17. Claire
CHAPTER 17
Claire
T he elevator dinged, and I maneuvered through the doors ahead of Ozzie, crutches creaking as I went. Much to my dismay, he’d been right to haul me in for an x-ray. The test revealed a fracture to the bottom of my fibula.
My foot was already hot inside the black boot the doctor stuck me in.
Agitation spurred me on, making me clumsy, and I caught the tip of one crutch on the gap in the floor. Stumbling forward, I landed hard on my booted foot. Pain rocketed up my leg, turning my muscles to mush, and I sagged, the ground rushing up to meet me.
A strong arm snatched my waist, and hauled me back, keeping me from crashing to the floor.
“Whoa. You okay?”
Ozzie’s warm, firm chest at my back wasn’t helping my equilibrium. I looked like something a rat dragged through the sewer; my hair was a tangled mess, tendrils plastered to my face from sweat. Splotches dotted my makeup-free skin from a combination of anger, pain meds, and the cold.
And I smelled too. Like dirt and body odor. I wanted a shower, some food, and some sleep. In that order.
“I’m fine.” I straightened, getting my crutches under me again, and limped my way toward my hotel room. My leg was on fire now, thanks to my little misstep, but I hoped once I got off of it, it would settle back to the dull roar the pain meds had reduced it to earlier.
“You should have taken Christina up on her offer. No elevators at her house.”
Maybe not, but I didn’t want to be fussed over. I loved Christina. She was wonderful. But she and her daughters would have smothered me with attention. I really just wanted to lie in bed and be left alone.
So, I trudged forward to my room and shoved the keycard into the slot and pushed the door open.
“Thanks for walking me back. I’ll be good?—”
“I’m not leaving,” Ozzie interrupted. “Not yet, anyway.”
A deep scowl formed on my face as I stared at him. “Detective?—”
Again, he interrupted me, stepping into my personal space.
“One day, I’ll get you to stop calling me ‘Detective.’”
I blew a long breath through my nose and closed my eyes, hanging my head. “Oscar, I’m tired.”
“I know.”
The compassion in his voice brought my gaze back to his. It shimmered in his dark eyes and in the soft, kind smile toying with his lush lips.
“Do you think you can handle a shower on your own?”
“Yes.” Even if I didn’t, there was no way I was inviting him in to help me. I would want so much more than his assistance undressing and dressing if he came into the bathroom with me.
Just the thought of what his hands would feel like removing my clothes sent coils of heat snaking through my belly.
That was not an option, even if I weren’t nursing a broken leg. He hadn’t made a single pass at me, and I was not about to put myself on the line like that. More than likely, he’d reject me, and I did not want to suffer that embarrassment.
I turned away, limping over to my suitcase to get some clean underwear and my pajamas.
“Give me your keycard. I’ll go get you some dinner while you shower.”
“I can call the front desk. I’m sure someone would run across the street to the diner and get me a burger.” I glanced over to see him holding out a hand.
“Yep, but I can, too, and you don’t have to tip me. Besides, I’m hungry as well.” He rubbed his fingers together. “Keycard, Claire.”
I held his gaze with a glower for a moment longer before finally relinquishing. He wasn’t giving up, and I was too tired and hungry to fight. I passed him the card.
“Thank you.” Smiling, he turned and headed for the door. “Leave the bathroom door unlocked.” He glanced back. “Just in case.”
Then he was gone.
“Just in case,” I mocked as the door closed.
Rolling my eyes, I chucked one crutch onto the bed, then shuffled to the bathroom, clothes clutched in my free hand. The doctor said I could bear weight on my leg, but to use the crutches to help take off some of the pressure. It was easier with one. When I got home, I’d have to look into getting a cane.
Steam filled the bathroom as I turned the water on as hot as it would go. I pulled a deep breath into my lungs and tried to center my mind. I was being petty and ungrateful. He was just trying to help. And being squirrely wouldn’t change my situation. I needed to accept it and move on. The boot was my friend for several weeks.
Except for the next few minutes.
I sat down on the edge of the tub and unfastened the Velcro straps, toeing it off with my other foot. Cooler air hit my sweaty flesh. With a grimace, I wiggled my toes.
That wasn’t too terrible. It sure did look pretty, though. The outside of my ankle was a mottled purple with red around the edges and a decent amount of swelling.
“Stupid moose,” I mumbled under my breath.
It could be worse, though. The hoof that crashed to the ground near my head could have hit its mark and bashed my face.
Removing my clothes, I spun around and eased into the tub, using the grab bars to stand. It was a delicate balancing act, but I managed to wash my hair and body without falling over or sending the shooting pain through my leg again.
Once I was squeaky clean and my skin lobster red, I stayed an extra minute, then shut the water off. Using the bars once again to lower myself to the edge of the tub, I climbed out and pulled a towel from the bar to dry off. Once my skin was dry, I used the towel to squeeze excess water out of my long hair. From my perch on the side of the bathtub, I wiggled into my underwear, then pulled the loose t-shirt I slept in over my head.
Making sure my right leg was firmly planted on the tile floor, I stood and grabbed my boot and my crutch, slowly limping back to the bedroom. Ozzie sat in the desk chair, getting up when he saw me hobbling out.
“You’re supposed to wear that and use both crutches.” He pointed to the boot in my hand.
“Yeah, well, I’m still damp and this thing gets sweaty even when I’m dry.” I wished I had the other crutch, though. Walking without the boot hurt more than I thought it would.
