Hard Irish (9 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Saints

Tags: #Mystery, #jennifer st. giles, #irish, #spicy, #bad boy, #weldon, #southern, #Contemporary, #Romance, #erotic, #construction, #passion, #Suspense, #jennifer saints, #undercover

BOOK: Hard Irish
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The receptionist left and Jared slumped on the exam table a little too quickly.  Rocky had taken his light banter with the woman as a sign that he was less injured than she thought, but maybe not.  He looked pale and sweat beaded his brow.  She took charge.  “Let’s get you comfortable.”

Slipping her arms beneath his legs, she helped him lay back on the table.  When she’d bandaged his leg at the job, she had rolled his jeans to the knee, which enabled her to see.  Just moving from the car to the clinic had caused blood to seep through the bandage.  She hoped the clinic had everything an ER had.  If it didn’t, she was prepared to fight Jared and take his ass to the hospital.

Quick and efficient, she removed his other boot and undid the top buttons of his shirt to cool him off.  But no matter how much she tried to dismiss it, the supple, heated feel of him was like an addictive drug.  She wanted to touch and feel more.   He watched her every move.  It was nerve-racking.

Looking for a breather, she went in search of something else to help.  She located paper towels and nabbed some water from the sink.  Jared had his eyes shut when she returned.  He opened them the moment she placed the cool cloth on his forehead.  Their gazes met and her stomach clenched at the intensity in his blue eyes.  He may be injured, but there was no mistaking the sensual hunger that reached out and grabbed her.

I want this to be on a personal level and not a professional one.

Damn, why was her pulse racing?  The exam room door opened and she turned with relief, albeit, a short lived respite.  Jared sat up and placed an unsteady hand around her waist, urging her closer to him.

“Jackson, bro.  Meet Roxanne McKenna of McKenna Construction Company.  I need you to call Jesse and tell him I’m going to be out of work for a few days.  I’m going to see to her security while recuperating from this.”  He motioned to his foot.

Jackson frowned.  “Did you say Jesse?”

“Yup.  Jesse.”

During the exchange, Rocky eased from Jared’s hold and held her hand out to Jackson.  He shook it with a hard, firm grip.  There was no mistaking they were brothers.  They’d been cut from the same deadly tall-dark-and-handsome cloth.  “Call me Rocky.  And we’ll see about him playing hero after we find out how bad he’s hurt.”

“Playing?  Thought I did more than that.”  Jared groaned.

Jackson who’d seemed frozen in place for a moment released her hand and focused on Jared.  “What happened?”

“A cement planter fell six stories and pinned his boot to the ground,” Rocky answered.

“A cement planter that was
pushed
from a sixth floor balcony and
aimed
at your head,” Jared said, glaring at her.  “And you’re welcome for saving you.”

Rocky bit her lip.  She’d been so stunned, busy, and worried that she hadn’t said anything about his rescue.  “Thank you,” she whispered.

Jared grinned as if he’d won a prize.  “You’re welcome.”  

 “Well, let’s see the damage.”  Jackson sanitized his hands and slipped on a pair of exam gloves.  “Nice work,” he said as he unbandaged Jared’s leg.

“She is,” Jared muttered.

Rocky would have elbowed him except she noticed the strain of pain on Jared’s face and guessed he was grasping at straws to distract himself.

Jackson laughed.  “You must not be too bad if you’re thinking that.”

Jared rolled his eyes.  “I’m a Weldon.”

“Good point,” Jackson said as he slid the sock off Jared’s foot. Bloodied and already bruised, he had a large, jagged, gash on the back of his calf.  “We’re going to need x-rays and you’re going to need stitches.  There was so much force behind the blow that it split your tissue open.  We’ll know more after the x-ray and I sew you up.”

“Joy,” Jared said.

“Not yet.  First we need to clean you up and ditch the jeans.”

The receptionist popped her head in the door.  “How long do you want Tinker on the nebulizer?  And the pharmacy is on line one.  Something about Mrs. Cooper’s prescription.”

Seeing help was needed, Rocky stepped forward.  “Give me the supplies and I’ll get Jared cleaned up for x-ray.”

Jackson looked relieved.  “You sure?”

“Positive.”

He opened two cabinets and instructed as he pulled things down.  “Mix a little Betadine with normal saline in this basin.  Then use the gauze and the solution to clean off his leg.  Press a clean gauze pad to the wound when you’re done.  Most of the bleeding has stopped but the wound is still oozing.  I’ll be back in five.”

