The Deputy and His Enforcer (Kincaid Pack #3) - Kiki Clark Page 0,111
a snarl. “That woman at the desk wouldn’t let me. Said he already had two people back there with him.”
“That’s dumb.” She rolled her eyes and tapped Annalisse’s side. “Can you sit up for a second, mija? I need to get my phone.” After she dug it out of her pocket, Annalisse settled back against her and Teresa awkwardly typed out a message with one hand. “There. That should help.”
He wasn’t sure what she meant until he heard Robson’s voice get louder. “Of course I want him back here!” There was some grumbling from Hector about Robson being an asshole that made their mom scold him, and then he heard Hector moving. A minute later, he stepped into the waiting room and gave Marcus a sheepish look.
“You can head back, Marcus. He’s the third on the left—though you could probably just follow the cursing.”
He ducked his head to hide his laugh as he stood, threw Teresa a grateful smile, then headed back toward the triage bays. The woman at the desk gave him a look but didn’t stop him, so he followed Robson’s voice to where he was telling his mom that he wouldn’t quit his job without another one lined up, no matter how much she wanted him to now.
Did he want to find another job? Marcus paused outside the drawn curtain and tried to remember Robson saying something to him about not liking his job. Even though Robson had started working more in the last couple weeks, Marcus couldn’t remember him saying anything about being a deputy one way or the other.
Had he really been unhappy and not told Marcus? Why wouldn’t he confide in him? They were mates. They should be able to tell each other anything. Did he not feel—
“I can hear you overthinking out there, cariño.”
Embarrassed at getting caught, he tried to hide it as he pulled back the curtain to reveal his mate lying propped on a narrow hospital bed, but the moment his eyes landed on him, they zeroed in on the stark white bandage around his bicep with red seeping through in the middle. The contrast against his beautiful tan skin and the black lines of his tattoo made Marcus light-headed again.
He couldn’t take his eyes off the saturated bandage even as Robson quietly asked his mom to give them a minute alone. On her way past, Mrs. Medina gave him a quick hug and whispered that she’d be over with her brood to collect his things the following weekend.
That got him to tear his eyes away as he watched her walk toward the waiting room. “What?”
“She’s done waiting for you to be ready to move into the farmhouse,” Robson said, laughter in his voice. “Close the curtain, cariño, then get over here and give me a kiss. I was shot, you know.”
Robson making light of what had happened had the opposite effect on Marcus than he’d probably intended. Tears filled his eyes as he whipped the blue curtain shut, then flew across the small space and threw his arms around his mate.
“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay.” He tried to wrap his arms around Marcus and hissed a little, making Marcus cry harder that he’d hurt Robson more. “Oh, my sweet, sweet mate. I’m fine, I promise.”
“You could have died,” Marcus rasped out, burying his face in Robson’s throat and climbing all the way into the bed, careful to stay on Robson’s uninjured side. “And I couldn’t even answer my phone.”
Robson was still in his scratchy uniform pants, but his shirt had been removed, and Marcus couldn’t stop running his hand over his smooth, warm skin.
“Marcus, stop. Look at me.” Robson’s growly voice was like a caress down Marcus’s spine. Once their eyes were on each other, Robson gave him a soft smile. “Not having your phone attached to your hand isn’t a crime. You getting here ten minutes earlier wouldn’t have changed anything even if I had been more seriously hurt.”
Wincing just at the suggestion of a worse injury, Marcus refocused on his hurt arm, raising his hand to lay it gently just under the bandage. “What happened?”
Robson grunted and rolled his eyes. “A bunch of wannabe SWAT officers getting overly eager during a warrant execution.”
“Another officer shot you?”
“No, it was the suspect. But the whole thing was sloppy as hell. My old infantry unit could have done a better job with blindfolds on.”
Marcus stared at his mate for a long moment. “You really don’t like your job, do you? Why