Page 5 of Bradford (Boston Bay Vikings #18)

FLORENCE

My cheeks feel on fire after what I overheard.

I certainly don't want to imagine that aspect of Bradford's autonomy.

He's my patient. But that doesn't stop me from feeling awkward.

One of his friends leaves, but Madden and another friend stay and smirk.

I kind of feel sorry for Bradford right now. "I'm afraid visiting time is over."

Bradford grins and sinks into his pillow. "I'll see you idiots when I'm back in Boston." His smile fades, and I see Madden and the other friend exchange a worried glance.

"Florence, would you mind giving me a minute with Bradford?" Madden glances at Dario. "You too."

Joking aside, his friend steps forward and hugs Bradford. "Follow instructions, and you'll be back with us before you know it." He clears his throat and adds, "I want daily updates."

Bradford nods.

I step outside with his friend, feeling worried that they're leaving because I know Bradford doesn't want them to go.

"Dario," the guy says, holding out his hand. "We haven't been introduced."

I shake his hand. "Florence Night."

He nods, his lips twitching. I smile and shake my head. Not many people know who Florence Nightingale is, especially in my generation.

"You'll take care of him, right?" Dario asks with a hint of worry in his voice. "He's an adult and more than capable. It's just that we're across the country?—"

I hold up my hand to stop him. "Your friend will be fine." I pause, then add, "I owe him a lot for coming to my rescue. I promise to make sure he's okay while he's in town."

He lets out a long breath. "I won't worry now. Thanks." His gaze moves to the doorway, where Madden appears. He nods in my direction before walking toward the exit, leaving a confused Dario behind. Saying, "See you, Flo," he rushes after his friend.

I head back to my patient, who I find gazing out of the window.

He can't see much from his reclined position on the bed, but I can tell he's trying to regain control.

He turns my way and deep sadness is evident in his eyes.

I feel out of my depth with Bradford. I'm supposed to be professional, yet this man's vulnerability draws me in.

Actually, it was his smile and charm that first caught my attention.

He'd been buzzed after the sedation I gave him.

I can't deny there's a spark between us, though.

He's my patient.

I need to keep my feelings in check. But it's so hard when he looks at me with those eyes.

I clear my throat and move toward the bed. "How are you doing?"

"I've been better," he mutters, not taking his gaze from mine. "They're going back today."

"I know." I wince. "This is my fault. You'd be going back with them if I hadn't been in the wrong place last night." I fight back tears, but one slips out as he takes my hand in his much larger one.

"Don't blame yourself," he says softly. "You were in trouble through no fault of your own." He shakes his head. "Have the police spoken to you?"

"I gave my statement while you were in surgery. I didn't know the guy. I've never seen him before." I sigh. "I didn't see him until he grabbed me."

“He knew who I was." His brows pull together. "I felt he was there for me." He offers a wry smile. "I don't mean to sound full of myself. It's just the way he spoke when I showed up. I hadn't really thought about it until now, but something felt off."

"Like maybe he was waiting for you?" I add.

Bradford frowns, deep in thought. "Perhaps." His eyes meet mine. "Then again, maybe I'm reading too much into it."

"Well," I say as I put on my gloves, "I haven't heard anything from the police since I gave my statement.

I'm guessing he's still out there." I move to the opposite side of the bed and pick up the discarded tube.

Bradford looks away, embarrassed. "Anyway," I say, changing the subject as I dispose of the tubing, "I heard your boss has secured an apartment for you until you can travel home. Top-notch security, too."

"Will you visit me there?" he asks, catching me off guard.

My nerves flutter at the thought. I shouldn't, though. Not really. "If you want me to."

He grins. "I do."

I nod. "Do you need help getting to the bathroom while I'm here?"

"I'd appreciate some painkillers before I try that."

"Let me go find your nurse."

Bradford reaches out and takes my wrist. "You'll come back, right?"

If I weren't wearing gloves, I would take his hand for reassurance.

"Let me get your medication sorted, then I'll come back.

I have thirty minutes left before my shift starts.

" When he releases me, I quickly leave his room.

I dispose of the bag and gloves. While I'm washing my hands, Bradford's nurse snickers as she sidles up beside me.

"He let you remove it, then?"

I snort, feeling a blush heat my cheeks. "He removed it himself." I refrain from mentioning what I overheard in his room about his reaction.

Letitia has no such qualms, though. She tells me, "I bet he removed it!" She chuckles. "He was having issues with his nether regions while reading the book I left him."

My eyes widen, then narrow.

"Yes, it was the book you lent me, Indecent Villain. Very hot." Waggling her brows, she leaves the room laughing. "It's time for his meds. I'll get them ready."

What am I going to do about you, Bradford Winchester?

After lunch, I’m heading toward Bradford’s room when I catch sight of the detectives from the night before.

The older detective spots me and holds my gaze briefly before heading my way.

His expression is unreadable. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for whatever he has to say. I don't think it's good news.

I take a couple of steps forward and meet him in the middle of the hallway. He clears his throat. "Is there someplace we can talk?" I nod and lead him to a vacant room. He closes the door behind us, and I feel my heart thuds with unease.

"Detectives Walker and Smith," says Walker, the older one. "We need to ask you some questions about last night's incident."

I nod, my mouth as dry as sand. "I already gave you a statement. I honestly don't have anything to add." I shrug and glance at Smith, noticing a flicker of sympathy in his eyes. "I was hoping you were here to say you'd caught him."

"He disappeared," Smith says. "We tracked him out of the hospital but lost him in the city. The IT guys are going back over the security footage, but we're not holding our breath."

"You said he shot Mr. Winchester as soon as he showed himself. As though the gunman was waiting for him,” Walker comments.

"That's how it happened, but I don't know for sure that it was Bradford he was after. I mean, why take me hostage if he wanted him? It doesn't make sense. Bradford doesn't have a clue who the guy was either. Although, he does suspect there's more to it."

"What about an ex?" Walker asks.

"We covered this last night.”

“Humor us," Smith adds.

Sighing heavily, I repeat, "I broke up with my boyfriend about eight months ago.

He pops up occasionally, wanting to get back together, but I ignore him.

I'm not interested. I haven't seen the guy from last night before, so I don't think he has anything to do with Daniel.

" Silence follows my answer, making me wonder what they expected me to say.

I haven't lied. My cheating ex only begs me to take him back when one of his many women kicks him out. That won't be me again.

"How's Mr. Winchester doing?" Smith asks.

"He's restless." I shrug. “You’ll have to check with Nurse Zaire.”

Walker tilts his head, looking thoughtful, maybe even a little smug. “If you’re not his nurse, why were you heading into his room?”

Huffing out an impatient breath, I move toward the door and pull it open.

"I was going to say hello before my shift started.

I can't do that now." I'm annoyed with the detectives as I walk away.

If they had any useful information, I wouldn't have minded being sidetracked from visiting Bradford.

As it is, they had nothing to tell me. What a waste of time.