The Exception by Lauren H. Mae
Two
“Hey! Excuse me.”
Trav slowed up behind a family of five meandering the concourse, tossing out a few apologies as he pushed past them. He was a nice guy like that—honest, polite—and he had to get to the woman hefting her bags off of the turnstyle and convince her of that before she disappeared to make a phone call that could throw all of his plans out the window.
“Miss… uh… nurse?”
She turned slowly at the sound of his voice, her already-narrowed eyes letting him know she’d definitely recognized it. For some reason that nudged his cheeks into a smile.
But he had some explaining to do, so he quickly straightened it out.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Back there, on the plane? You were wrong.”
Shit.
That had slipped out a little differently than he’d intended, but now he was going to roll with it. “The woman had a medical card with her. I checked it for kidney issues before I asked for the juice, and I couldn’t rule out dehydration as a contributing factor, so the OJ was a solid call.”
She dragged her eyes down his face, and he could practically feel the burn as if she’d used her nails. Pretty pink nails that matched the sundress she wore. He couldn’t help but notice how it highlighted the curve of her hips. The rest of her was lean muscle—a runner maybe—but just like the song, those hips didn’t lie. No doubt about it, she was gorgeous.
Not the time, Trav.
“That doesn’t make me wrong,” she said. “It just makes you slightly less incompetent.”
A genuine laugh burst from his mouth. He’d always enjoyed a challenge. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s your specialty?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re a nurse. What kind? Trauma? ED?”
She tipped her chin defiantly. “Mental health. But—”
“Ah. Lots of experience in acute medical situations, huh?”
Her big brown eyes narrowed to slits. “I have a masters degree. We covered it all, and I work at a hospital where we get urgent admits all of the time. Comorbidities are common; hypoglycemia is extremely common.”
“Maybe so, but you’re talking about managing already stable patients resting in their cushy little beds, full medical staff on-site. This was an elderly woman, ten thousand feet above the ground having an acute episode, surrounded by people with no medical qualifications.”
“Yeah, like you.” She took a step forward and despite the fact that she had to tip her head to glare up at him, he was intimidated. “Have you even treated a patient yet? Or did you just cover that chapter in your latest study sesh.”
He crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. “I told you I was a combat medic. I’ve seen plenty.”
“You told the flight attendant you were a doctor, so forgive me for not believing a word that comes out of your mouth.”
He blew a breath toward the ceiling. She was a spitfire, this one. Better to forget checking out her legs in that sundress and get back to the part where he didn’t get brought up on ethics charges.
“I didn’t tell her that. She assumed.”
“And you didn’t correct her, Doctor Travis.”
Okay, she had him there, but it all happened so fast. “Look, you’re right. Maybe I was walking a line. But to be fair, I responded first and she was in distress. I’m qualified and I was trying to help.”
She mimicked his posture, crossing her own arms. They were so close now, their forearms brushed. He held his breath.
Finally she gave him a curt nod. “Well, congratulations, soldier. You get an A for effort.”
Then she hefted her bag over her shoulder and turned on her heel. For that, he definitely deserved the last look he stole of the back of her legs as she walked away.