Cocky Cop: Wyatt Cocker (Cocker Brothers Book 23) Page 6

  I shift my weight, crossing my arms on a sharp inhale.

  His expression shifts to annoyance. He motions for me to join them, jabbing his index finger toward the linoleum.

  I shake my head.

  He points again.

  I frown. Shake my head.

  He jabs it once more.

  I don’t move.

  He starts to repeat the ineffective summons, but realizes I might be as stubborn as he is. He marches up with everyone watching him since they have nothing better to do, and he’s so damn easy on the eyes.

  Oblivious to them, he demands, “What do you think you’re doing?”

  My voice is as hushed as his, which isn’t very. “These people are more hurt than I am. I have a bruise.”

  “You keep saying that.”

  “You keep not hearing it!”

  The woman standing right in front of me peers over her shoulder with curious irritation now that she realizes what’s going on. The gash on her clavicle clearly agrees with me and not him.

  He notices the condition she’s in, and his eyes soften to almost sheepish. But lowering his tone doesn’t hide his growing determination to win. “Diana, do you think I’m a cruel person?”

  You were holding a wounded duck in your hands like a superhero on a slow day.

  Even still, I’m frustrated, too.

  I hate bad manners.

  “I don’t know. I just met you. These people were here first, is all I’m saying. I don’t want to be a jerk. Walking up there feels wrong!”

  If steam could blow out of his nose, it’d be warming my face right now. “Did it ever occur to you that we have things we should be doing right now that might take precedence over your bruise — if that’s all you have — and that is why we are cutting the line?”

  My tight jaw relaxes as I blink, helpless to give a snappy retort to such logic. “Oh.”

  That’s all I’ve got.

  Oh.

  Rolling his eyes, Wyatt’s government-issued boots do an about-face, badge catching in the light.

  Even though I get it now, I feel terrible leaving her in a line that rivals Disney World in July.

  Nevertheless, I step out of position to follow Wyatt.

  He spins around, surprising me and the irritated clavicle by calmly inviting her, “Would you please follow me?”

  Relief waves over her, and the three of us walk to the front. She and I exchange a look that he’s kind of a nice guy. How’d he get to be that handsome and that nice?

  Washington assesses our situation, a quick deduction rendering questions unnecessary. He turns to tell the nurse they’re adding a patient of priority, but Wyatt interrupts.

  “This woman needs to be looked at right away. Before our victim.”

  I make a shocked noise at being called a victim, followed by a sardonic laugh under my breath.

  “You have a problem?” he asks.

  “You’re starting to annoy me.”

  His eyes steel.

  So do mine.

  But the reception nurse is smitten. “Absolutely!” she gushes. “Whatever you want. Seriously, anything.”

  Wyatt stares at her, unblinking. A frown pierces his eyebrows as he realizes she is coming onto him at one of the weirdest times anybody could do such a thing.

  His expression can’t figure out which emotion to choose. Giving up, he grumbles, “Good,” flicks a fiery look my way, pulls out his phone and announces, “I forgot to call in our location.”

  Washington watches him march off, turning to explain, “The police department will cover the cost of Diana’s visit. It was my car that hit her.”

  Everybody within hearing distance shifts to get a better look at me.

  “I’m fine!” I sigh.

  “Oh!” the nurse frowns.

  “It was the storm,” he offers as if that’s all the explanation anyone needs. And maybe it would be if he weren’t a cop and they’re not supposed to drive over people.

  Growing irritated at the many eyeballs that don’t look convinced he’s innocent, Washington touches my back like a father would, “Come on,” and guides me toward an open door and out of the waiting area.

  Patients hobble past us, nurses and doctors zipping by. I almost point out that I’m barely limping, but it’s a moot point now.

  Remembering the clavicle I glance back, “But what about…?”

  “She still has to fill out the paperwork.”

  “Oh.”

  I hope I don’t have to. There is nothing more boring than filling out paperwork at hospitals. It’s even less exciting than cutting my toenails.

