Chapter Twenty-One #2
“Calm down, Samantha,” Nick said.
“Do not tell me to calm down,” she replied, her teeth gritted and her eyes shooting fire at him.
God, he loved her.
Scotty returned with Freddie.
“Tell me they got the SUV,” Sam said to her partner.
“I wish I could,” Freddie said, “but it was long gone by the time Patrol got there.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, motherfucking fuck!”
“Mom! Language!”
“I’ll put fifty in the swear jar.”
“That swear jar is going to put me through college,” Scotty said, making all the adults laugh, even his mom.
“And in case you were wondering, the driver of the car that hit you was fine,” Freddie said.
“Of course they’re fine, and I’m stuck here with killers to catch.” She reached up to take her frustrations out on her hair and winced.
“What?” Nick asked.
“Found another lump on my head, and it’s wet.”
“Let me see,” Anderson said.
Nick moved out of his way but stayed close in case she needed him.
She winced as Anderson examined the area.
“That’s going to require a couple of staples.”
“No way,” Sam said. “No fucking staples in my head.”
“Better make it a hundred bucks,” Scotty said. “I have a feeling this is gonna be a long day.”
Three hours, multiple X-rays and five staples later, Sam was moved to a private room upstairs.
Nick and Scotty had been with her the whole time, but they’d sent Scotty out of the room to stay with Freddie while she got the staples.
Her dad and Celia had come to the hospital and had taken Scotty to get something to eat, leaving her alone with Nick after Freddie went back to work.
“You and I are in the biggest fight of our lives,” she announced the second the nurse left the room.
“What’d I do now?” Nick asked, nonplussed.
He wasn’t the slightest bit afraid of her, and that pissed her off even more. Clearly, she’d gone too soft on him. “You had to tell them I lost consciousness, didn’t you?”
The bastard snorted with laughter. “Sorry if I’d rather not wake up to find you dead in our bed, you big baby.”
She directed her fiercest glare at him. “Who you calling a big baby?”
“You.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it before she could yank it out of his grasp.
“I’m mad at you. No kissing.”
Leaning over her, he propped an arm on either side of her hips and pressed his sexy lips to hers. “Yes, kissing.”
For a second, she forgot she was mad, because his lips were so soft and sweet and perfect. Then she remembered his betrayal and turned her head away from him.
He refocused on her neck, making her want to moan from the pleasure.
Bastard.
“Stop trying to kiss your way out of trouble.”
“Stop being a big baby about hospitals and admit you’re hurt and right where you belong.”
“I am not where I belong! I need to be with my squad looking for the sons of bitches that’re killing innocent people in this city!”
“Then have your squad come here, but you, my love, are going nowhere.”
“Biggest. Fight. Ever.”
“You. Don’t. Scare. Me.”
“I know! I need to work on that. I’ve been babying you.”
He laughed so hard he shook with it. “Babying me? When the hell have you ever babied me?”
“I must be doing something wrong if you think you can totally throw me under the bus during a huge case and get away with it.”
Shaking his head in disbelief, he smiled at her, and oh, that smile… That smile was potent. Focus! You’re mad at him!
“A, I did not throw you under the bus. B, you are in fact injured. And C, if it makes you feel better to blame me for that, then have at it. I can handle you.”
“You’re not going to be handling me for a long, long time at this rate.”
“Whatever.” He sat beside the bed, put his feet up on the frame and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
“Um, excuse me, we’re having a fight here. Could you please put your phone away and pay attention to me?”
“I will when you stop being ridiculous.”
“I am not being ridiculous!”
“Okay,” he said, still focused on his phone.
“Nick!”
He glanced at her. “Yes, dear?”
Her mouth tightened, and her eyes shot flames at him again.
His lips quivered with amusement. “You’re so hot when you’re pissed.”
“I must be on fire right now then.”
“Mmm.” Standing, he slid the phone into his pocket and approached the bed. “Move over. I’m coming in.”
“What? Wait! We’re fighting!”
“We’re done now.”
“You don’t get to decide that! This is my fight!”
“That you’re having it with yourself. I’m your unwilling victim.”
“I’m going to punch you, and I’m going to make it hurt.”
“Easy, killer.” He wrapped his hand around the fist she aimed at him. “It’s not my fault you’re here. I understand you’re angry about being sidelined with an extremely upsetting case going on, but you’ve got the best people working with you, and if you tell them what to do, they’ll do it.”
“Don’t do that.”
“What am I doing now?”
“Being all logical and calm when I’m mad at you.”
He cupped her face in his big hand and compelled her to look at him. “You’re not mad at me. You’re mad at the person who hit you and took you off the job at a critical moment.”
“No, I’m mad at you.”
Smiling, he kissed her.
She started to resist, but honestly, who would she be hurting by doing that? Only herself. His kisses were to die for, even when she was mad at him.
“There,” he said, after kissing her into submission, “that’s better.”
“Stop managing me.”
“You’re often unmanageable.”
“You love that about me.”
“I love everything about you, even when you pick fights with me, because you’re so damned sexy when you’re mad.”
“You’re saying that to make me mad again.”
“Does that mean this storm has passed?”
“For now, but I won’t forget the way you gave me up downstairs.”
“I can live with that as long as I’m living with you.” He continued to caress her face. “You scared me. You should’ve seen how much blood was on your face when they brought you in. I almost passed out.”
“Sorry. I hate that I did that to you—and Scotty. The poor kid is going to need PTSD treatment after living with us.”
“You mean after living with you.”
“Us.”
“You.”
“Shut up and kiss me some more, or there’s gonna be another storm.”
“Yes, dear.”
The kiss started slow and built in intensity, the way kisses with him usually did. She had wrapped her arm around his neck to keep him there when the door swung open, and Scotty let out a protracted groan.
“Seriously? Even in the hospital?”