2. Olive #2
“Pretty dang high,” I shot back. He was wearing down my tough-girl act fast, but I’d keep pretending as long as I could. “You’re not the only single man on the mountain, Holden.”
“I guess not. You must have your eye on one of those lucky men, huh?”
The smile slipped off my lips. “Maybe not. Maybe I just don’t date anymore.”
He studied my face, reading something on it that I wasn’t sure I wanted him to see. “I get it. I’m just goofing off, hon. Sorry if I came on too strong, Olive. I was just trying to make light of a tough situation.”
I almost felt bad. But not bad enough to get tangled up in trouble with him.
The truth was, Holden probably acted like this with every woman he met. He was the type who’d even flirt with a grandma. I was sure of it.
A man like him, well, he’d be just as bad as Chad. My heart twinged as I slammed it shut.
“So tell me the truth, Olive. Is my hand going to be all right? I don’t want to miss any work over this.”
I snorted. “You’re going to miss some work, Big Boy.”
“Naw,” he groaned. “Tell me it’s not true. Can’t you fudge the doctor’s note for me a little bit?”
Was he serious right now?
“Press on the gauze for me, Holden.”
He took over applying pressure while I got up and shuffled through the drawers until I found the Dermabond.
Then I checked on the bleeding.
Damn.
It wasn’t gushing anymore, but it was still bleeding too heavily. I took over again, holding the bandages in place and pressing harder than before.
“Ow!”
“So the man can feel pain. I was starting to think you were invincible.”
I could see the pain in his eyes right now. That big, cocky grin was still in place, but there was tension in it, and he was working hard to hold it together.
“Tell me where you’re from, Holden. You didn’t grow up around here. You don’t have the drawl.”
“I’m from a little town in Montana.”
“Long way from home.”
His eyes shaded over. “Not a lot of work out that way.”
“And there is on Red Oak Mountain?”
“There is at the logging camp. I moved here to work for the Harrison Brothers.”
My heart beat faster. That was the same camp my sister’s fiancée had worked at until recently.
“They’re good people,” I murmured.
“Yeah.”
“You always been a lumberjack?”
He shifted on the exam table as I increased the pressure. “Yup. I’ve worked at logging camps all over the northwestern part of the country. Montana, Idaho, Washington, Oregon. I even worked in South Dakota for a while.”
That told me everything I needed to know.
“So you’re a traveling man.”
It was the first time I saw his grin slip. “Naw. I’m looking to settle down here.”
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”
“Do I need a reason? I like it here. Nice trees. Nice camp. Nice town.”
“Nice view?”
He chuckled and looked away. “Yeah. Nice view.”
Then he turned the tables on me. “What about you? You always been a bossy nurse?”
“It’s what I dreamed of growing up. And here I am doing it. Just wait until you come in for your prostate exam.”
His eyes went wide. “You’re not a sweetheart at all, are you, Olive? I promise you one thing, hon. I’m not letting you anywhere near my ass.”
I burst out laughing. The phone was ringing off the hook out in the lobby, but there was nowhere else I wanted to be right now than with this crazy, charming lumberjack.
Pulling the gauze back, I inspected the wound on his hand again. The bleeding had finally stopped. It was a nasty gash, but he’d survive.
“Your butt’s safe for today. I tell you what, Big Guy. It’s stopped bleeding, so I’m going to glue it shut now. It’ll heal faster, and you won’t have to worry about pulling any sutures out when you inevitably go back to wrestling trees before you’re supposed to.”
Holden chuckled. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?”
“I know your type,” I said dryly.
I carefully applied the skin adhesive, pinching the edges of the cut together until it set.
“My type?” he challenged softly.
“Stubborn,” I met his eyes with a stubborn look of my own.
He looked like I’d just offered to give him a blow job. I swear he made every minute we spent in this exam room feel like a courting ritual. He was one of those peacock types, showing off his fancy plumage. And I might have been falling for his sweetie-pie act just a little bit.
Once the glue was dry, I grabbed a stack of clean cotton squares to pad the wound.
The clean white gauze stood out against his dirty, grease-stained skin, a harsh contrast between my sterile world and his rugged one.
I wrapped his hand tightly with medical tape, making sure the dressing was secure but wouldn’t cut off his circulation.
“There,” I said, finally letting go of his hand. I immediately missed the heat of it. “You’re all set.”
Holden flexed his fingers experimentally, testing the bandage. “Good as new. Thanks, Doc.”
“Nurse,” I corrected him. “And you aren’t good as new. You need to keep that clean and dry for at least a week. No wood chopping for you. You hear me?”
“I work in the woods, Olive. Clean and dry isn’t exactly in the job description.”
“Then figure it out,” I told him sternly as I stood up and wrote a note restricting him from work for seven days.
“Put a glove over it. Don’t use that hand for heavy lifting for at least a week.
If you bust that glue open, you’re going to end up back here, and next time I’ll make Doc Hansen stitch it up just to teach you a lesson. He’s not nearly as cute as me.”
Holden hopped down from the exam table and stood close, towering over me.
I had to tilt my head back to look at his face, my breath catching slightly in my throat.
He didn’t have his cocky grin in place anymore. His expression had softened, his eyes tracking over my features like he was memorizing them.
“I’ll be careful,” he promised, his voice a low rumble that settled right in the bottom of my stomach. “But I might not be able to take that time off work.”
“You have to. You could injure it worse if you don’t let it heal.”
I should have led him out to the waiting room to settle up, but I was completely rooted to the spot.
This man was trouble wrapped in sawdust. And I wanted a piece of him so bad I could have locked the front door and jumped on the exam table.
But that was crazy talk.
“You need to come back,” I blurted out before I could stop myself.
Holden raised an eyebrow. “Is that right?”
I cleared my throat, forcing my professional mask back into place. “Yes. For bandage checks. I need to make sure the Dermabond is holding, and that it doesn’t get infected.”
It was a completely reasonable medical request.
But it was also a total lie.
He could check his own bandage. He didn’t need to come all the way to the clinic just to show me his hand.
Holden’s cocky grin returned, and he leaned in just a fraction of an inch.
“When do you want me back?” he growled.
“Tomorrow,” I said quickly, knocking the breathless sound out of my voice. I grabbed my clipboard and stepped back toward the door to put some distance between us.
“Yes, ma’am,” he rumbled as his lips twitched in amusement.
Could he see that he’d gotten under my skin? My cheeks were flushed, my nipples hard, and it felt like there was a swimming pool between my thighs. I was drenched for this man.
He glanced down at the blood-spattered floor. “You want me to mop up my mess?”
“No. I’ve got it.” That was sweet of him to offer, though. Not everyone would have.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Olive,” he said as he filled out the check-out paperwork.
Then he strolled past me toward the exit.
Before he left, he paused at the door, glancing back over his broad shoulder until he caught my gaze, his eyes smoldering with hunger as he drank me up.
The man made me feel like a sexpot, instead of an overworked, dumpy nurse in scrubs.
Behind me, the phone kept ringing, but I couldn’t tear my eyes off him.
I stood there, clutching my clipboard tightly to my chest, watching until the door swung shut behind him.
Well, damn.
That man could make a nun blush.