Rumor Going ‘Round Read online

  I head back to Mrs. Smith, stepping back up next to her now that the x-rays are all done. “I poked my head over to check on your husband, and they’re working on getting him fully checked over. I promise I’ll keep you updated once they’ve had the chance to fully evaluate him,” I tell her as the ultrasound tech shows up with her mobile machine.

  “Thank you, dear,” she says, squeezing my hand.

  “This will be a little cold,” the ultrasound tech warns before she squirts some gel on Mrs. Smith's abdomen. She starts to scan her, and I sigh in relief when no internal bleeding is found. Her pain is just from the trauma of the seatbelt locking upon impact. While that will cause some nasty bruising, it will be a lot easier to heal from than an emergency surgery to fix internal bleeding would be.

  “Good news, Mrs. Smith,” Dr. Knight says. “You won’t be needing surgery today. We’ll get your foot booted and keep you for some observation for a few more hours, but otherwise, I think that you’ll heal just fine. You’ll need to follow up with an orthopedist in two to three days for the foot.”

  “Thank you so much, doctor. How’s my husband?” she questions, still holding on to my hand.

  “He’s still being assessed by one of my colleagues, but I do believe he’s possibly going to need surgery. I do know they asked for a consult with the general surgeon on call. Lindsay, here, can check in with his team and get some more information for you,” he tells her, nodding his head in my direction.

  “Let me go check on him now,” I tell her, squeezing her hand before I pull my own from her grip. I press the button on her bed to help her sit up some before I leave the bay to go check on her husband.

  “Can I get an update for the patient’s wife, who is in bay one?” I ask Dr. Murray.

  “We’re prepping him for surgery. He’s got a bleed in the intestines and possibly his bladder; we’ll know for sure once we get him open. Other than that, he’s got a few abrasions from the glass. He should be good to go in a few hours. I anticipate him needing one, maybe two nights inpatient, depending on how his pain management is post-surgery, as long as we don’t find anything we’re not expecting,” Dr. Murray tells me.

  “Thank you, I’ll update his wife,” I tell her as I step away and back to my patient. I quickly update her. “Before he’s taken to surgery, I’ll try to get you over to him. How’s the pain?” I question.

  “It’s getting much better,” she tells me, and I can tell that the pain meds have finally kicked in.

  “I’m going to go grab you a wheelchair, then we can take you over to see Mr. Smith.”

  “Thank you, dear,” she says, and I head for a chair.

  5

  Tucker

  “Let’s get this party started!” Lee calls out as he unloads the back of his truck. I walk over, giving him a hand. I grab two cases of beer along with a bag of ice.

  “How much did you buy?” I ask, looking at how much more he’s got back here.

  “Didn’t want to run out before the night is over.” He smirks. “It isn’t a party if we run out of beer.”

  “Yeah, but everyone coming is supposed to bring their own, remember?” I ask as we walk around to the back deck, where I’ve already got a few coolers ready to be filled with ice and beers.

  “What time are people showing up?” he asks, popping the top on a beer before sucking half of it down in one gulp.

  “Anytime they want, but I figure most won’t show up until closer to kickoff,” I tell him, looking at my watch and seeing that we still have around an hour until then. “Let’s get everything else unloaded and set up, and then we can kick back,” I suggest and take off for his truck again.

  Another trip to Lee’s truck, and we’ve got everything out. I set up a folding table on the deck to hold food and drinks that others bring. We get the condiments pulled out, as well as the buns for the burgers and hot dogs that I’ll throw on the grill once more people show up, and everyone is ready to start eating. My mom dropped by earlier with large bowls of her homemade baked beans and coleslaw. That woman is a saint, and I’ll love her until the day I die.

  “I’m surprised Paisley isn’t here tonight,” Lee comments as we kick back on the couch. The pre-game coverage already started. Bulldog games are big here, but make it against a rival like Alabama, and people go crazy.

