Just Her Luck (76 page)

There went the hand again, much slower this time.

“I don’t feel a damn thing.” His grin was downright sappy.

I slapped his grabby hand away.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he muttered, sulking.

He sighed heavily, shaking out his stinging fingers.

Easily enough distracted, he glanced at the doctor.

“I mean, hey, doc, you get it, right? Have you
seen
my woman?” He eyed me up and down. “She’s fuckin’ perfect.”

His voice had taken on a low husky quality and he shifted a little restlessly in the bed, practically rolling his ‘r’s as he purred at me, his sexy, bedroom eyes glued to my ass.

Wide eyed, I asked the doctor, “What the hell! Is he high? What did you people give him?!”

“Pffft! I’m not high, my little love muffin! I’m drunk! Drunk on your
loooovvvee!”

Oh, my god!

I slapped my hand over my mouth so I didn’t burst out laughing, tempted to slap one over his.

The doctor couldn’t stifle a small grin.

I glared at the man until he looked appropriately apologetic.

“Well?” I demanded, my foot tapping on the tiled floor.

Make it quick, dude, my patience is paper thin right now.

“He wouldn’t let us set his leg, he became very agitated…” the doctor explained.

Ahhhh, so my sexy blonde has a hospital phobia too, huh?

This is a small hospital, more of a tiny building than anything, more like a clinic.

It doesn’t seem like they have a large staff.

Wonder how many men it took to pin his ass down?

I stroked Thatcher’s hair, brushing the stray strands off of his forehead

He smiled sweetly, closed his eyes and sighed.

“His brothers helped, uh, subdue him while we gave him something to relax him a little.”

I snorted.

“A little?”

“Same shit they gave you, my love,” Thatcher piped up, gripping my hand and nuzzling it, his tongue peeking out for a lick.

Embarrassed for myself and the poor, suddenly awkward, frazzled doc who now looked distinctly uncomfortable, I tugged my hand out of Thatcher’s grip and gave him a stern look until he harrumphed and slumped down.

There.

Much better.

Now, where was I?

Oh, yeah.

“Is this normal?” I whispered to the doc, worried for my broken up cupcake.

“Everyone has different
reactions
to medications.”

Uh- huh.

“I see…”

Good lord, how did
I
react when I was all hopped up?

I wanted to groan out loud, internally cringing.

I glanced at Thatcher, eyeing him.

He was trying to peek under the sheet again, his brows pulling down, puzzled.

Good grief!

If I acted anything like he is right now I don’t think I
really
wanna know.

I gripped Thatcher’s hand again, having a mini battle of tug of war with him until I could subdue the curious appendage from lifting the sheet so he could eye his
other
curious appendage, pinning his hand to his side.

The doctor cleared his throat a few times, shuffling his feet, pulling at his collar, not quite sure, I’d guess, on what to say or how to proceed at the moment.

I gave a forced smile, pinching Thatch’s hand.

He yelped, but quit squirming.

I don’t think the doctor, at this point, didn’t know quite what to make of us.

“Well, erm, Mr. Harrison, your leg should heal nicely, just follow the instructions we give you and you’ll be just fine.”

“Thank you.” I gave the poor man a small, genuine smile, relieved a bit.

“Do you think she’s pregnant?” Thatcher asked thoughtfully, eyeing me.

“What?!” I sputtered, free hand already extended out to shake the doctor’s hand as he got ready to leave.

The doctor’s return smile for me fell and he fumbled on what to say, how to answer that.

He gaped for a full minute, doing the guppy thing with his flapping jaw.

Open, close, open, close.

“I mean, the way her and I go at…”

“Don’t say a word!” I warned, head swiveling back and forth between both of them. “Don’t you dare, say a word!
Either of you!
I am not pregnant! And I’ll pummel anyone who says otherwise!”

“Uhmmm, okay.”

“She gets grumpy when she misses me!” Thatcher whispered loudly, giving the fumbling stutterer in the white lab coat, who looked distinctly put on the spot, an exaggerated wink.

Loud footsteps hurried down the hall, right outside of the room.

We all turned to see ‘E’ hurry in.

He pulled his hat off and fiddled with it, approaching Thatch’s physician.

“Hey, doc, how’s the patient? He’s got a worried girly headed this way and we’d like to be able to tell her…”

“Can we go home now, my love?” Thatcher growled, “I want to ravish you.”

This time I
did
smack my hand over his mouth, fighting between irritation, mortification, and amusement.

If this was happening to anyone else I’d be busting the hell up.

“Shut up, short stack, you snapped your leg, there will be no ravishing.”

“Spoil sport,” he mumbled, his words muffled into my hand.

Ephraim finally noticed me in the room, Thatcher’s hand absently toying with the back of my jeans, right above my ass, frowning slightly, my hand still firmly in place.

Damn it! When did his hand get loose?

Again!

“Oh, uh, hey, baby.” Ephraim made his way cautiously towards me, unsure of his welcome at the moment, “Been here long?” He laughed a little uneasily.

“Long enough.” I raised a brow at him, giving him an answering look

He winced.

“Just fine, my ass! What do you call
this,
Ephraim?” I waved my hand at Thatcher’s poor leg. “Hmmmm? Does
this
look fine to you?”

My man is hurt, god damn it!

Somebody make a big deal about it!

“Looks just fine to me,” my gimpy cupcake purred.

My head swung around to him.