  A frowning white coat spots the deputy, eyes clouded by the many wounded she’s handled today. His arrival is better than a glass of white wine at the end of her shift. “Washington! Look at you in your wet uniform. I thought you looked good dry but, mmm mmm mmm, this beats that.” She touches his gargantuan bicep. “My rough day suddenly doesn’t feel so bad when you feel this good.”

  His teeth light up the bleak corridor, and the distance between the two uniforms shrinks. “Dr. Bell, I don’t want to assume and I can’t be positive so let me just ask you” He pauses a flirtatious beat. “Are you objectifying me?”

  “That depends.” Her eyebrows fly up, smile knowing. “Do men mind being objectified the same way we do?”

  A laugh so deep and loud breaks out I can feel it in my chest. On it rides his answer, “We sure don’t. Most of us anyhow.”

  His infectious laughter alerts Wyatt he missed out. Cutting a momentary glance to me, he struts up with his hand on his heavy belt. “You talkin’ about that reception-nurse?”

  His partner’s smile flickers, a question in his eyes.

  Wyatt explains, “You're laughing. I thought maybe you were laughing at her hitting on me.”

  “Not everything is about you, Cocker.” Long strides take him away…from all of us.

  “I didn’t say it was!”

  “Yeah ya did.”

  Wyatt slowly follows his partner, so as not to give up his cool. “I thought you were laughing about that.”

  Washington waves behind him, “Old news.”

  Dr. Bell is where he left her, watching him go. “How obvious does a woman have to be before a man will finally ask her out?” The question is directed at me in an effort to solve a puzzle before it haunts her whole day. Our eyes lock for just long enough to agree that we will never fully understand men. And that glint shining from both of us says we don’t want to admit it, but we kinda love that. “What can I do?”

  “You could ask him out.”

  Dr. Bell smirks, “I’m from the South, honey.”

  “Me too.”

  Throwing him one last longing glance, she sighs and leaves me without a doctor or the cops who keep insisting I need one.

  I could just go home.

  Wyatt thought I had anyway.

  Chasing him down a street or no — I’m getting irritated by his big ego.

  Why don’t I do that?

  My bed was calling to me and I refused to listen in order to keep my promise. I kept it. Mission accomplished. Thanks to this accident, I can’t jog tomorrow. So why not give in and cuddle up with a good book and a lot less argument?

  “Not so fast,” Cocker warns me as I look toward the door.

  I purse my lips. “Deputy, I’m not under arrest and I’m an adult so I could leave if I wanted to.”

  “You’re an adult? Really? I’m having a hard time seeing that as a possibility.”

  A few swearwords catch in my throat. Can you curse at a police officer? I would love to find out. Another time. After I’ve looked it up.

  He points. “Go over there and see the doctor immediately or I will bring you there.”

  I snort, “I would like to see you try.”

  Wyatt lunges for me. I yelp.

  He throws me over his shoulder like a rat doll.

  The wet kind.

  Chapter 13

  Wyatt

 
Diana is fighting back, shocked I accepted her challenge.

  Why are women so stubborn?

  Why can’t they be more like men?

  Washington was talking with the doctor, and seeing a drastic change in the man’s expression, he curiously turns his head and spots me and Diana. “Cocker, are you crazy? Put our victim down!”

  “I’m not a victim!” Diana angrily insists as her fists beat on my lower back. “How many times do I have to tell you guys, I’m barely hurt!”

  With her over my shoulder, I stand in front of the doctor, ignoring my partner. “I thought you were in that room waiting to inspect her.”

  He glances to Diana’s kicking sneakers. “Uh…let’s go there now.”

  Wash chuckles and follows him, walking ahead of me.

  I carry Diana into the hospital room. She swings her arm out and shuts the door, which is pretty funny and causes both uniformed men to wryly smile as I set her down, careful of her leg.

  We lock eyes, hers defiant.

  “I’m not a child.”

  My gaze drops over her contained curves. “I can see that.”

