Page 6 of Bradford (Boston Bay Vikings #18)

brADFORD

My arm is in a sling because of my shoulder, and it hurts when I move my side.

Yet, all I can think about is Florence. I wonder if I'll see her before I leave the hospital.

I can't stop thinking about her. The nurse will be back with my discharge papers soon, but unfortunately, the one person I want to see isn't on shift.

I can't believe I might miss my chance to say goodbye.

No! It's not goodbye. I refuse to accept that.

There's a spark between us that I want to explore.

The door to my room opens, and I see her standing there. She's smiling softly, looking a bit unsure of herself. My heart thuds as a slow flutter of desire courses through my body. "Hi," I say.

"Hi." She chuckles and enters the room, letting the door close behind her. "I heard that you're leaving us."

I shake my head and tease, "I'm leaving the hospital. I'm not leaving you, babe."

Her smile fades as she steps closer. "Bradford?—"

"I want to see you again," I say, cutting her off. I don't want to hear any goodbyes. I sit on the edge of the bed and sigh in relief. "Would you come to dinner with me? Please, Florence."

"You live in Boston, and I live here. I don't want to get my heart broken," she admits softly.

Reaching out, I gently take her wrist and pull her closer.

I hold her hand and rub my thumb over her delicate skin.

I feel her tremble under my touch, and I feel my body react to having her close.

"You feel the connection, Florence. I know you do.

" I pull her between my legs, reaching up with my free hand to caress her neck and feel her pulse quicken beneath my touch.

Her eyes meet mine, expressing a mixture of longing and uncertainty, as she leans into my touch.

With a slight tug, I pull her close enough to brush my lips over hers. As I pull back slightly, I see the desire in her eyes. The tension between us pulses hotly; there's no way she won't feel my arousal.

My breath catches in my throat when she goes up on her tiptoes and hugs me.

Her fingers on the back of my neck cause me to groan.

"I want more than anything to go to dinner with you, but I can't do that when you're going back to Boston," she whispers in my ear.

"Please take care of yourself." Clasping the sides of my face, she holds me still and presses her lips to mine.

I watch her leave the room, desperate to go after her. What can I say, though? She's right. When I'm in Boston, we'll be over two thousand miles apart.

The hotel suite is all sleek lines in white and light gray, creating a cold and impersonal atmosphere.

However, beneath the veneer, glimpses of warmth can be seen in subtle elements, such as the comforting throw blanket draped over the back of the sofa and the vibrant artwork.

I despise it at first sight. I keep my mouth shut, because my boss, Wyatt Peters, set this up for me until I can head home.

The massive hotel is located on the Strip and has a spectacular view of the city lights. Gazing out the window, I clutch my throbbing side, wondering what Florence is doing.

I reach up and touch my lips, remembering the feel of her lips on mine.

She hasn’t seen the last of me, even though she refused to give me her phone number.

I’d caught her on the way out of the hospital.

She said it's for the best. I’m sure I’ll be able to find her.

I have a few days to talk her around to staying in touch.

I sit on the sofa, hoping it's more comfortable than it looks.

It isn't. I catch my breath as I stand and move into the bedroom, which is just as boring as the other room.

I toe off my shoes and gingerly lie down, sighing in relief as tiredness washes over me.

A nap sounds good right now, but before I can close my eyes, my phone rings with a video call.

Madden.

I roll my eyes and answer when I see his grinning mug on my phone. "Don't you have something better to do than keep calling me? I mean, you just got married."

"Tessa is perfect," he smirks. "She also told me to call you before I wear a hole in the floor." He frowns. "You're doing okay, right?"

Madden and Dario are my closest friends, but I'm not used to Madden worrying about me.

During my conversation with Florence, she made me think that perhaps Madden felt responsible for my ending up in the hospital.

After all, I was at his wedding. It was totally not his fault.

He hadn't been driving the car—a drunk asshole had been.

"I'm good. The suite has a good view, but it's plain and boring. The hotel beneath has potential. There are lots of places to eat. I can't complain." I sigh. "I'm actually grateful to Wyatt for this."

"Make the most of it." He snickers. "I noticed you didn't tell me much about yourself." He raises an eyebrow and waits, the drawback of a video call. "And why are you in bed?"

"Okay, Mom! The sofa is more for show than for sitting on. It makes me uncomfortable just looking at it. I thought the bed would be better, so here I am. My side aches from trekking up here. I miss you guys, but honestly, I'm doing okay." I smile.