“Quiet, you!”

“Yes, ma’am!” He saluted me, wincing when he used his bad hand.

“Damn it, put that shit down and don’t move! Where’s the ace bandage or whatever you have to put on it? I’ll wrap the damned thing up myself if it will get us the heck out of here sooner.”

Bowen and Sawyer chose that moment to storm in.

“Heya, Doc Thomas, how’s the gimp?”

“Someone stole my clothes,” Thatcher informed everyone, eyeing them all like he suspected them of swindling him.

“I don’t need to steal your clothes,” I leaned down and whispered, “You always give them to me freely.”

“True,” he nodded thoughtfully and glared at the rest of his suspects, dismissing me.

“Don’t look at
me
,” Bo snorted, “I don’t want to see your fat ass any more than the next man.”

“I don’t have a fat ass!” Thatch bellowed, trying to get up.

I patted his hand comfortingly, stifling a laugh, pushing him back down against the pillows.

“I don’t.”

“Of course you don’t, sweetie.” my voice was deceptively sweet, straightening the collar of his hospital gown.

He didn’t pick up my condescending, placating tone. He was a little too far into medicine induced la la land at the moment to notice.

I turned to Bowen.

“You aren’t helping any.”

“Who said anything about helping?” He gave me one of his big bad grins, following it up with a saucy wink.

He’s terrible, I tell ya! Terrible!

I rolled my eyes.

Sometimes I don’t know if I want to strangle him or kiss the shit out of him.

“How about it, Tommy? Can he go home?” Sawyer spoke up, elbowing the doctor, Thomas or whatever.

“Please,” he muttered, shoving papers at him before he hurried out of the room, muttering under his breath.

I watched him scurry his ass the hell outta here, shaking my head at his abrupt exit.

How rude!

He has a terrible bedside manner!

But he sure can walk fast when motivated, can’t he?

Thatcher glanced around the room. “Well, motherfuckers, where are my god damned clothes?”

I sighed heavily and walked straight to the nurse’s station, wondering if maybe I
should
have just waited until he got home to see him.

Oh, the things I do for these men.

****

They were wheeling Thatcher to the front of the hospital, him wearing a dry set of clean clothes Sawyer had brought in for him-
for some reason, the one’s he wore to the hospital were wet? I dunno-
and I followed behind him with Sawyer while Bowen and Ephraim snagged the truck, bringing it around front.

“Alright,” Bowen hollered to the male nurse from his opened truck door, “Just toss his ass in, it’ll all be good.”

The nurse chuckled.

“You guys are so mean to each other when you’re hurt.” I grabbed Thatch’s things and handed them to Ephraim from his rolled down passenger side window.

“You still mad at me?” Ephraim teased, brushing a tendril of hair out of my face.

“Maybe.” I gave him a teasing smile, and he chuckled, brushing his lips with mine.

“Hey! Those are my kisses! Quit scamming on my wife!” Thatcher shouted.

I pulled back and groaned, the people loitering around the outside of the hospital staring at us.

“Wife?” a deep familiar timber barked from directly behind me.

Reeve wrapped his arms around my waist and hugged me too him, leaning down until his breath caressed my neck.

I shivered.

“Been busy, gremlin?” he whispered, his voice a low sexy murmur, making me bite my lip.

“Ignore him,” I waved my hand around airily, “he’s delusional.”

“Can’t I leave you alone for ten seconds without you gettin’ into some kind of mischief?” Reeve grumbled, smiling against my neck.

“Aren’t you his wife, though?” the male nurse I’d scared the shit out of asked earnestly, befuddled, “that’s what you told me when you demanded I tell you where he was, ma’am.”

“Oh? Huh, funny. Don’t have the foggiest what you’re talking about.”

“So then you’re not his wife?” His eyes darted around, each of us one at a time questioningly.

“Of course she is!” Thatcher insisted, safely ensconced in the truck now. “I have a ring for her and everything!”

“Do you now?” Reeve asked mockingly, messing with Thatcher.

I elbowed him. “It’s not funny. He’s out of it right now. You guys are so mean to him.”

I pulled away and crossed my arms over my chest.

He pulled me right back against him. “Aw, hell cat, don’t be like that.”

I melted a little when he started rubbing my arms, warding off the sudden chill in the air.

I thought that was the end of
that
conversation, right there, ready to just drop it, forget the whole thing, but he must have felt he wasn’t done yet.

Stupid, idiot!

“What better time to fuck with him, prison bait. It’s not like he’s going to remember any of it tomorrow anyways,” he said, matter of fact.

Sawyer, Reeve, Ephraim and Bowen all started busting up.

I marched off, one quick kiss to my broken rogue before I headed for my car.

“You’re all a bunch of assholes! Good gravy! I’m surrounded by assholes!”

They laughed harder when they heard me, calling for me between belly laughs to come back.

I ignored them all, hopping in my car to peel out.

I decided on the way home to stop by Barry’s and give Ruthie a hello, see how my favorite Auntie is doing.

Dear Heart To Heart

“What happened?”

I looked over at Ruthie.

“What do you mean?” I munched on another chocolate cookie, stuffing it in hurriedly so I didn’t have to answer.

“Oh, don’t you play stupid with me, missy. You didn’t just drive all the way over here so we could B.S. and eat cookies. What. Happened?”

I gave her a blank stare, mouth full, stopping mid-chew.

She glared.