“Don’t forget to call Jesse and tell him the situation, okay?  I’ll explain anything else later.”

“Got it,” Jackson said then left.

Rocky hoped the doctor’s worried frown wasn’t because Jared was more injured than he was letting on.  She got the supplies ready then forced a smile as she faced Jared.  “Let’s get your jeans off first.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Jared said, unbuckling his belt and loosening the button and zipper.

“That was a command born from professional necessity, not a voluntary request,” she quipped back.  She knew that line or something similar was coming, but she still chuckled.   Or maybe it was just pent up energy escaping.  She could look at the situation as objectively as possible but to deny that seeing him shuck down his jeans didn’t hit her hot button would have been a lie.  Calvin Klein’s never looked so good.

“I love a woman who takes charge.”

Some take charge
Kama Sutra
flashed.  Rocky decided she was going to shoot Dessie.  “I’m beginning to think you love any and all women.” She laughed again at his responding frown.  He apparently had issues about being called a player.  By the time she finished pulling his jeans over his injured leg, neither of them were laughing.  His pain was too real—for both of them.

“I’m sorry.”  She set her hand over his fist.

He drew several breaths.  “Let’s get this over with.”

She cleaned him off as gently as she could and was ready by the time his brother returned with a wheelchair and a patient gown.

Jared frowned as Jackson handed it to him.  “You can’t be serious.  You want me to wear this ass flasher?”

“Yeah, over your underwear, bro.  No need to strip bare.  While I don’t mind you going around in your underwear, other patients might take issue with it.”  Jackson met her gaze.  “Be best for you to wait here, okay?”

Rocky nodded.  She’d been the x-ray route with a broken limb before and sometimes positioning for it could get really painful.  They left and she called Mack.

“How are things on the job?  Any other mishaps?  Any strangers seen?”

“Things are moving fast.  No other incidents but rumors about ghosts and curses are running rampant.  The men are on edge.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, but I’m nipping that crap in the bud.  There’s no mob-related ghost trying to oust us from his hotel.”

“Crazy. I’m not sure how long this is going to take.  I might not be back in today.”

“We’ve got it covered.”

“Call me if you have questions.”

“Just one.  I tried to call Patrick but he didn’t answer.  Do you know where he is?”

“He’s supposed to come to the jobsite this afternoon.  He was meeting with the concrete suppliers this morning.”  Mack’s question reminded Rocky that Uncle Pat would be bringing her the box from her mother.  “Tell him to call when he arrives.”

“Will do.  And boss, this friend—he keeps showing up at just the right time.  What’s up with that?  You trust him?”

Rocky glanced around the clinic, considered her interaction with Jared and couldn’t see why or how Jared wasn’t on the up and up.  Maybe it was fate, destiny, karma...whatever.  He was the right man at the right place at the right time.  “Yeah, I trust him.”

“Good.  Then don’t hurry back.  I can’t remember the last time you’ve taken any time off, if ever.  Nothing big happening here.”

The only time she’d taken off recently was to be with her father when he’d first fallen ill with a stroke.

“We’ll see.” Rocky hung up.  A knock on the door had her turning.

The door opened and a man stood there, assessing her from head to toe with a sharp eye.  He wasn’t as tall as Jared and Jackson, but he was a little broader in the shoulders, and had the unmistakable “Weldon brand” on him—tall, dark, devastation that just didn’t let up.

“You’re either Jesse or James,” Rocky said, holding out her hand.  “I’m Rocky McKenna.”  He moved into the room, immediately filling it up. 

“Jesse,” he said, shaking her hand.  His grip was firm and comfortable.  “You’ll know James when you see him.  I take it you haven’t known Jared long?”

Rocky smiled. “Jared sort of introduced himself last night.  He took issue with the trouble my ex seemed bent on causing.  Didn’t he mention it?”

“Likely.  It’s been a busy day.”

“So you run a security company with him?”

“We do business together.  Where’s he at?”

“Getting x-rayed.”

“Good.  I’ll be back in a minute.”  He glanced back from the door.  “Great to meet you.  Amazing in fact.”

He left and Rocky exhaled, feeling as if a storm to be reckoned with had just blown by her.

It was ten minutes before all three men returned to the room.  Jared looked pale.  Jackson concerned. And Jesse, well he looked stormier.

“Is it bad?”

Jared didn’t say anything.  He glared at Jesse.