  She flushes red, and the sound of a throat clearing makes us look over at the doc.

  “I was…flustered by the circumstances and didn’t think ahead. Now that we’re all in here, we have to leave so that…” He looks at her, needing her name.

  “Diana,” she offers, pushing back damp strands of hair that escaped her ponytail.

  “So that Diana can change into a hospital gown.”

  She scissors the air with her hands. “I don’t need to wear one of those things. I’m not staying.”

  “I need to inspect your leg,” he explains.

  She glances to her workout pants, realizing they’d have to come off for that. Our eyes lock.

  “Alright, Doc,” I smirk, pulling my focus to him. “We’ll be outside while you do your thing.”

  “I have to walk out, too, so my patient can change.”

  “Your patient,” she mutters as he leaves first. “Our victim. My name is Diana. Diana Verseli, thank you.”

  Washington’s eyes glitter as he passes me.

  I clear my throat. “Show some respect for the doc, Victim.”

  Her nostrils flare as she points at the door.

  My hand is on it, and I was ready to go, but now…

  “Oh, did you want me to leave?” I shut it, leaving the two of us alone in the room.

  Cherub lips part. Something flickers behind her eyes that I recognize as attraction, and suddenly my desire to razz her flips on its side into something more exciting. I feel my zipper twitch, blood rushing.

  I’m not stupid or a caveman — this attraction I’m perceiving could be the vivid imagination of my cock.

  He can be very persuasive.

  But I’m in control.

  So I stand where I stand, eyes narrowed with interest as neither of us looks away from each other.

  Diana’s gaze drifts up and down.

  My eyes, my lips, my eyes, my lips.

  She’s trying not to want a kiss.

  Breathy, unsure, she asks, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “What are you thinking? Because my mind is going all kinds of places I can’t action right now. How ‘bout you?”

  Washington appears, half his body still outside. “Cocker, I hate to be your Momma, but if you don’t get out here…”

  I nod, eyes locked with Diana’s. “I’m coming.”

  He vanishes.

  I’d like to make her say that.

  Wyatt…I’m cumming.

  I’m cumming!

  Don’t stop!

  I catch the door before it closes, holding it a second as I smirk, “Get undressed.”

  The hospital is loud-speaker announcements and hushed, worried voices.

  None of it penetrates my mood.

  Diana is interesting.

  One second I’m annoying her, the next she’s got bedroom eyes. Might need to see her again.

  Our doctor is prescribing treatment for another patient to a young nurse in peach-colored scrubs, a tablet held out. That leaves Washington and I alone, and I can’t avoid his stare any longer.

  “You have something to say?”

  “Do I need to say it?”

  “Nope.”

  “One word: Chief doesn’t like you.”

  “That’s four.”

  “I couldn’t stop at just Chief.” His baritone lowers to a private volume. “You are losin’ your damn mind. What the hell were you thinking throwing that civilian over your shoulder? Do you know how many ways we could get sued?”

  Eyeing him, I scoff, “She wouldn’t sue us.”

  “And how do you know that?” He stares at my unconcerned face, and explodes with wild gesticulations. “You do not know that! We just met the girl. And yeah, she seems alright. But we do not know that! People do some fucked-up shit. Nobody has to tell me that, so why am I reminding you?”

  This finger he’s pointing is unnecessary, so I push it away. “Alright, calm down. Trust my instincts if you can’t trust your own.”

  He swears under his breath as I cross to rap on her door. “You dressed, Diana?”

  She calls through the plaster. “I thought you told me to undress?”

  Intrigued, I start to open the door but Washington knows me so well he interrupts, “Doc! Get over here.”

  I chuckle and release the knob with more than my fair share of reluctance. She was toying with me. A challenge.

  Stepping to make room I subtly peek over the white-coat as he enters, curious if she was sitting in there naked waiting for me.

  On the bed in a frumpy hospital gown, Diana’s eyes sparkle, fingers wiggling I-see-you.

  He shuts the door.

