He quirked a disbelieving brow. The gesture challenging in such a non-confrontational way, she suddenly felt like she’d come up against an overly concerned brother herself, and disconcerted, she blurted, “What?”
He shoved his hip off the bed. “Come on, let’s have a look.”
“At what?” she challenged.
“The stitches on your back.” He grabbed a pair of new gloves out of the box attached to the wall. “I can tell they’re bothering you.”
She hadn’t been awake when he’d gone ahead and stitched her incision, but the news didn’t come as a shock. He seemed like a caring person and a competent doctor. “They’re not?—”
“Look, the sooner I check you out, the sooner you get some food in your belly.”
“That’s blackmail,” she huffed, pulling her hand free from Jay’s. Deep asleep, he didn’t stir.
“Yep.” Jamie wiggled his fingers before letting the cuff of the glove snap against his wrist. “Better get used to it around here.”
“I still don’t know where here is,” she grumbled, pulling her arm free from her sweatshirt, and oh God, she got a whiff of her pit. Man, she needed a bar of soap and a hot shower—STAT.
“That’s Adam’s department,” he said, rolling his medical cart closer. “I’m just the medic.”
Yeah, sure. She shook her head. She’d seen him in action.
Whoever he was, just a medic didn’t do him justice.
There was more to him, a lot more, and something about his quiet confidence and open manner drew her in. Made her feel safe. Comfortable. At ease in her skin. His wedding ring helped too. Someone somewhere trusted him enough to put their life, their happiness, their future in his hands.
That meant something. It had to, right?
“I’m gonna move your tank out of the way,” he said. “Let me know if you feel uncomfortable.”
“I’m good.” She didn’t flinch when he pulled the elastic of her top down—a testament to how secure she felt with her back turned and his hands on her skin.
“You’ll feel a little tug now.” A quick yank on one corner of the tape, and the gauze came off. He tossed it into the garbage. “Stitches look good.” He poked his fingers around the wound on her back. “But the skin’s a bit red and irritated. Probably from the elastic rubbing over the area. I’d like to leave the incision uncovered, but I’m guessing you’re not comfortable with taking your tank off, right?”
“No.”
“Okay, we’ll double up on the bandaging instead.” He reached around her shoulder, opened a drawer, and grabbed some medical tape. “Here,” he offered her the roll. “You do the cutting.” He gave her a pair of scissors next, and she grinned because he’d handed her the same weapon she’d clutched earlier without so much as a warning glance. “Four three-inch strips oughta do it.”
With zero urges to stab him in the neck complicating her life, she got to work cutting the strips and sticking them to the top of the cart for his easy reach. “You know what.” He poked at her skin again. “I think I’ll start with a waterproof gel patch. It’ll help with the scarring, and you can shower with it on if you want to.”
She huffed and put the scissors back in the drawer. “Is that your way of saying I’m stinky?”
“No.” He reached into the cabinet after her and pulled out the supplies he needed. “That’s my way of saying a hot shower has many physical and mental health benefits, including muscle relaxation, stress reduction, and anxiety relief.”
“So, I’m not stinky?”
“Oh, no. You’re definitely stinky. I’m dying from the fumes back here. All I’m saying is, you’ll feel better if you eat, shower, and get some proper sleep.”
She grinned at his honesty and shook her head at his delivery while he ripped open one of the wrappers behind her back. “If I ask you one question, will you promise to tell me the truth?”
“What do you want to know?” His hands gentle, and his touch light, he smoothed the cooling gel pad over her skin, pressing along the outer seams to secure it firmly.
“Am I safe here? Are you the good guys or the bad guys? And are you aware Adam is an illegal arms dealer who goes by the name of Sam Black?”
Jamie snorted and grabbed a thick handful of gauze. “That’s three questions.”
She shrugged her exposed shoulder. “Simple math was never my strong suit.”
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll answer all of your questions honestly, if you agree to do one thing I ask at some future date and time without question or argument.”
