Chapter 20
Roarke
G avin knocked on the door at the nearest health clinic and raised his brows. “Is your arm still attached?”
I flipped him off. “Funny.”
He entered, eyeing the bandages wrapped around my upper arm.
“Eh, I’m just trying to make light of the situation.”
I nodded, running a hand over my face. “I know. I know.” And I wasn’t upset that he was mildly poking fun at my injury. A couple of hours ago, a section of wire popped free and sliced me. The sharp edges of the metal didn’t go easy on me. Twin long, and surprisingly deep, gashes marred my skin. I was glad Gavin was there at the time because without him, I would’ve dismissed it for longer, thinking the wetness on my shirt sleeve was sweat, not blood.
These sorts of things happened, and normally, no medical attention was needed. In the worst-case scenario, one of the other guys could slap a Band-Aid on a spot that couldn’t be reached.
It wasn’t an insect sting that I felt when it happened. It was a damn pair of cuts that bled enough that we figured I’d get stitched up. Compressing it didn’t help, so here we were, hours later, waiting for me to get discharged from the urgent care location. Twelve stitches on the top cut, and five on the deepest part of the lower one.
“I’ll have to think of a story to explain all the blood in the truck now, though,” Gavin joked.
I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“No. And it’s vinyl.” He chuckled. “It’ll clean up.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting for so long,” I said. Like most things, service was slow. My problem wasn’t life-or-death, either, so it wasn’t worrying me that I was still here, waiting to be discharged.
“About that.” He smiled. “While I was out in the waiting room, the neighbor said she’d watch the kids while one of Wendy’s friends drove her out to the ranch to get your truck. She brought it here, so I can take her home now.”
“Hey, thanks. I appreciate that.” It was good people like Gavin and Wendy who made these small towns worthwhile.
“You will be cleared to drive, won’t you?” He smirked.
I narrowed my eyes. “Yes, I will.”
“I dunno. Last time I came in here to check if you were still alive, that nurse seemed awfully determined to take you home herself.”
“Yeah. To her home.” I shook my head at the mention of the overly flirty nurse. “Not happening.”
“Not your type?”
I shook my head. Too pushy.
“Hmm.” He didn’t stop grinning, having too much fun. “I don’t know. Having a hot nurse around wouldn’t be such a bad thing... Wendy and I—”
“All right. All right.” I waved him on. Hearing him talk about shit he did with his wife never got too graphic. He didn’t offer many details anyway, but lately, hearing him talk about her at all made me feel slightly jealous.
I was supposed to have had that. Veronica was supposed to be my wife. My partner. An ally. It didn’t matter that three years had passed, I mourned the loss of just having someone.
But I never did. She was never all in.
“You’re sure I’m okay to take off then?” Gavin tossed my keys at me, and I caught them without moving my bandaged and stitched arm.
“Yeah. Thanks again. I owe you one.”
He waved, dismissing me and headed out.
Once he was gone, my nurse came back in.
“I’m off in about forty-five minutes. Time will fly though, big boy. And then I can help you get off.” She waggled her brows.
“Oh hell...” I groaned, hanging my head. There was promiscuous and eager then there was this.
“Sounds good, huh?”
I lifted my head. “No. I just want to leave.”
“But—”
“No,” I repeated, firmer and louder.
She wasn’t ugly one bit. Her enthusiasm and pathetic lines might have been funny in other circumstances. But it wasn’t right now. I didn’t want her attention.
The only woman whose attention I wanted was Heather. I craved her talking to me. Her looking at me like she wanted to devour me. Her being next to me and reminding me what it felt like to simply sleep with someone.
Fuck. What happened to not wanting any damn drama?
Rejecting the nurse seemed to speed up my discharge process, and within five minutes, I was walking out to my truck and wondering how I could be failing my goal of not going after a woman.
Heather is how. Heather is why.
I wanted to believe that slowly but surely, she was warming up to me. Talking to her outside her cabin wasn’t that bad. I left knowing I’d ultimately pushed her too far, too greedy to want to know why she was back in town, but I didn’t think that she’d fallen back to outright hating me.
She was guarded, but maybe that could change. No matter what, I’d shared enough. I’d shown that I was interested in the basic level of talking with her. If anything could happen next, it would have to be from her initiative. There was a clear line between approaching a woman and preying on her. I wouldn’t chase her if she truly wasn’t receptive to attention. I wasn’t born an asshole like that.
She has to make a move.
I got in my truck and snorted at myself. What was I saying? Making moves?
Neither of us should be making moves at all. Not with each other. We were mutually defensive, not ready for anything of a relationship, but that connection lingered. I’d felt that draw to her even when I left her at her cabin.
I still didn’t have her story, though, and that was what made it easier to retreat, to let her come to me and open up if she wanted to. Until I knew why she was so combative with me, why she was so grumpy in general, I wouldn’t be able to decide if her brand of trouble or drama was something I could tolerate. Everyone had skeletons in their closets, but what was hers?
I was too intrigued to know more, and it wasn’t just because of that kiss. Her stubbornness was a hell of a turn-on. Her scrappiness was admirable.
“Fuck me. I shouldn’t even be thinking about her at all,” I complained out loud in my truck as I turned away from the urgent care clinic.
Driving in the direction of the ranch, I passed through town. I wouldn’t admit to slowing down and glancing toward the bank. I wouldn’t confess that I was checking if she was off work or already gone.
She wasn’t mine to watch for. She wasn’t mine to claim or be hung up on. But still, this need to see her, this increasing sense of missing her didn’t abate.
Oddly, I saw her car not far from town. It appeared that she was off work. She’d left her usual parking spot near the bank, but I didn’t understand why she was stopped here . On the side of the road, where it didn’t seem like Main Street but more of the wider highway-like country road that led to the ranch.
She’d been on her way out of town. That was clear. But why the hell was there a police cruiser parked behind her?
“What’s this about?”
I stopped, parking my truck behind the cruiser. Something to do with the law was a sign of drama. Having a cop involved was a display of trouble. I didn’t want to welcome either of those in my life. I deserved my peace, but this gnawing pull to be close to Heather and care kept me there.
After I got out and walked up to Marty, who stood at Heather’s open window, I caught a bit of what he was saying.
“I understand, but my radar said you were going eighteen over the limit.”
Damn. What was your hurry?
I chewed on my lower lip, ready to butt in and see if I couldn’t get her out of a speeding ticket.
Not because I wanted to earn her approval.
But because I didn’t want to see her suffering any further. She had been hurt. I knew she had to have been. Perhaps she was so quiet about herself out of self-preservation. Maybe she’d faced hell in Chicago, something similar to what I dealt with in marrying then divorcing Veronica.
It didn’t matter.
If I could help... I damn well would, regardless if we’d both cave to our goals of not getting involved with anyone.