“Not too bad,” Jackson said.  “I’ll get a radiologist to confirm, but no major break.  A possible hairline fracture low on the tibia.  We’ll sew him up, strap on a boot, and he should be good to go.”

“Okay.  That’s good then.”

“Is it?” Jesse narrowed his gaze at her.

“Leave her out of this,” Jared said.

Jesse ignored his brother.  “Your ex ever tried to kill you before?”

Shocked at his directness, Rocky took a step back.  “No.”

“But he or someone meant to cause serious harm today.”

Jared clearly resented Jesse’s presence. “I told you I suspect that’s what happened.  Why the third degree?” 

Jesse wasn’t happy either. “Because, it’s my duty as your older brother to make sure I’m not letting you get in over your head.”

“This isn’t an official job and having a boot on my foot isn’t going to hinder my aim.”

“But if you get into anything hand-to-hand you’ll be at a disadvantage.  I want you to check in every six hours and call for back-up at the first sign of trouble.” Jesse narrowed his gaze at her.  “I’m going to count on you to remind him to do it.”

“I can do that,” she found herself saying.  Meeting Jared’s brothers and getting a sense of the bond between them, had been better than any paper recommendation or character referral.  That Jared had put himself in danger twice on her account also went a long way in his favor, but she hadn’t quite made a final decision about bringing him to her house, yet she found herself somehow sealing her fate.

By the time Jared got a tetanus shot, stitches, an immobilizing boot strapped on, and pain meds, she’d yet to figure out exactly how it all happened, but it had.  Dessie had said for Rocky to do whatever she had to do to be comfortable in her own home.  Rocky wasn’t sure just how comfortable she was going to be with Jared lounging around.  The man defined excitement with every line of his lean, hard body and she had quite a number of ideas on what to do with him. 

That damn book Dessie had thrown at her last night was causing her problems.  Having Collin bang on her door seemed to be the least of her worries.

 

 

From the passenger’s seat of Rocky’s red truck, Jared thought his life couldn’t get any lower.  Jesse had pushed him so far under he didn’t think he’d surface for a decade or two.  That’s if he didn’t die from embarrassment before then.

Check in every six hours.  Call at the least sign of trouble.  It’s my duty as your older brother to make sure I’m not letting you get in over your head.

Jared nearly snorted out loud with disdain.  He’d gotten his wish to be the man assuring Rocky’s safety, but some hero he was turning out to be.  Not only did he have a lame foot, but his big brother had to show up and make a production of wiping his baby brother’s ass.

His only consolation was that Jesse had come bearing a bag of goodies.  Everything a man going on bodyguard assignment needed, including a well-oiled, fully-automatic Glock 18—a gun that not every Joe Blow on the street could have.  Jared had been to the shooting range with Jesse and his brothers enough to know that Jared was more than comfortable with the way the Glock handled.

Rocky had neighbors, but she wasn’t exactly in a bustling area of suburbia.  In fact, he’d label the old subdivision carved from South Carolina’s coastal marsh as fairly remote.  Instead of a traditional pitched roof to her salt-boxed style house, someone had cut the top off and put in a captain’s walk to overlook the undeveloped marshy area behind her property.  From where he stood, he thought he saw some greenery up there, but wasn’t sure.  White siding and picket fencing with a plethora of flowers made for a quaint almost-old-fashioned house.  The complete opposite of his and James’s upscale condo.

He’d always felt that property made a statement about the owner.  It was one of the founding tenets in developing Weldon Estates.  Following that truth, Jared determined that Rocky McKenna liked things simple, gravitated to the old-fashioned, and was isolated as hell.  Whereas the pink-stucco, two-story eye-sore of her nearest neighbor with the wooden flamingos planted around a palm-tree oasis in the yard as well as a pink 57 Chevy mailbox, screamed of flamboyance that had missed the Hollywood turn-off—three decades ago.  Maybe five.

Rocky rounded the front of her pick-up and headed his way.  “Let me help,” she said as he pulled out the clothes-filled overnight bag Jackson had given him, along with a pair of crutches.  He wore a polo shirt and cargo shorts that he borrowed from Jackson, his jeans and shirt too bloodied and stained to wear.

“I got it,” Jared muttered.  Even though he had an immobilizing boot strapped to his foot, Jackson still wanted Jared to keep weight off his foot until a radiologist read the x-ray—which wouldn’t happen until sometime tomorrow.  It had been the final coffin-nail in Jared’s hero to the rescue illusions.  Now he was an invalid on her doorstep.

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