talked to his brother since Sam had betrayed him in the worst possible way.
Get it together, Jackson. He’d promised himself after Sam and Lacey’s betrayal that he’d never let himself be humiliated that way again. His parents were concerned that he’d wind up alone. Well, maybe he’d be alone, but at least he’d know that he was living his life on his terms. That no one was taking advantage of him.
So why was he inviting a complete stranger to call him by his first name? He’d always hated his name.
She smiled briefly. It was a very tired smile. “Gavin, then. I’m Alexa.”
He changed his mind. He liked the way his name sounded when she said it. He really needed to focus.
Touching her lightly on the elbow, he pointed to an area away from the others in the room. Alexa seemed to understand. She led him behind the receptionist’s counter. Turning to face him, she raised an eyebrow and waited.
“I know you were worried about Noah Hostetler. I wanted to let you know that he made it to the hospital. He’s going into surgery, but he was conscious and alert. His wife is on the way to join him.”
“Oh!” Her blue-gray eyes glittered with unshed tears. “Thank you so much for letting me know. I was worried about him.”
He reached out and patted her shoulder. It was an awkward movement. Her eyes widened, and she jerked back slightly, flushed. He dropped his arm instantly, feeling like an idiot. What was he thinking? He had never been the touchy-feely type. It just wasn’t his style. He’d blame it on exhaustion. His shift was supposed to have ended two hours ago, but between the accident and now this shooting, he would be on the job for at least two more hours before he could head home and sleep.
“Hey, Alexa, what is this? It looks like you had a delivery,” the receptionist said.
Something flashed in her eyes before she averted them. Was it embarrassment? Fear? Whatever it was, she didn’t look happy to be receiving a delivery. In fact, she looked downright annoyed about it. She looked at the box the receptionist, Megan, pointed to with a scowl. Something was going on here. Although, it really was none of his business. The flowers were probably from an ex. He glanced at her left hand. No rings. Not even an indentation. So she probably wasn’t married or recently divorced.
“When did that get here?”
“I don’t know. I just saw it sitting here.”
“Miss Grant!” A man in a doctor’s coat strode up to them, scowling. “Haven’t I asked you not to get your deliveries here? This is a medical facility!”
“Yes, Dr. Quinton. I’m sorry, but I have no idea who’s sending them.”
Well, that was interesting.
The doctor wasn’t appeased. “Tell the florist to stop making deliveries here then.”
“Yes, Dr. Quinton. I told the florist that. Last week. This is from a different florist. One from out of town.”
The man huffed. “See that it doesn’t happen again.” He turned abruptly and left. Alexa tossed the narrow box on the counter. It bounced, and the lid fell off. A single red rose dropped onto the countertop. A note was in the box. She picked it up. The color drained from Alexa’s face. Concerned, Gavin stepped forward and grabbed the note from her shaking hand.
“It’s your fault he’s dead. You’re mine. Don’t forget it again.”
Alexa accepted the bottled water that Gavin brought to her with a smile of gratitude. She needed to have something in her hands to keep them from fidgeting. She sat in the conference room at the LaMar Pond Police Department. Sergeant Parker seated himself in a chair on the other side of the table. Gavin stood right inside the door. The rose and the note she’d received had been whisked away into evidence. She didn’t complain. If she never saw another rose again, that would be great. She never would have guessed that her day would have turned out this way.
Unscrewing the cap, she lifted the bottle to her lips and took a long drink. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was. How long had it been since she had last eaten? Too long. She had not had a chance to grab her lunch, and then things had gotten crazy. She needed something soon if she didn’t want her blood sugar levels to crash. She wasn’t feeling dizzy or confused yet, although she was a bit shaky. That could be from the shock of the morning’s events, though. But what if it wasn’t? She wasn’t fatigued, though, which was a good sign. She had her sugar tablets in her bag, but she should eat something too.
“Do you need anything else? Something to eat?” Gavin inquired.
She smiled at him, relieved. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble. I was really sick years ago and developed type two diabetes. I’m feeling a little shaky. It’s probably nothing, but I don’t want to take the chance.”
Gavin’s eyes widened with alarm. “You have diabetes? Hang on!” He bolted out the door. She stared at the empty doorway, mouth open. She hadn’t expected him to react like that. A chuckle from Sergeant Parker drew her attention back to the room. He shrugged when she lifted her eyebrows at him. Well, she might as well make use of the time. Opening her purse, she found her testing kit and quickly pricked her finger to test her levels. She grimaced at the number on the small screen. Definitely too low. Hopefully, Gavin would bring her something she could use. A few minutes later, Gavin returned. He had a tray in his hands. “I went to the cafeteria and found some orange juice for you.” He took it off the tray and handed her the carton.
Gratefully, she accepted the juice and opened it. The juice was sweet and cold. Finishing it off, she tossed the empty carton in the garbage can.
Gavin tossed to the remaining items on the tray. “I also got some food for you, seeing as you missed lunch. Eat what you want. Don’t worry about whatever is left.” He noticed her kit and nodded. “Good. I see you’ve already tested.”
She examined the food he’d brought, pleasantly surprised. This was a man who knew diabetes. Salad, some sort of plain lean meat—turkey or chicken, she couldn’t tell which—and a small cup of applesauce. Her nutritionist had told her to limit her carbs, but make sure her meals were centered around protein and veggies. Interesting. Judging by his reaction, he’d dealt with someone with type two diabetes before.
“Do you need anything else?” He hovered near her. If she said she did need something else, he’d probably run out the door again to get it. She quickly tried to put him at ease.
“No, thank you, Gavin. I’m good.” She flashed a smile his way before picking up a bite of the meat. Chicken. She was being fanciful, but she could practically feel her blood sugar level stabilizing again as she chewed.
Nodding, Gavin proceeded to close the door. It was time to get down to business.
Sergeant Parker threw Gavin a look that could only be described as surprised. Why? Because she addressed the other cop by his first name? Was that wrong? He told her to. She decided that whatever it was, it wasn’t important.
A laugh trickled out of her. It was a laugh filled with stress and nerves and very little humor. “I feel like I’m in trouble here.”
“Nah.”
