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Grace climbs in next to me and fastens her seatbelt, studiously avoiding my gaze.
I blow out a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry for the whole babysitting comment before.”
Grace finally pins me with those silver eyes. “No, you’re not.”
My mouth thins, and my anger flares. “You’re right. I’m not. I’m just sorry you heard.”
“Now,that’sthe truth. That I can deal with.” Her mouth twists in a proxy of a smile. “I may not look like much, Mr Hardy, but don’t let that fool you. I can outrun and outwork anyone here, including you.”
The fire in her eyes ignites something long dead inside me. I’m behaving like an unreasonable fucker. It’s a defence mechanism because this woman is tying me up in emotional knots. And it scares me shitless.
I hold her gaze. “Prove it.”
* * *
As the calls come in,it’s clear that Grace is one of those annoyingly perky people who can't stop chattering and asking a zillion different questions. Her sunny disposition reminds me of Joel. He was the same, always laughing and joking. Always focused on the positives and used the negatives in his favour to grow and learn. The pain that comes with the memories of my brother in arms and my best friend bites deep, putting me in a bad mood and testing my patience with my new partner.
Grace babbles through a call out to an elderly lady who’s fallen, a man with diabetes who’s “forgotten” to eat, a child with a pen stuck up his nose, and a lady who thought she was having a coronary episode that turned out to be a panic attack.
Grace is eager and motivated–and every damn thing about her sets me on edge. Her perkiness, effervescence, andsweetness–rivalled only by the overly sugared coffee I choked down earlier when she offered it. And that pretty little mouth. I hate that I want to find out if those lips are as soft as they look. I hate that I’m attracted to her. I hate that her shiny optimism reminds me of myself before life dealt me a huge dollop of shit and turned me into a bitter, grumpy arsehole.
She drives me slowly mad all night long, and by the time we take a food break in the early hours, I’ve had enough.
“Any chance you could dial it down?” I growl, trying to eat my dinner while she yaps incessantly beside me in the passenger seat.
“Dial what down?” she asks innocently, making me suspect that her verbal diarrhoea isn’t entirely unintentional.
“The constant fucking babbling. You practically talked the legs off the chair that pensioner was sitting in and almost put the hypo guy into a diabetic coma.”
Grace glares at me. “For your information, Mrs Pocket was grateful to have someone to chat with while you dressed her foot. It’s not her fault she tripped over her toenails because she has no family to help her with her personal care. And as for Mr Greggs, he was incredibly thankful for the cup of sweet tea I made him, without which hewouldhave slipped into a diabetic coma. You see, some of us like to converse with our patients instead of barking at them like a rottweiler.” She pauses to catch her breath, her eyes flashing, her cheeks pink with anger. “It seems to meyou’rethe one who has ‘misguided ideals of making the world a better place,’”—she makes air quotes with her fingers—“because a little understanding and kindness go a long way in this world. And yes, I heard that part of your little character assassination on me earlier!”
“Good. I’m glad you heard it because the sooner you realise we’re not therapists, the better. You’re not here to save the world with idle conversation, Grace. You’re here to save it one patient at a time. And sometimes, we can’t even do that. We’re a team. I have to depend on you, which is why I won’t go easy on you out there.” I gesture around us at the London streets. “This is it. Your training is over. People’s lives are now quite literally in your hands. So, if I think for one minute you’re losing focus or you’re not up to the job, I’ll be the first to let upper management know. Are we clear?”
Grace doesn't back down. She nods as if she’s come to some unspoken conclusion and crosses her arms over her chest. “So, that's how it's gonna be, is it? You're one ofthoseguys.”
I know I shouldn't bite, but I still take the bait. “One ofthoseguys?”
“A bitter man who doesn't have the time, patience, or interest in passing on your knowledge to others. Someone more comfortable barking orders and presiding over your domain—this ambulance—like I'm an underling who needs to get in line. Do as I'm told, or else.”
“You have no right to pass judgement on me,” I snap. “You don’t know me or what I’ve been through. Come back to me when you’ve lived a little, been tried, tested, and chewed up by life.”
“You’re not the only one who’s dealt with shit, Fletcher. You don’t have the monopoly on pain because you’re old and have life experience. You say I have no idea what you’ve been through? Well, back at ya, buddy! I was hoping you’d prove me wrong, but all you military guys are cut from the same cloth.”
The smile I didn’t realise I’d already become accustomed to is long gone. Grace’s lower lip wobbles slightly, but she's still putting on a brave face. Her words reveal a level of trauma I somehow missed before. Having dealt with my fair share of trauma, I’m usually sensitive to it in others, but she’s had me on the back foot—my only fucking foot—since I met her.
Have I misjudged her?
Did some military guy hurt her?
The thought makes the blood boil in my veins, and I wish like hell I could take back my words and assumptions about Grace Newton.
ChapterFour
Grace
I barely talkfor the rest of the shift, focusing instead on the patients. Despite our disagreement, I’m all too aware of Fletcher, how big he is, and how his presence fills the cab. He may be older than me, maybe mid-thirties, but there’s no doubt he’s easy on the eye. But I won’t contemplate a relationship with a military man. Ever. My father is ex-military, and I know the damage it does to a person’s mental health.
But something about Fletcher calls to me, despite his abrupt nature. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s 6’3” of bristling muscle. He’s a dark blond, brown-eyed beast of a man with enormous hands. I want to feel them gripping my hips as he kisses me.
