Coup De Grace

I liked Paxton.

He was a very sexy man with dark brown hair that curled over his ears, and a beautiful blue set of eyes that could make any person’s heart start to flutter.

His heart only fluttered for men, though.

Specifically, his significant other that he’d met just a few months ago through a mutual friend of the two.

“Yep,” I said, turning away and washing my hands in the sink that sat right next to the exit that the paramedics used to transfer patients in and out. “I’m going to run to Starbuck’s. Want anything?”

Paxton shook his head.

“Nah, I just had a candy bar. My ass can’t take any more calories today,” he said sheepishly.

I rolled my eyes.

My ass definitely couldn’t take it either, yet I couldn’t find it in me to give a shit at the moment.

I definitely took after my curvy mother.

I had what my sisters liked to call ‘child bearing hips.’

Big boobs, big hips, toned thighs (that, might I add, were still on the bigger side of acceptable) and a chin that was questionably close to what they called ‘double.’

My friends and family didn’t see what I saw, the imperfections.

They said I was beautiful.

I said I was chunky.

To-ma-toes. Tom-a-toes.

Don’t ask me why I did what I did next.

It could’ve been because I was crazy. Or it could’ve been because I knew he needed it, but I did it with no ulterior motives.

“I want a twenty ounce amaretto latte, and a twenty eight ounce black Americano,” I ordered.

She young teen smiled, busying herself steaming my milk and shaking cinnamon sprinkles on my frothy milk that collected at the top of the drink.

“That’ll be eight fifty,” she said, holding out her hand.

I shoved a ten in her hand and said, “Keep the change.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

Taking my two coffees, I walked back down the hallway to the ER. When I turned the final corner that would take me into the ER, I ran straight into a brick wall of flesh.

Instinctively, I lifted my hands up to save the coffee, and inadvertently padded my collision with my breasts which pressed up against a hard, well defined chest. They instantly pebbled.

“Oh!” I said in surprise.

“Fuck,” a deep voice hissed out, hands moving to my hips to keep me steady.

That voice always had the capability to send shivers down my spine.

“Michael,” I breathed, smiling timidly at him.

“Nik,” he sighed. “Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Bringing my cups down, I stepped back, and instantly regretted the loss of his heat.

I knew, though, that the longer I stayed there touching him, the harder it’d be to move away.

“I got you this,” I said, shoving the coffee in his direction.

He caught it before I could spill it all over his chest, but to be honest, his shirt really couldn’t get much worse.

Not with the massive amount of blood I could see soaking it.

He’d have to throw this one away.

It may be black, but there was no way he could get the blood out of this one.

The white lettering that designated him a KPD officer was stained red, and I had a feeling that it wouldn’t come out. Not with any amount of scrubbing.

“Thanks,” he said, sounding surprised.

“You look like you needed it,” I muttered, walking around him to the door that led into the ER.

He smiled sadly.

“‘Preciate it,” he muttered, staring at the coffee like it was the answer to all of life’s questions.

Seeing him like that made me remember the last time he’d done that.

It’d been at a SWAT meeting that’d turned into an impromptu party when I’d shown up with a box full of tamales from my mother.





***


Two years ago

“Holy crap that man’s freakin’ hot!” I said to my best friend in the whole wide world.

Georgia was freakin’ beautiful. Just as beautiful now as she had been when she’d left.

And I’d missed the absolute crap out of her.

Georgia smiled over at me.

“Which one?” She asked cheekily.

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