  “I figured tonight wasn’t the best night for her to be around. I didn’t want it to get too rowdy, so she’s having a night with Nona and Papa since she’d normally be here with me. She was a-okay with that plan, so were my parents. They’re probably spoiling the fuck out of her right now,” I tell him, taking a drink of my own beer.

  “That girl is going to walk all over all of you when she’s a teenager,” he muses. He might be joking and trying to bust my balls about it, but I’m scared shitless that he’s not kidding.

  Our attention is pulled to the sound of car doors closing and voices hollering outside as people start to arrive. I open the screen door, seeing that some of the guys from the station have arrived, along with their significant others, if they have them.

  I welcome everyone in, showing them where best to stash drinks and food. Everyone knows each other, so I don’t have to worry about introductions as more and more people arrive as we near kickoff. I keep my eye out, hoping like crazy that Lindsay will show up sooner rather than later. I’ve had this deep desire to see her again. My hands itch to have her in my arms, so if she shows up tonight, I’m going to have to make that happen. Hopefully, she’ll stick around for after the game when we light the bonfire and start the music. I could go for dancing with her in the dark, holding her body close to mine as we sway together.

  “Yo, earth to Tucker,” Lee says, smacking the back of my head as he flashes his other hand in front of my face.

  “Fuck off,” I clap back at him, laughing at the sting of pain from him hitting the back of my head. “What the fuck do you need?” I ask.

  “You’ve got company,” he tells me, pointing out the back door and onto the deck. Standing there next to the cooler is a vision. Lindsay is talking with some of the other women in attendance, a beer in her hand, so she’s obviously been here for at least a couple minutes. I can see her in profile, and she’s never looked more beautiful. Her hair is down in loose waves, jeans encase her slender legs, and the Bulldogs shirt she’s got on proudly displays her alma mater, that she’s rooting for tonight. My kinda girl!

  “Well, fuck me,” I muse under my breath, but loud enough, apparently, that Lee hears me.

  “You’d better make a move on that if you don’t want someone else swooping in and locking it down,” he tells me, smacking a hand against my shoulder, this time leaving it resting against me as he squeezes it and points out to a few guys who appear to be circling the group of women outside.

  “Fuck,” I curse as I head that way. No way in hell am I going to stand by while one of these fuckers tries to swoop in and steal the one woman I might actually want to pursue for more than a quick lay.

  “Ladies,” I greet the group of women talking. “Can I get anyone anything or show you where anything is?” I offer the group.

  “We’re good,” they all chime in at the same time. I look around the circle, my eyes lingering on Lindsay for a few moments longer than they do on anyone else.

  “Glad that you could make it; I’ve saved a seat for you inside if you wanted to come watch the game,” I offer. I hadn’t really, but she can take my seat. I’ll fucking stand, or better yet, she can sit on my lap while we watch the game.

  “Thanks,” she says, leaning in slightly as I pull her into my side for a makeshift side hug. What the fuck am I doing? A fucking side hug. Facepalm.

  I lead her into the house that is now filled with at least thirty people all milling around chatting as they watch the game. My hand finds the small of Lindsay’s back as I lead her over to where I’d been sitting, and, thankfully, the spot is still empty. She looks around and realizes that it’s the only open spot front and center. “I
can’t take your spot, Tuck,” she says, shortening my name, and all I can think of is her saying that while I fuck her. My dick springs to life in my jeans.

  “Sit down, fucker! Didn’t your mama ever tell you that you’re a better door than a window?” Lee calls out from where he’s standing behind the furniture.

  I just flip him the bird as I plop down on the chair, pulling Lindsay with me and into my lap. “If you don’t want to take my seat, then you can just sit with me,” I whisper into her ear as I push her hair off her shoulder and out of the way. My lips ghost along the skin of her neck, and I watch as it puckers from the sensation. Her entire body shivers in my arms, and I know that my breath on her skin has affected her, hopefully in a good way. “Cold?” I ask, just as the majority of everyone bursts out in a loud cheer. I look at the TV to see a replay of the quarterback throwing the perfect spiral pass to one of the receivers, who runs the ball in for a touchdown, putting the Bulldogs up six to nothing to open the first quarter of scoring.