Eyes on the bed—my goal—I didn’t realize Ozzie’s intentions until his arms were around my waist and my feet left the ground.
Startled, my gaze connected with his. This close, I could see the lighter brown flecks in his dark eyes.
His steps faltered a few feet from the bed, and he stopped, but didn’t put me down.
My mushy insides returned. The hands I’d laid on his shoulders to steady myself drifted toward his neck, my fingers inching into the nearly black hair at the back of his head.
His lips parted on a quick intake of breath.
Mine tingled, wanting to taste him.
If he didn’t put me down in the next couple of seconds, that was going to happen.
Naturally, I didn’t say anything.
What woman would when in the arms of a man like Ozzie?
I pushed my hands deeper into the silky strands of his hair.
His jaw worked. “Claire.”
“Hmm?”
“This is… it’s not a good idea.”
“Probably not.” But that didn’t stop me from bringing my hands forward to frame his face. My earlier admonition to myself floated through my mind, but I pushed it away. This didn’t count. He wanted to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss him. I could see it in his eyes. No embarrassment happening here.
Beard stubble rasped beneath my fingers. I leaned in, pausing so close our breaths mingled.
With a pained groan, he closed the gap.
Lightning flashed behind my eyes at the first touch of his mouth on mine. It pierced through me in an instant, leaving me humming from the ends of my hair to the tips of my toes.
He pulled back. Those lovely dark eyes had turned midnight black.
For several heated seconds, he just stared. I could see the debate going on in his mind. The same one warred within me.
Was this wise?
I didn’t know much about police investigations, but it had to mean something that I was involved in his case. It was probably a no-no for us to get involved.
At least I wasn’t a direct witness to Marie’s murder. That would definitely be frowned upon.
So, I pushed my misgivings aside and reveled in the fact that the man who looked like he should be on a billboard, modeling the latest underwear fashions, found me attractive.
With a slow, provocative smile, I threaded my fingers into his hair again and gripped the strands, leaning in for another taste of his delectable lips.
It was the catalyst he needed.
The arms banded around my waist shifted, one going beneath my butt to hold me up, and the other snaking up my back to grip my neck.
He deepened our kiss, diving into my mouth for a taste.
Not about to be outdone, I responded in kind, tasting the coffee he had at the hospital while we waited. It paired perfectly with the taste of him .
Heat built in my belly, flooding my limbs. Need pulsed throughout my body.
In the back of my mind, my sanity screamed at me. That some of what I was feeling was from the painkillers. I wasn’t normally this… uninhibited. Making the first move wasn’t my thing. Ever. Even if I could tell a man was interested.
But if I got results like this, I needed to try it more often.
Ozzie nipped at my bottom lip, sparking an electric jolt that went straight to my core.
A soft whimper escaped me. Oh, I wanted more.
The sane part of my brain broke through the lust fog again, yelling, “What are you doing? We don’t do this sort of thing! You barely know this man.”
Doubt filtered in. My rational side was right. Casual relationships weren’t my thing.
Even if the man looked like sin and could kiss like he had a Ph.D. in it.
I wrenched my mouth away, breathing heavily. “I think”—I swallowed hard, then continued—“we need to slow things down.”
Chest heaving, he nodded. With a couple of long strides, he moved to the bed and lowered me to the mattress to sit, then let go.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me.” Ozzie shoved a hand into his hair, smoothing the strands I’d mussed.
“Don’t apologize. I didn’t say I didn’t like it. Just that we need to take it down a notch.”
“You’re part of my investigation. I can’t?—”
“I’m not a witness. Not really. I didn’t see her murdered. Just found her.”
“Well, someone thinks you did.”
I frowned at the reminder of the break-in at my house the other day. “We don’t know that for sure.”
“Why else would someone break into your house? I don’t believe in coincidences, Claire.” Some of the need left his expression, replaced by the hard-edged cop.
“Well, I do. Until you can prove that’s why someone broke in, I’ll consider all possibilities.” Not wanting to argue or give him more time to think of reasons why we shouldn’t get involved, I changed the subject. “You said you were going to get me food, yes?”
For several seconds, he just gave me a hard stare. Then he blinked and blew out a breath. When his eyes opened, the edginess was gone and the more affable Ozzie had returned.
“Yeah.” He gestured to the white sack on the desk. “A burger and fries, as requested.”
Immediately, my mouth watered. Vinnie’s had the best burgers.
Ozzie crossed to the desk and took out a wrapped burger and a paper packet of fries. Bringing them to me, he set them on the nightstand, then went back for napkins and a can of soda.
“Thank you.” I sent him a sunny smile.
He nodded. “You’re welcome.” Returning to the desk, he picked up the bag and the other can of soda. “I think it’s best if I eat in my room. If you need something, call me.”
My smile dimmed. Dammit. I didn’t want him to leave. But judging by the set of his shoulders, I knew I’d never convince him to stay. “I will.”
“I’ll see you in the morning. Have a good night.”
“Goodnight.” I raised a hand in farewell, but he didn’t see it, already on his way to the door. In a blink he was gone.
I sighed, looking around the now empty room. With him gone, it was suddenly quiet.
Really quiet.
My fingers gripped the bedspread beneath me as loneliness took hold. I could really use another presence in the room to banish the heavy silence.
Swallowing hard, I flopped back on the bed.
I wished Pebbles were here.