"What about your meds?"

"I have them. The guy who picked me up from the hospital stopped at a drugstore to fill the prescription." I sigh heavily. "You're a good friend, Madden. I appreciate your concern, but please don't worry about me."

My friend clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. "It's weird not being in the same city." He chuckles. "Not in a weird way. I'm just used to us being in each other's business."

"I miss you, too, bro!" I blow him a kiss. "I'm going to take a painkiller and take a nap before dinner. Give Tessa a kiss from me."

"I'm not kissing my wife for you!"

I snicker. "I'll kiss her myself when I get home." Grinning, I hang up. I'm still smiling when I let my phone drop onto the bed.

I'm too comfortable to move, but I know I'll regret it later if I don't go find the painkillers.

The hotel where I’m staying has many options for dinner, but as an athlete, I’m careful about what I eat, so I choose from the healthy menu.

As I read the menu at the front of the restaurant, my mouth waters.

The burgers sound good, but I like their steak options.

My thoughts turn to Florence once more. Would she like to eat here?

Is it her type of place? As I step over the threshold, the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.

I scan the area, but I don't see anyone paying attention to me.

My instincts tell me that something is wrong.

I don't see anything or anyone out of place. Not that I’ll really know; this is my first time here.

The prickles of awareness are never wrong.

My hands twitch to rub my neck, but I don't do it.

Sighing heavily, I go into the restaurant because I'm hungry. I should have ordered room service. But I’ve had enough of being confined.

As I pay too much attention to what is going on outside the restaurant, I only see the man as he pulls out a chair and sits across from me. I haven't seen him before. I watch him as intently as he watches me. The server approaches, but I wave her away. This man isn't staying.

I'm not saying anything. He tracked me down for a reason. I have questions, but for now, I want to see what he's up to.

"I didn't think you'd make this easy for me."

"What does that even mean?" I sit back and let him think I'm relaxed. I'm not fit to fight, but if my life depended on it, I would.

The man before me is well-dressed in an expensive suit. His hair is cropped close to his head, almost too long for a military cut. He looks like an average businessman, but something dark slithers beneath the surface.

"I figured I'd have to bribe someone to get up to your room with all the security your boss has put in place." He searches my gaze, but I keep steady eye contact, not letting him see how rattled I am to be singled out. "You're a difficult man to reach, Bradford Winchester."

My heart stutters and drops to my fucking toes. "What the fuck do you want?"

He grins, pleased to have rattled me. "I knew that would get your attention."

"The gunman! Was he one of yours?"

His face changes to an angry expression. "That wasn't supposed to happen. It was supposed to be a warning to your father. To show that we could reach you anywhere. The man I hired went too far."

I clench my jaw. "Then why the hell did he go after the nurse?"

"I don't know. If you can find him, you can ask him.”

"I'm hungry. Why are you here?"

“Do you know what your father has been doing lately?”

"I haven't spoken to him in a while. So, no. He has his finger in a lot of pies. I'm not interested."

"I've heard that about you. You don't like your father's business ethics." He sits forward. "I don't like all of his business dealings, but there's one I'm interested in. That's where you come in, my friend."

"I'm not your friend.”

"I can see you're not going to cooperate." He stands. "You will. The pretty nurse might need to keep me company until you come around."

Fear hits me like a sledgehammer. I jump to my feet and gasp in pain at the fire in my side. "Stay away from her!"

He laughs and heads out.

I try to follow him, but the pain in my side stops me in my tracks.

"Are you okay?" The server rushes to my side.

As I glance at her, I notice the two detectives from the hospital standing behind her. "You need to go after him," I snarl.

Smith and Walker glance at each other before focusing on me. "Who?"

Walker ushers the server away, frowning.

I clutch my side and slump back into the chair. "The asshole who was just sitting with me! He's going after Florence." I curse. "At least, I think that's what he's doing. It all has something to do with my father. Talk to him after you've checked on her."

"Hold on a second. Are you saying that Florence received a threat?"

"Yes!" I push myself up, clenching my teeth. "I'm coming with you."

"No way," Smith says. "You need to go back to your room and stay there."

"Hell no! Talk to my father about who that asshole is but we need to go check on Florence. Please. I have a gut feeling that he's going after her."

Walker nods, cursing under his breath. “She’s on shift. You can get your stitches checked while we’re there.”

“Whatever,” I grumble, not really caring about my stitches. I just have a feeling that Florence needs help.