  Washington hangs his head like I make no sense to him. “You’re so dumb.”

  “She’s flirting with me. Chief told me not to date on the job—”

  “—is that what you call dating?”

  “So I guess I gotta look elsewhere. She’s cute, right? Spunky.”

  “You’re still on the clock. This is officially the job.”

  “You know what, Washington, don’t get all high and mighty with me.”

  “High and mighty? They still use that term?”

  “If the shoe fits, it’s usable.” Sliding out my phone I stare at the vibrating screen. My brother. Before I answer I throw a memory out for my partner to chew on while I’m gone. “You had us going back to that coffee shop twice a day for a month when you were crushing on Gena.” As I bring the phone to my ear I block out Washington’s harumph to hear what Nate has to say.

  “Who’s Gena?”

  “Dyed-blonde dreadlocks plus tats and a sexy nose ring that Washington wanted and never got.”

  “Don’t be telling Nathan my business!”

  “You’d have wanted him to know if you did get her.” I walk away to focus, hospital humming around me. “How’re things in your world?”

  Nate exhales. “Not as good as yours. No time to joke around here. We went from rescuing animals to people and some didn’t make it. Car accidents.”

  My gaze drops to my boots, the gravity of how close we came to that deepens my volume. “How many?” If we’d been going any faster, Diana could have been gone. And we’d have her blood on our hands.

  Nathan pauses. “Don’t want to talk about it. Just checking if you’re faring any better.”

  I lean against a bulletin board heavy with pharmaceutical companies ads, images of happy people suffering from things I’ve never heard of and never want to. “Nate, how’re you doin’? Everything okay?”

  “This is what I signed up for. I can handle every second of it. Don’t worry about me.”

  The strength in his voice makes me proud. Nathan decided to become a fireman after Nicholas was in a fire not too long ago. Our big brother that close to becoming ashes turned on a switch in Nate and he changed trajectories almost immediately. When we all went to one o
f Billy Cooper’s raging parties, he casually announced the new plan. We never saw that coming. Then again to the surprise of Mom and Dad, he proclaimed it. And followed through.

  “We hit someone today.”

  “What? How? What happened?!”

  “Washington hit a jogger with our patrol car. Female.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “We’re at the hospital.”

  “Jeez, Wy, what’s going to happen?”

  “I’m hoping to nail her, that’s what’s going to happen.”

  There’s a stunned pause, and Nate cracks up. “You dick. You had me going there. You really hit someone with your car or was that complete bullshit?”

  “Yeah, we did.”

  “She okay?”

  “She’s hot is what she is. Real firecracker.”

  “Firecracker,” Nathan says, tone tinged by excitement. “Fourth of July is coming up. Busy season.”

  I chuckle. “You got bit by the bug. Hold onto that during hard days like this.”

  “I’m affected by it, Wyatt, but it feels good to help. To be the first responders.”

  “Indeed. I gotta go. Doctor is walking out of her room.” He starts to say something, but since I’m really curious about Diana, I’ve already hung up and I’m walking back.

  Wait.

  What am I doing?

  My eyes drop to the dark screen, the photograph of him standing atop a boulder in Cascade Springs, gone. I motion to the doc that I need a second, turn away from him and Wash, and dial Nate back. He picks up on the first ring. “You were going to say something?”

  “Just said I love you.”

  I blink at the tile floor as rapid footsteps pass behind and in front of me. “I love you, too, Nate.”

  He hangs up in an effort to beat me to it. Fucking hilarious.

  I chuckle and walk back, loudly asking, “What’s the prognosis?”

  Washington is with him, and I see Diana appear, the door swinging open like she wants to escape. Dressed in damp clothes again, as he talks she spots me.

  Our eyes lock and I don’t hear a thing our trained expert says.

  Diana strolls up, pretending not to have a limp, and overlaps his hot-air monologue, “It’s just a bruise.”

  He nods, cutting the medical jargon down to words we can understand. “A deep bruise that requires ice and elevation, but yes, a bruise.”