Authors: Kristina Knight
Mr. Right Now (25 page)
“You don’t think I should try and ask to see Grace?” I said in a hush. “Maybe she just didn’t like you.”
He shook his head. “No way. I don’t want that temper of yours getting us both kicked out of here.”
My gaze shifted from Blondie back to Matt. Okay, maybe I wasn’t always the queen of tact. So sue me.
“Jess,” he warned.
I sank back down, arms crossed. “Stupid rules. So, what do we do now?”
“We wait.”
* * * *
At seven o’clock, we’d both had enough of the hurry up and wait routine. Matt took off to locate a vending machine with the ulterior motive of trying to find an unlocked door that might lead us back to Grace. I remained behind on the lookout for any signs of Mr. or Mrs. Sullivan, my patience waning by the minute.
If I didn’t get an update on Grace soon, heads were going to roll.
Once Matt was out of sight, I traded our front row seats for two in the far corner of the room. From there I kept watch for Grace’s parents, relieved to have put some distance between myself and the near constant stream of people with varying ailments shuffling in and out of the lobby. Head wounds, broken arms, bad colds–you name it, they were here.
And every single one of them made me uneasy.
There was a reason I’d chosen computers over nursing–flesh wounds and runny noses weren’t exactly my cup of tea. In fact, I usually did my utmost to avoid any medical-related environments. Especially hospitals and nursing homes.
Matt re-appeared fifteen minutes later, a bottle of Diet Mountain Dew in one hand and a Coke Zero in the other.
I pulled the collar of my t-shirt, which I’d been using as an impromptu respirator, down from my nose. “No luck?”
He lowered himself into the seat next to me and handed over the Coke. “No, dammit. This place is locked down tighter than Fort Knox.”
“It figures. Well, thanks for trying. And for the drink. “
“Sure.”
Of all the guys Grace had dated over the years, Matt was by far my favorite. He always focused on her, never on me. Around him, I could relax and be myself.
We soon fell into a comfortable silence. Well, as comfortable as we could be, considering where we were and why we were there. I’d just recapped my drink when Matt suddenly planted his elbow into my side.
“Hey, Jess!”
Pain radiated from the point of impact. “What?” I asked through clenched teeth.
“See the cop walking toward the registration desk?”
I glanced across the room at the man in uniform approaching Blondie, then shot Matt a dirty look as I rubbed my sore ribcage. “Yeah. So?”
“I think he’s the one I talked to when they were loading Grace into the ambulance.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Matt and I stared at each other for half a second, then launched from our seats, hungry for answers.
The officer stood with his back to us, absorbed in conversation with a young, busty nurse who’d just emerged from the back hallway. Even from behind, I could tell he wasn’t the middle-aged, ex-marine with a spare tire around the middle and salt-and-pepper buzz cut that I’d expected to see after hearing Matt speak of him earlier. He couldn’t have been much older than me. And no evidence of midriff excess…or excess anywhere else, for that matter. His broad shoulders tapered down to a slender but solid waist, giving his upper body a nice, well-defined V-shape. The back of his neck still held a trace of summer tan, and not a single gray hair could be seen throughout his thick mane of dark, wavy locks.
Shame on me for having such a lackluster imagination.
It was a view I might have enjoyed, had our circumstances been different. Eye candy or not, his failure to turn around after thirty seconds or so began to piss me off. I faked a cough, which garnered a nasty look from the nurse.
The officer turned toward the sound and his gaze fell upon Matt. Recognition soon washed over his face, and he extended out his hand. “Mr. Harris.”
The front view of Mr. Officer was even better than the one from behind. I scanned his face, and couldn’t help but admire his smooth jaw line, perfect nose and brilliant blue eyes. Blue eyes?
Oh, no.
“Officer Steele,” Matt said, extending his own hand out.
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Armed With Steele by Kyra Jacobs
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