Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Got it,” Maverick says; then I listen to him relay the message to Blake as we walk up to the road. When we reach the bus, I expect Tanner to put me down, but of course he takes the steps up, and everyone starts to ask if I’m okay. As he lets me down in the front, I assure them I’m fine. The bus starts to move, forcing everyone to take their seats.
“You doing okay, sunshine?” Tanner asks, sitting next to me and wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
“Just wonderful.” I rest the side of my head against his chest as he takes my injured hand in his and holds it carefully in his lap.
“How much pain are you in on a scale from one to ten?”
“One million,” I only slightly exaggerate. With every beat of my heart, the throbbing pain in my hand only seems to grow more intense.
“You’ll feel better soon.” He turns his head to kiss the top of my hair. “As soon as we get to the hospital, I’ll make sure they give you something for the pain.”
“Thank you.” I close my eyes, then sigh. “At least it wasn’t my right hand, right?”
“Right,” he agrees, not sounding like he agrees at all. “Do you have your ID and stuff in your pack?”
I frown, then lift my head to look at him. “I don’t know what I did with it. I don’t even remember taking it off.”
“Lauren took it from you.” He looks over his shoulder and calls out for her to pass the pack forward. When he has it, he sets it at his feet, and then the bus starts to slow. Not long after that, he’s lifting me into the passenger seat of his jacked-up truck and driving me to the hospital.
Totally awesome.
Not.
Chapter 13
TANNER
As I sit in the chair next to Cybil, my teeth grind as I attempt to keep my cool, something that Dr. Smooth—yes, that’s really his name—is making nearly impossible for me to do. Before now, I never understood why men act like Neanderthals around their women, pounding their chests and growling one-syllable words. Now, I fucking get it, and it will be a miracle if I make it through Cybil getting her stitches without acting like a jealous asshole.
“I travel to Oregon quite frequently. We should meet up the next time I’m there and have coffee,” Dr. Smooth says with his head tipped down, completely missing the daggers I’m shooting at the side of his head.
Cybil licks her lips, glancing at me quickly. “Maybe,” she says, and the only reason I don’t toss a chair, pound my chest, and war-cry the word mine is because she looks a mix of bewildered and a little horrified by the attention and suggestion.
“Cool.” He looks up at her, smiling, with his shaggy blond hair falling into his eyes. “And if you’re going to be here a few more days, I could show you around.”
“She’ll be with me,” I say, unable to help myself, and he turns my way.
“Oh.” His brows draw together as he focuses back on Cybil. “I thought you said you were just here for one of those adventure trips.”
“Buddy,” I growl, and his eyes fly to me, “can you just focus on stitching up her hand? She’s tired and not interested.”
Swallowing, he drops his gaze and gets to work. Thankfully, he’s quiet while he finishes up, then quickly provides instructions on how to take care of the injury and when to return to have the stitches removed. By the time we leave the hospital, the sun has set, and Cybil is half falling asleep. I stop at the drugstore to pick up her prescriptions and then drive to the lodge, when all I really want to do is take her up to my place and hide her away for the next week, maybe even longer.
“Do you think everyone will be mad if I just wave at them and go to bed?” she asks after I open the passenger-side door to my truck.
“Even if they are, who the hell cares?” I turn so that she can climb onto my back, ignoring her huff before she wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my hips. Thankfully her ankle is fine, but she did twist it, so it’s going to be sore for a couple of days. “And you need to take a pain pill.”
“I know. I also want to shower, but I don’t know that I’ll be able to do that with this stupid thing.” She holds her bandaged hand in front of my face. “It’s going to take me a year to wash my hair.”
“I’ll help you,” I assure her, feeling the muscles in her thighs tense under my palms. “I’ll also keep my eyes closed.”
“Yeah, right.” She laughs, and I smile as I head up the steps and walk through the door. Before I even have a chance to put her down, Parker spots us and tells everyone we’re back, so Cybil is engulfed and slammed with question after question. I watch as she’s helped to one of the couches, then lift my chin to Blake and Maverick as they make their way across the room toward me.