Chapter 6 #2
“My left ankle hurts when I put weight on my leg,” Mari reported.
Nima’s gaze flicked to her sock-covered foot. “I’m so sorry, Mari. Hopefully, it’s not serious.”
“The radiologist will need to review the images,” Margie said as she rifled through a drawer with folded fabric.
“Unless there are major issues that would require us sending you to the hospital in Anchorage, you can go home after this.” She held up a pair of blue scrubs.
“These might be easier to pull on than the clothes you came in with.” As Margie patted her on the arm, a voice called a code over the intercom.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes. The ambulance has just arrived. ”
Margie retreated, leaving Mari sitting in a wheelchair. Her short hospital gown suddenly seemed very inadequate now that she was alone again with Nima.
He moved to her side. “Do you want me to lift you back onto the bed?”
“Yes, please. It might be easier to dress on the bed than to maneuver in the wheelchair. I’ll change behind the curtain.”
“Of course,” Nima said, bending down to pick her up.
She wrapped her hand over his shoulder for support, and he scooped her into his arms. The whole bottom half of her gown flapped open as Nima stood, leaving him gripping her bare thigh.
Talk about feeling exposed while not at her best. She still had spruce needles falling out of her hair.
But if Nima noticed, he didn’t give any indication.
He simply strode the few steps to the bed and gently lowered her onto it.
Then he turned and retrieved the scrubs Margie had provided and handed them to her.
“I’ll be on the other side of the curtain if you need me.
” And with that, Nima pulled the fabric closed, giving Mari privacy.
Mari began picking at her gown ties as Nima asked, “Is your pain better?”
The knot gave, and her gown flapped open. “Yes, much better. But I still feel like a truck hit me.”
He huffed a laugh. “Not an oversized wanna-be, Christmas tree?”
Mari fought a chuckle as well as she pressed a hand to her side. “Don’t make jokes. My ribs are too sore for laughing.” She managed to pull the scrub top on and down over the elastic bandage wrapped around her chest.
“No jokes. Got it.” His voice sounded warm, as if he were smiling. She smiled too. “A lot happened while you were in the X-ray lab,” he continued. “I successfully removed all the sap from my hands. Margie was right. It stung like I’d squeezed a lemon into a million tiny paper cuts.”
Amused at his comparison, Mari shook out the scrub bottoms. “Brave of you,” she said playfully as she eyed her feet. They felt miles away from her hands. “You deserve a lollipop—if the clinic still gives those out for no tears.”
“I didn’t say there weren’t tears,” Nima countered with humor in his voice, and Mari couldn’t help but grin again.
She’d missed this type of back and forth with her ex.
She’d never experienced such easy banter with anyone else.
“Also, Andy helped Tseten retrieve my tool bag and truck.” It sounded like Nima jangled a set of keys on the other side of the curtain.
“We have wheels, and I can take you home, if that’s what Margie recommends. ”
“Great, thank you,” Mari managed before letting out a grunt as she struggled to pull on her pants.
Pain radiated across her chest when she flexed her abdominal muscles.
Out of breath from her meager efforts, she wanted to flop back on the bed, but that would hurt too much.
Using her arms to support herself, she slowly lay back and gazed up at a poster of a smiling chimpanzee on the ceiling.
They must use the room for pediatric patients.
However, it brought to mind the Grinch decorations and movie, which made her think about how long she’d known Nima.
Having him help her now would be no big deal.
She pushed her earlier orgasm to the back of her mind as she said, “Hey Nima . . .?”
“Uh oh. Is everything okay?” His voice came from just on the other side of the curtain.
She bit her lip, then asked, “Can you please help me put on my pants?”
He at least had the courtesy not to laugh at her. “Does it hurt to bend forward? I’ve bruised ribs before, and it wasn’t fun. I can help. Let me know when you’re ready.”
His admission alarmed her. When and how had he become injured? The only incident Tseten and her friends had mentioned had been a close call last fire season. She wanted to quiz Nima. But that kind of interrogation might shatter their fragile truce. It wasn’t her business.
Instead, Mari glanced down at herself from her prone position, trying to imagine how Nima would see her. “I’m ready. Just . . . don’t look at my underwear. Or judge. My body is a lot different from the last time you saw me.”
The curtain fluttered, then Nima appeared. She handed him her pants, and he quickly had her feet in each pant leg. His eyes stayed on hers as they worked together to shimmy them up and over her hips.
But once clothed, Nima leaned in, sliding his large, azure hand to her hip. Her heart thundered as his aqua-blue gaze bore into her, his oversized canines looking both ominous and sexy as he loomed above her. Her suddenly quick breaths came even quicker.
“I didn’t peek,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “But I’ve already judged.” His fingers squeezed, gripping her in a delightful, possessive way. “When you pressed your backside into me earlier tonight, you felt how hard I got for you. That’s how much I like the changes to your body.”
His gaze slid to her ear, and he slowly traced her piercings with the pad of his thumb. “And these are fucking sexy, Mari. Just like I knew they’d be.”
Thankfully, Margie hadn’t connected Mari to a heart rate monitor. Her pulse spike would have set off alarms—especially when Nima’s nostrils flared. He smelled her arousal. This confident, sexy, thirty-something side of Nima was new, and Mari liked it. She liked it a lot.
The door rattled a moment later, and Margie flew in.
“Everyone decent?” She asked, not waiting for a response before she whipped back the curtain.
She didn’t even glance at Mari or Nima as she tapped away at her laptop.
And a good thing too. While Nima looked unruffled, Mari had no doubt turned as red as Rudolph’s nose.
“Good news,” Margie said. “No fractures.” She went over a list of things Mari needed to do, including icing, resting, elevating her ankle, and keeping her ribs wrapped.
“And,” she said, patting a big plastic contraption on the counter next to her, “I’d like you to wear this air cast, Mari, while you heal. ”
Margie thrust the instructions at Nima. “Make sure she doesn’t put any weight on that foot until after Christmas.”
He cocked his head, glancing down at the proffered paperwork—which he didn’t take. “I’m not—”
Margie cut him off. “Aren’t you here acting as Mari’s caregiver?”
“I am right now. But between tonight and Christmas, that’s up to Mari.”
Margie crossed her arms. “Mari, you’ll need help for a few days. It’s late. I recommend you let Nima take you home and stay with you tonight. Get a good night’s rest, then discuss your further care tomorrow.”
“I can stay with you tonight, Mari,” Nima offered. “And we’ll talk in the morning.”
Her tired, achy—and well, horny—self couldn’t argue, even if she’d wanted to.
She wasn’t foolish enough to turn down help, especially this close to the holidays and with her family out of town.
Plus, part of her celebrated. She had a unique opportunity to spend time with Nima—and she was nearly one-hundred percent sure it wasn’t just her lady bits singing fa-la-la about the situation.
She pressed her legs together, attempting to stifle further arousal, and managed a straight face as she said, “Thanks, Nima. I would appreciate that.”