  “No,” she says, squirming slightly in my arms, and it's at that moment that I realize the problem with her sitting on my lap like this. Her perfect little ass is going to be rubbing against my dick all night long, giving me the largest set of blue balls known to man. I adjust her slightly; hopefully, my dick isn’t pressing too much into her backside and giving me away right now. I find it hard to concentrate on the game with Lindsay in my lap, but the game eventually pulls me in for a little bit.

  Halftime rolls around, and the Bulldogs are leading twenty-one to fourteen. “I should go fire up the grill. You want anything other than a burger or hot dog?” I ask Lindsay before I stand her up so I can get myself up and to the grill.

  “No, either sounds perfect,” she says, turning to give me a sweet smile. I squeeze her hip with one hand and tuck a lock of hair behind her ear with the other before I break away from her and head for the grill.

  “Food time!” I call out to everyone as I fire it up. It doesn’t take me long to have a line of people waiting as they all load up plates with food. Not that everyone hasn’t been snacking on the other food that everyone brought, but now that its halftime and the grill is going, people are hungry.

  It takes me all of halftime and part of the third quarter to get everything grilled and my own plate assembled. I grab a couple beers from one of the coolers and make my way back inside. I find Lindsay back in the recliner we’d both occupied earlier, fully engrossed in the game. Bama has managed to tie things up, making this an exciting game, for sure.

  I set the beers down on the end table next to the chair and stand not entirely behind the chair, but not exactly beside it, either, kind of between the two. I make sure I’m not blocking anyone else that’s behind the couches standing to watch the game. I scarf down my burger and fixings. Mom’s baked beans are just as amazing as they always are.

  “You should have told me you were back. I would have let you have your seat back,” Lindsay says when she notices me standing back here.

  “I’m good; I didn’t want to spill on you,” I tell her as I finish off my plate. “But, I did bring you a beer if you want it.” I offer her one of the bottles.

  “Thanks,” she says, accepting the bottle after I pop the top off. I watch as she brings it to her mouth, her lips wrapping around the top of it as she tips it back. Fucking hell, when did watching a woman drink a beer cause me to turn into a fucking flagpole? I adjust myself as discreetly as possible as she swallows down the cold liquid.

  “Would you like to sit down now?” she asks, patting the open cushion that she’s not covering.

  “Only if you don’t go anywhere,” I tell her, going big or going home. I want this woman like I want my next breath. I think it's about time I stop beating around the bush, man up, and make a fucking move.

  “Okay,” she agrees, and stands as I round the chair. I sit back down, and she follows me back until we’re in the same position we were for the first half of the game.

  “Are you sticking around for the bonfire?” I ask once the game ends. Georgia pulled out the win with a touchdown as the clock expired in the fourth quarter.

  “Do you want me to?” she asks, her head still resting on my shoulder, where it's been for the last few minutes.

  “Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to,” I tell her. “Whatever happened to Allison coming tonight? I haven’t seen her around.”

  “She’s not much for football, but I think she was planning on stopping by for the bonfire. I’m supposed to text her when it gets going,” she says, sitting up so she can grab her cell off the end table. It was poking the two of us earlier because she had it tucked in her back pocket, she’d set it there, so it was out of the way. I watch as she unlocks the screen and pulls up her text messages. I look away, not wanting to invade her privacy as she taps away at the screen. “She’ll be here in ten,” she says, standing and sliding the phone into her back pocket.

  “I’m sure Lee will be happy about that,” I muse.

  “You think so?” she asks.

  “If the little bit that I actually heard out of him about last weekend has anything to say about their time together, it was something he’s definitely looking to repeat.”

  “I just hope he doesn’t break her heart,” she tells me honestly. “She’s not as flippant about things as she likes people to think.”

