should come over for dinner tomorrow, Nicholas. I’ll have the scheduler give you the address when you call about your MRI.” Dr. Call handed Nicholas his orders for the physical therapy department, gave him directions to the PT suite, and headed out the door after a final wave.
Conor clutched his chest theatrically, his head still turned to watch the elevator door close behind the girl. “I think I’m gonna like Cali, Nick.”
Chapter Five
W HAT A S HITTY D AY , Jena thought, rubbing her neck.
The football team was on campus for training, and it had been a mad dash from one ass grab to the other all week as Trav and Jena worked out treatment plans for all of the idiots who thought they could screw around and pound beers for two months and still come back to camp in shape. The coach was known for being merciless in the first week back, and the PT workload was showing it. Just that day, Jena had treated guys with sprained ankles and wrists and hamstring injuries, and she swore to God, if one more fool asked her if having a groin pull meant he got a groin pull, she was gonna go Lizzie Borden on his johnson. Whack-whack.
Finally, the last joker on the agenda was due, and Jena was determined to let Travis handle him. Tom Finley was a wrestler, known campus-wide for his Roman hands and Russian fingers, and he didn’t give up easily. Fuck that. Last time she’d worked with him, Jena was forced to bloody his nose “accidentally” with her elbow before he would let go of her boob.
“Hey, Travis, I’m heading out since we have only one more customer waiting,” Jena said casually, passing him the last file and hoping he would let it slide when he saw the name. “Do you want me to pick up anything for dinner on my way home? I was thinking Thai sounded good.” Jena dangled the prospect of his favorite food waiting when he got off work in front of him, hoping he’d bite.
“Sounds good, sugar, but no can do.” He straightened up from the desk where he had been finishing the chart on his last patient. Since he and Leisa had been fucking like bunnies, Travis’s normally calm demeanor had become almost coma-like, and his usually faint Montana twang was more pronounced. Jena didn’t know if he was too damn tired to restrain it, or if it had something to do with Leisa’s love of all things cowboy. If a saddle appeared in the living room, Jena wouldn’t be surprised. As long as it wasn’t on Travis, she could deal.
“Carrie called from the front desk, and we have a new patient coming down right now. Shoulder injury. We’re supposed to talk about proposed treatment and show him around. Sounds pretty easy. You take that, and I’ll handle the meathead.” Travis smiled and attempted to ruffle Jena’s hair, but since it was in a braid he didn’t do much damage.
Jena sprang up, using both hands to ruffle Travis’s hair into his eyes. Usually that would be grounds for a major war, as Travis’s hair was sacred to him, but this time he just laughed. “You think you’re messin’ with me, Jen, but I don’t care,” he said nonchalantly, winking at Jena. “It’s just gonna look like this in about an hour anyway.”
“No way!” she screeched. “I’ve had to leave the house every night this week. I’ve seen every movie in town. Leisa is not staying over tonight.”
As he turned to argue, the receptionist stepped in and handed him a chart. “Look sharp, guys. This one is a special request from Dr. Call.”
Travis whistled. “Straight from the big guy himself. Too bad you get to earn all of the brownie points for an easy one.” He took a look at the name on the chart and his shoulders started to shake with restrained laughter. “This should be good.” He held the folder out to Jena.
Travis laughing about a client was not a good sign. Jena reached out gingerly to take the chart from him, like he was extending a deadly viper in her direction. “What?” she asked. She looked and froze. Nicholas Cooper .
Conor clutched his chest theatrically, his head still turned to watch the elevator door close behind the girl. “I think I’m gonna like Cali, Nick.”
Chapter Five
W HAT A S HITTY D AY , Jena thought, rubbing her neck.
The football team was on campus for training, and it had been a mad dash from one ass grab to the other all week as Trav and Jena worked out treatment plans for all of the idiots who thought they could screw around and pound beers for two months and still come back to camp in shape. The coach was known for being merciless in the first week back, and the PT workload was showing it. Just that day, Jena had treated guys with sprained ankles and wrists and hamstring injuries, and she swore to God, if one more fool asked her if having a groin pull meant he got a groin pull, she was gonna go Lizzie Borden on his johnson. Whack-whack.
Finally, the last joker on the agenda was due, and Jena was determined to let Travis handle him. Tom Finley was a wrestler, known campus-wide for his Roman hands and Russian fingers, and he didn’t give up easily. Fuck that. Last time she’d worked with him, Jena was forced to bloody his nose “accidentally” with her elbow before he would let go of her boob.
“Hey, Travis, I’m heading out since we have only one more customer waiting,” Jena said casually, passing him the last file and hoping he would let it slide when he saw the name. “Do you want me to pick up anything for dinner on my way home? I was thinking Thai sounded good.” Jena dangled the prospect of his favorite food waiting when he got off work in front of him, hoping he’d bite.
“Sounds good, sugar, but no can do.” He straightened up from the desk where he had been finishing the chart on his last patient. Since he and Leisa had been fucking like bunnies, Travis’s normally calm demeanor had become almost coma-like, and his usually faint Montana twang was more pronounced. Jena didn’t know if he was too damn tired to restrain it, or if it had something to do with Leisa’s love of all things cowboy. If a saddle appeared in the living room, Jena wouldn’t be surprised. As long as it wasn’t on Travis, she could deal.
“Carrie called from the front desk, and we have a new patient coming down right now. Shoulder injury. We’re supposed to talk about proposed treatment and show him around. Sounds pretty easy. You take that, and I’ll handle the meathead.” Travis smiled and attempted to ruffle Jena’s hair, but since it was in a braid he didn’t do much damage.
Jena sprang up, using both hands to ruffle Travis’s hair into his eyes. Usually that would be grounds for a major war, as Travis’s hair was sacred to him, but this time he just laughed. “You think you’re messin’ with me, Jen, but I don’t care,” he said nonchalantly, winking at Jena. “It’s just gonna look like this in about an hour anyway.”
“No way!” she screeched. “I’ve had to leave the house every night this week. I’ve seen every movie in town. Leisa is not staying over tonight.”
As he turned to argue, the receptionist stepped in and handed him a chart. “Look sharp, guys. This one is a special request from Dr. Call.”
Travis whistled. “Straight from the big guy himself. Too bad you get to earn all of the brownie points for an easy one.” He took a look at the name on the chart and his shoulders started to shake with restrained laughter. “This should be good.” He held the folder out to Jena.
Travis laughing about a client was not a good sign. Jena reached out gingerly to take the chart from him, like he was extending a deadly viper in her direction. “What?” she asked. She looked and froze. Nicholas Cooper .
Similar Books
