“Working for the Weekend”
Camille
“So, how’s our patient holding up?” Nathan was stretched out on my sofa. Solomon regally purred away on his stomach and leered over at Mayze, who pouted from her bed in the kitchen. I was padding around in baggy hospital scrubs, having had one of those work days that included a mid-shift shower and wardrobe change. My look was completed with thick socks on my feet and a limp ponytail. Thusly attired, I busied myself preparing a feast of takeout and leftovers to shore up our flagging energy; we were both ending a very long week.
Nathan’s week began early Monday with the mid-air and progressed to paperwork and meetings discussing disciplinary actions and next steps for the Scorpions. Mine had been complicated as I ran the unit and worked extra to cover Luckie. She was spending as much time as possible at Davis’s bedside. His doctor agreed to discharge him home on the fifth day with the condition that he have twenty-four-hour nursing care for the following two weeks, minimum. Luckie was providing most of that, with Bibi dropping in daily for some ass-kicking, Scorpion-style physical therapy. A home health nurse filled in so Lucinda could work part-time.
“He’s doing so well,” I enthused. “I’m so proud of him. I went with Bibi yesterday to help with PT, and he’s just powering through it like a boss. He’s gonna be well ahead of the curve; you watch. And they did this cool thing.”
I was talking with my hands now like I often did when I got excited explaining something. “With the open repair in surgery, they used this method called the intramedullary nail, and it’s…”
But Nate had put down his beer and was frantically waving his hands while trying to swallow. “No.” He choked the beer down. “No, don’t talk about it. Ugh. TMI. Too much information. Blood and bones and…just no.” His face was twisted with disgust.
I dissolved into laughter. “The big, badass fighter pilot doesn’t like blood and guts—is that it?” I bent to feed Mayze a bite of the chicken I’d cut up. She continued to stare at Sol while taking the morsel and making a show of affectionately licking my hand. Mayze was bringing out the big artillery in the battle Solomon had brought to her door. The gloves were off.
I poured a fishbowl-sized glass of red for myself and grabbed another cold Stella from the fridge for Nate. I delivered them to the coffee table, along with a strange mishmash of leftover Chinese takeout, last night’s homemade tandoori chicken (yummy cold) and good grocery store sushi I’d grabbed on the way home. “No chopsticks, sorry. I completely forgot. I have soy in a bottle if you need it, but you’ll have to forage in the cabinet. I can’t stand up one more minute.” I flopped next to Nate on the sofa.
“Not a problem, angel. Don’t need chopsticks. Probably don’t even need silverware.” He lifted his bottle. “Here’s to making it through the week, and here’s to a relaxing weekend with my girl. And to spicy tuna rolls.” We grinned, clinking drinks, and fell on the makeshift meal like we hadn’t eaten in a month.
The week had been far too busy to see each other. Although we talked briefly each day, it had been five days apart, filled with long, stressful hours of work for both of us. There was no major negotiation, but when Nate called to say he’d be over with Mayze after work on Friday, I almost expected the call. We felt the bond strengthening between us and quietly acknowledged the increasing need to spend time together.
As the feeding frenzy slowed, I sat back, sipping my wine, and rubbed Nathan’s muscular thigh. He pulled me close, tucking me into the crook of his arm. Sol, of course, meowed his jealous displeasure. Fickle bastard.
“So what happens now?” I addressed Nate, turning to enjoy the warmth of his gaze, fixed on me. He raised one eyebrow in unspoken question, sipping his beer, so I continued. “What are the repercussions after an event like this, like an accident? I mean, for Miles or the Scorpions. Or for you?”
Nathan turned a little to face me more directly. “That’s what’s been under discussion this week. General O’Cherry immediately sat the squadron down after the mid-air Monday morning.” Confusion must’ve danced across my face for the millionth time when he used military terms, because he continued, “‘Sat down’ means that he grounded all of us—in other words, he said that no one in the squadron could fly, for now. It’s fairly common after a Class A mishap—a major accident where we lose an aircraft, or there’s a loss of life. Gives us time to evaluate and reflect on what we might have done differently. Most importantly how we can prevent it from happening again.”
Nate shifted, looking restless, so I moved to the end of the sofa and pulled his head into my lap, beginning to massage his temples and scalp soothingly. He closed his eyes, and a little smile played across the full lips that had brought me so much pleasure. He didn’t speak for several minutes, giving Sol and Mayze time to take up residence in the prime real estate on his stomach and near his feet, respectively. Solomon’s rumbly purr was the only sound breaking the silence.
“This is why they brought me here, Cami. Rifle’s only been dead for a few months and now this.” He took a big breath and sighed heavily. “I was brought here to prevent this. Was supposed to see it coming and fix it before it happened again.”
I rubbed and massaged and thought. “I should probably lecture you about how it’s not your fault, shouldn’t I?” His eyes opened, but he didn’t smile. He just looked at me with those beautiful, sad brown eyes. “It’s a lot of weight to carry, a life-and-death job, especially as the boss. I do understand that, you know. Some people are resistant to what you tell them, no matter the truth of it. You can only carry so much of that for them. When I was a fairly young charge nurse, I had to fire someone like Miles. She was so hell-bent on going her way, she couldn’t hear me when I tried to help her, give her correction. I guess what you have to decide now is if Miles is too far down her path to hear you. What I won’t tell you is that it isn’t your fault. I think you know it isn’t. But I know from experience it sometimes feels better to flog yourself with it for a while. Just don’t do it for too long.” I bent and touched my mouth to his. When I moved away from him, he smiled.
“You knew just the right thing to say, Camille. Thank you.” His eyes were serious as they searched my face. “Did you get enough to eat? Because I’d very much like to take you to bed and spend the next couple of hours touching your naked body and sucking your nipples and eating and fucking your tight little cunt.” He grinned. “Do you think you could work that into your schedule tonight?”
Oh, I did. I abso-fucking-lutely did think I was ready for Nathan against me, warm and naked and hard. I was already on my feet, clearing away the food and heading for the dishwasher when I felt Nate’s hands under my scrubs, his thumbs rubbing circles on my tummy. “Go sit back down, Cami. Put your feet up and finish your wine. I’m jumping through the shower; then I’ll be back to put the kitchen in order and get the kids tucked in.” He lifted his chin toward the sofa where Sol and Mayze were engaged in a staring contest.
“You can shower up while I do that. Then you’ll be soft and warm. All ready for my hands.” One of his thumbs skimmed my bottom lip. “And my mouth.” His face bent to mine, but he brushed past my lips and bit my neck gently, just below my ear, and then soothed it briefly with his tongue. Then he whispered in the same ear, “And my cock.” With that, he placed his hand flat on the small of my back and pulled me flush against the front of his body so I could feel his hard flesh, thick and ready, lying against his belly. “I love you, Camille, and I need you very much tonight.” He kissed me thoroughly and left for the shower. My weak knees were glad to allow me to sink back into the sofa.