  “Give him a chance. He just needs the right woman to lock him down.”

  “And you?” she asks.

  “I just need a chance,” I tell her. The idea saying all I need is her is on the tip of my tongue. But I can’t spring that on her right now. We’ve only ever been friends. Whatever this is that is sparking between the two of us is something that I’m definitely going to attempt to unpack and see what comes of it.

  “You coming?” Lee shouts at me from the back doorway.

  “Hold your horses; we’re coming,” Lindsay calls out to him, laughing as she takes in his impatient look.

  I slip my hand into hers, linking our fingers together. I bring our clasped hands up to my mouth and kiss the back of her hand. “Come on, we’d better get out there before he lights my entire backyard on fire.”

  Lindsay laughs as I tug her toward the back door, and it's one of the best sounds I’ve heard in a long-ass time. Since when does a woman’s laugh rank up there as one of the best sounds I’ve ever heard? “Isn’t he a firefighter? Isn’t that the exact opposite of what y’all are trained to do?” she asks, still laughing.

  “You’d think.” I laugh right along with her. “But give that man some lighter fluid, and he goes a little crazy.”

  “Well, then go save your property,” she encourages once we’re out on the deck. I leave her side, taking off in a jog to catch up to Lee. We safely get the bonfire pile lit, the flames lighting up the night sky.

  Everyone that is still here starts making their way over to the fire. I head back for the porch, turning on the outdoor sound system with some country music. I also flip on the outdoor lights, lighting up the pond's pathway and the deck with twinkly lights.

  With all the food put away and the table out of the way, the deck opens up and becomes a makeshift dance floor. A few couples make their way over when an older Tim McGraw song comes on. I look around to see if I can find Lindsay. My hands itch to touch her again, to hold her close like I did during the game.

  I finally find her on the other side of the fire, sitting on one of the logs that surround the fire pit, talking with Lee and Allison, who obviously showed up while I was busy getting things going. I take in the way Lee is sitting behind Allison so that her back is to his front. His hands rest on her thighs as they face Lindsay. I sneak up behind her, mirroring the way Lee is sitting as I sit behind Lindsay. I slip a hand around her torso, my thumb finding a sliver of exposed skin where her shirt has ridden up from the top of her jeans. I draw lazy circles with the pad of my thumb, taking advantage of any inch of her creamy skin I can get my hands on.

  We sit around the fire
, shooting the shit with our friends for what feels like hours. The four of us trade stories from some of the calls and patients we’ve all dealt with over the years in our respective jobs. With Allison and Lindsay both nurses, and Lee and I both firefighters, we’ve all got some crazy times beneath our belts.

  “I should probably head home,” Lindsay finally says as she yawns. Her head has been resting back on my shoulder for the last thirty or so minutes, and I can feel her getting more and more tired as she melts into me as the minutes pass by.

  “I’ve got a spare room if you want to crash here for the night,” I offer.

  “That’s okay. I’m not far. I’ll be okay to make it home,” she says, yawning again.

  “You sure? I don’t mind at all.”

  “I’ll be fine, Tuck,” she says quietly, pressing a little more of her weight into me.

  “Then let me walk you to your car. You’re okay to drive, right?” I ask. I know she hasn’t had any alcohol since we’ve been sitting around the fire.

  “I’m as sober as can be,” she assures me as we stand up. Lee and Allison are both getting ready to leave, as well, and seeing as how we’re the last four out here, I guess it's time to call it a night myself.

  “What’s your schedule this week?” I ask as we make our way out to the driveway.

  “I work Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday day shift,” she tells me.

  “Are you always on days?” I ask.

  “Yep. Not many nurses rotate. Unless you’re a float nurse or covering for someone else, you work the same shift; the only thing that changes is what days we work. It doesn’t always work out, but I’m usually three on three off, but sometimes I’ll work three on two off or three on four off. Just kind of depends on people's vacation schedules and if we’ve got anyone out for maternity or some other kind of extended leave.”