I’d broken the spell.
Good. Lord!
What… Just what in the hell happened here?
Panting, I stared at him as he still clutched my shirt, securing me in his hold, our lips a couple of inches apart. His hot breath whipped at my open mouth, and I licked my lips.
He quirked a brow, tracking my tongue for a moment. Then he sobered and whispered harshly, “Shut the hell up.”
Frowning, I shoved him back. He fell to the cushion, but with the fall, he adopted an easy smile and swung his legs over the edge of the furniture.
Damn him, making me weak and gaga, then acting like such a tool in the next breath.
“Wow. Um. Hi.” The nurse blinked fast and giggled at him. Brushed her hair behind her ear and blushed.
Oh, give me a break. Little Miss Student Nurse’s bedside manner had turned to a hopefully-in-his-bed manner.
“Thanks…for helping,” he said and stood.
Gone were his stumbling steps and slurred speech. Speedy and stable, he got to his feet and gripped my hand. I smacked his fingers away. He claimed them again, with a harder grip. Once more, I shook off his hand. Then he grabbed them with a punishing hold, and I surrendered, swallowing back a few choice words. For now.
For fuck’s sake. I’m not going to run away from you.
The nurse eyed our hand fight and peered at him. Less flirtation and more confusion. “Your back. You were wounded—”
“Oh…no. I’m fine.” Already he began backtracking with me in tow.
“You were bleeding,” she insisted, glancing at me, as though she could count on me as a backup witness.
I had no idea what was going on. I saw the same thing she had, but I felt no injury on his hot flesh. But if this kissing fool thought it best to go, I’d side with him. Clearly, she wouldn’t embrace the idea that I was from the future. “I told you. He was borrowing them.”
“I’m a stuntman,” he said as we backed up hastily.
“Seriously?” She gawked. Dammit. Flirty nurse was back. “Like an actor?”
“Yep. We’re filming a movie nearby. About the Roaring Twenties.” He winked, and even I could admit it was suave and charming instead of cocky and cheesy.
“Wow!” the nurse said. “Another Great Gatsby or something? Awesome!”
If she had any more praise, it was destined to fall on deaf ears because we were weaving past people with trays or bags of food, nearly running now.
Again.
I winced as the flare of pain shot up from my feet.
“The sky is falling!”
“What?” my stranger said. “What else were you telling them?”
“Nothing.” I lifted a hand to wave at Walt as we left.
“Come—”
“On,” I snapped, finishing for him. I wasn’t so clueless to follow his lead. “Are you going to pass out again? Or whatever you did back there?”
“Aw.” He squeezed my fingers. “Worried about me, sweetheart?”
I wrenched my hand free from his hold just as we exited the homeless shelter. The double doors had been closed. No wonder why. Rain poured from the sky.
“Don’t you sweetheart me.”
He smirked at me, turning to face me on the sidewalk. Long brown hair matted to his head, concealing his eyes again. Without the veil of his messy hair, his stare still would have been dark. Broody. What he saw in me, almost glowering like that…
I shuddered, even though we’d only just started this drenched-clothes phase.
I’d be stupid to assume he was weak, regardless of his earlier crash. This was a lethal man, a fighter. Still a stranger, most importantly, and dangerous.
His attention seemed riveted on my lips, stuck there. As a grin lifted one side of his lips, my shudder turned into a gentler shiver.
He was dangerous all right, in more ways than one. Not the time to get…swoony, fool.
I gulped. “Worried about you? I don’t even know who you are!”
Chewing on his lower lip, he seemed to debate answering me. “Jake,” he finally said. “Now, let’s go.”
“Where? Back to my time?”
“I wish.” Jerking his chin toward the right, he led the way. He slicked his hair from his eyes and surveyed the soaked cityscape. “That’s the goal, anyway. To get you back there. Until I can return you, you have got to shut the hell up.”
“Excuse me. I was doing the best I could. You conked out on me, and I had no idea what was going on. I still don’t know what’s going on. So don’t get mad at me that I had to enlist a little help.” I was glad I’d had some help, even though it didn’t seem like our nurse had even done anything for him.
He held up a hand as though to silence me as we walked. At least he didn’t have the audacity to kiss me quiet again. Or maybe that was my loss.
Shaking my head, I clung to my annoyance. No. He had no right to claim me as his. That was final. My…lust be damned.
“Yeah, yeah. I got that. But you cannot go off telling random people about the future like that. The consequences of those ideas, even those thoughts could have adverse reactions.”
Crap. The infamous grandfather paradox. I’d heard of the theory from movies and books. If someone altered actions in the past, it could set up a ripple effect of changes in the future, too.
I wiped at my eyes, clearing my vision some. “It wasn’t like she believed me anyway.”
“Doesn’t matter. As long as we’re here, just don’t say anything more than what’s necessary to anyone.”
“Including you?”
He shot me a sharp look, and I flipped him off.
Then I’ll start now, asshole. I zipped my lips, letting my anger keep me warm as we hastened in a walk down the street. He wanted mute company. Fine.
Then again… Well, he’d hardly answered anything.
“What happened to you earlier? Why’d you pass out?”
His shoulder rose with a deep heave of an exhale.
“You said you had too much too soon.”
“Jumping time,” he answered.
Even though we stood a couple of feet apart on this mostly deserted sidewalk in the crappier part of town, I heard his stomach rumble.
“Jumping time? Where’d you come from? Why here? How? And why me?”
His groan was low but not the husky kind. “No. Why me? Of all the targets and missions to get mixed with, I had to get assigned to you.”
