The Surgeon's Convenient Husband, page 17
A frown and a nod were his only acknowledgments, and Treadwell began to count as Beck got on with it. As soon as he’d passed the minimum number of pull-ups, he dropped down for sit-ups, then rolled to push-ups, stopping each time he’d passed the required amount, leaving himself room to “improve” as camp continued.
Treadwell’s arched brow? Beck shrugged a touch. “Conserving energy.”
His muscles buzzing, he pulled himself off the ground, retrieved his radio, then went for another drink so he could sit on the grass to watch the others work their way through as he listened.
Still no new reports to free him.
Autry had been in the middle of the five, but as he watched, she talked herself to the rear of the group.
She’d learn soon enough how to survive these days: go early, get it over with, don’t waste energy showing off. Take all opportunities to rest.
Or not. Maybe it was better for him if she kept doing whatever she was doing. If she finished too soon, she’d be there beside him, asking questions. Making a nuisance of herself with her newbie enthusiasm.
Copyright © 2019 by Amalie Berlin
ISBN-13: 9781488047992
The Surgeon’s Convenient Husband
First North American Publication 2019
Copyright © 2019 by Amy Ruttan
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Amy Ruttan, The Surgeon's Convenient Husband