My jaw dropped and hung open. Not for long. This rain was something fierce. Blinking through the watery haze, I stammered, so furious I could just…just…
He chuckled, glancing at my fist I slowly raised. “Temper, sweetheart.”
I punched, or tried to. His large hand caught mine easily, and he spun with the momentum, turning me around with him, so I’d ended up under his arm.
Fuming, I set off walking with him, like we were a silly couple strolling in the rain. He did block most of the wind that was picking up. That was the only reason I gave in.
I jabbed my elbow into his ribs as hard as I could.
The ooft he let out eased my anger. There. “I am not your sweetheart.”
“No. Nothing sweet as far as I can see.”
He dodged me stomping on his foot as though sidestepping was routine.
“Sweet, sour, bitter. You pick, I don’t care. But we need to hole up for the night.” Again, his stomach rumbled. “Find something to eat. Clothes. You can carry on with your attitude when we’re dry and hidden.”
Oh, I most certainly would, but I hated how instantly I’d let him take charge. “Who says I am going with you?”
My only other option was to return to where I’d woken up, but it seemed sticking with Jake and his plan would be wisest.
He tightened his arm, snugging me closer to the wall of his hard chest as he stopped walking. Underneath the awning of some shop, he peered down at me. Water dripped along his nose, and he licked his lips. Staring so intensely, I mentally fidgeted. Such a slow, smoldering scrutiny.
“Why should I go with you?” I asked, proud I wasn’t entirely breathy with my words. I swallowed hard, sticking to my confidence the best I could.
What was I supposed to do when such a beast of a man stared so hard, it seemed he was stripping me to the core?
As soon as I spoke, I wanted to cringe. Regardless of my instant attraction to him, why should I go anywhere with him, this guy—the only person who really knew me? He was responsible for why I was even in this year. He’d seen to my safety against those other guys. Simple. What other option do I have?
“Please?” he asked instead.
We both knew I was stuck with him. But it was a nice change in his style to ask. Softly, too.
I sighed, accepting defeat. “Fine. Shelter, food, clothes. How the hell are we going to get any of that? Do you have your tab?”
He backed up and reentered the rain to walk. “Tab? The tech for those won’t be around for twenty-some years.”
Right. Then how—
“I’ve got some age-old tricks up my sleeve.”
*
By tricks, he meant breaking and entering. Theft. Ordinarily, I might have been appalled at the ease by which he picked a lock. Bewilderment that there were doorknobs on doors distracted me instead. I mean, what did people expect, securing a door with simple gears and a metal ball?
With dexterity and a no-nonsense calm, he grabbed cash and a handful of garments for us. Then with said cash, he bought some food and checked us into a hotel.
I’d never been to a hotel before since Aunt Helen never sought traveling and she was a tightwad with money. While I’d seen plenty in movies, I wasn’t prepared for the…lack of welcome in them.
I offered no critique nor commentary through this adventure. Partly because I was so caught up on the details. Doorknobs. Cars zipping by on the road. Security cameras that stayed stationary to the wall. Bags—plastic, again!—of food available for purchase at places that seemed to offer hoses that connected to cars. In the lobby of the lodging he’d found, I stared, dumbfounded, as the girl tapped buttons on this monstrously enormous computer. Why was it so fat? And squat? A keyboard? That you had to touch? How tedious.
Jake dragged me away from staring. We stood in front of an elevator, waiting.
“You’ve done this before?” That was the only question I’d asked all night, watching as he flipped his thumb through the wad of money he’d nabbed from a couple of apartments.
The kind of familiarity he wore suggested this was something of
a habit, if not skill.
He paused, peering at me, one brow cocked up.
“Stealing.” I wavered under his hard scrutiny. I wasn’t accusing him of a crime. In fact, the finesse he showed at committing a sin made him—dare I say it—even hotter. A bad boy. That appeal would never fail me. I’d asked out of curiosity, not judgment. “Um. Finding money. Knowing…how to do all this?” Without looking like you’re floundering in an alien world.
A sigh was his answer. He resumed counting the flat green slips. “I’ve been around the block a few times, yeah.”
I leaned around him, peering out the front lobby window that showed the still-wet city beyond. This one?
He chuckled, a low, soft sound that instantly reminded me he was human, after all. And that I amused him. How cute. Not.
“I’ve been around, Everly. Learned a few things.” He shrugged, as though that was obvious.
“Been around here?” I asked, following him as we entered the elevator.
“Here. There. Everywhere.”
I pointed at him. “Dr. Seuss!”
He frowned, then rolled his eyes as recognition must have hit.
“Here is a relative idea. I’ve been through time. All over time.”
I followed him into our hotel room.
Two beds were pushed against the wall, Gray and white blankets covering them and so, so many pillows at the head. I blinked at the luxury. Under my feet was more of the squishy fabric. How they got a rug this plush and stretching wall to wall… I tuned out my awe and looked at him again. “How?” His comments claimed my attention.
“How what?”
“How do you go through time?” How did I?
He held up a hand from setting out purchases and stolen goods on the single table. “First things first.” In his hand, he held a wrapped log of some kind. “You wanna clean up or eat?”
“I can only do one?”
“First. Which would you prefer to do first?”
Oh. “I’ll clean up.”
He nodded, giving me his back. Tossing me the bag he’d stolen from an apartment, he said, “I think something in there should fit you.”
In the Wrong Year (Double-Check Your Destination Book 1) Page 5
