Chapter 23
AUTUMN
“You picked the wrong girl if you thought I would take it easy on you.” I lay a yellow three-card on top of his. “I have three sisters who are cutthroat when it comes to the game of UNO. There is no slacking when card games are involved. You’re about to lose your shirt, Lieutenant.”
He slaps down the same number but blue, flipping the color scheme.
“The Season Sisters don’t scare me,” he challenges, smirking in that way that makes me want to tackle him, to claim that smirk and take the victory.
“I’ve never shied away from competition.
My mom always told us to bring our best game, or it’s not worth playing. ”
“Wise woman.”
Sliding to the edge of the couch, he leans closer to where I’m sitting on the floor. “Speaking of shirts,” he says, in a tone meant for secrets and seduction, “let’s talk about that reward you promised.”
“I thought playing UNO was the reward?” I toss a blue five-card down and bat my eyelashes. He doesn’t even know what’s coming, like an unsuspecting victim floating in an innertube in the middle of the sea, too relaxed to understand the danger moving in.
“No, this is just a game. The reward is how we play.” Oh lordy.
I drag my palm over the side of my skirt and brace myself for what’s about to come out of his mouth next.
When he waggles his eyebrows, I know I’m in trouble. Brandon loves to push me out of my comfort zone, so I can only imagine what he’s got up his short sleeve. “Every time you have to draw a card, another item of clothing comes off.”
“Strip UNO?” The pitch of my voice could be interpreted by dolphins. I’m still staring at him when I tilt my chin to my chest, trying to reason through the repercussions of this twist.
What am I wearing? I take a tally. Shirt. Skirt. Bra. Panties. Not much then.
How many times have we stated we’ve seen it all though? Many.
Still staring, I try to close my gob smacker and figure out how many items of clothes he’s wearing.
“Three.”
My eyes shoot from his shirt to his face. “What?”
“I’m only wearing three things, so you’re at an advantage, Nurse.”
I look down at my outfit. It’s not exactly hard to figure out what I’m wearing under this, but still, how confident am I about winning this game? Pretty confident. As for playing strip anything with a patient, not wise. But have Brandon and I moved beyond those roles as of today?
I’ve already zigzagged across the line between professionalism and personal so many times I’m not even sure which side I’m supposed to be on anymore.
It’s not work when I’m with him. It’s fun— and honestly, good for my soul.
It wasn’t a lie when I told him this was a great decision on my part.
Not to give me credit, but it’s snapped me out of a rut I hadn’t realized I’d fallen into.
But I know it’s not just the job that did it. It’s Brandon.
That marble statues should be carved in commemoration of this man’s attractiveness isn’t lost on me either. He’s like a two-for-one, serving up both personality and hotness.
So what’s a few articles of clothing at this stage?
I have a good body, and if it gets him shirtless and pantless when I come out the winner, that will be the cherry on top.
“But the regular game play rules still apply, right?” I only ask so as to not come off so eager.
I’m happy to get naked with him. And that would be another line crossed again.
“Same old rules apply otherwise.”
I match his smirk and ante it up a notch. “Oh, you’re definitely going to lose your shirt.”
He laughs, but it’s lackluster at best. He rolls his shoulder, reflexively reaching to rub it before catching my eyes on him.
We haven’t been home long, but I wonder how long he’s going to fight through the pain on his own.
He plasters a grin that doesn’t even fill out his mouth, much less reach his eyes.
I know it’s for me, but it fails to cover his discomfort.
“You’re not fooling me. I can see you’re in pain.
” He shifts on the couch to get more comfortable, but it’s clear he didn’t achieve the desired result.
A streak of pain he can’t hide in his eyes rivers through the lines of his forehead.
I set my cards face down because I trust no one when it comes to competition, and angle toward him.
“I was hoping you’d tell me, but you’ve not said a word about it. ”
“I was trying to fool myself.”
Glancing over at his pills on the counter, I say, “Gritting your teeth might get you through the pain temporarily, but it’s not helping anything.”
“If it gets me back to work sooner, then it’s working.”
I push to my feet, using his knee for one hand, and plant the other on the coffee table for leverage.
Standing in front of him, I swipe the tips of my fingers under his chin, holding them for just a few seconds as he looks up at me.
“I can only help you if you help me.” A boyish charm shapes his eyes, the pain gone as he looks into mine.
He holds me by the back of the legs—our relationship already feeling different, evolved in a good way.
It’s almost hard to remember I disliked him for so long.
I whisper, “Don’t hide the pain from me. ”
His touch shouldn’t feel so intimate, but standing so close that I can see his pupils widening to take me in awakens the butterflies in my tummy. Swallowing becomes thicker, and when he rubs me gently, a wave of goose bumps follows in the wake.
If he weren’t in pain, I’d kiss him. But my needs can’t come before his. “Okay?” I ask, barely audible to my own ears.
He nods, not breaking eye contact. “Okay.”
The last thing I want to do is walk away in the gravity of the moment we’re sharing, but seeing him shift his weight and stretch his neck again has me running my fingers through his hair on the side.
“Humor me and let’s do a quick checkup. Then we get to the stripping again.
” I begrudgingly pull away from him and retrieve the pills from the kitchen counter.
Exasperation sends him falling back into the cushions with a heavy sigh. “You want to play doctor, Nurse? I’ll be a good patient for you. Promise.”
I laugh, seeing hope shine in his eyes like a kid at Christmas.
“I’d rather play nurse.” Sitting next to him, I say, “Sit up for me, please.” With naughty games on the table, he doesn’t hesitate, using those hard, incredible abs to bring himself upright.
I run my fingers over his shirt and down his spine, lightly tapping and sliding them along the shallow valley under each shoulder blade. “Any pain or sensitivity?”
“No.”
“Take a deep breath for me.” He does, and I ask, “Any pain? Ribs, internally, shoulder, back?”
He exhales like he’s already bored. He’s not my worst patient, but he’s not the best either. Who can blame him? Nobody likes to be poked and prodded. “No.”
The cotton of his shirt is soft over the rough texture of the bandage. The fraying edges catch on my fingers when I run over them. A surge of guilt rushes through me. I should have been paying attention, when I was instead caught up in my own good time today.
The muscles twitch under my touch, the urge to soothe him so strong that I have to remember my job. But being this close, I can’t stop myself from whispering, “I’m sorry.”
I’m met with his striking face—eyes that give me peace, lips that are full, and that rugged jaw of his that would make other men envious—when he turns to look at me. “For what?”
“I was so caught up in the moment.” And still floating on cloud nine from that kiss on the head when it was my responsibility to take care of him.
I clear my throat when it starts to clog with remorse, and say, “I should have never let you move that heavy glass cabinet, much less alone. Did that cause more pain in your shoulder?” He’s too quiet, silently giving me the answer.
I lean in to catch his eyes. “I need you to tell me the truth, Brandon. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong. ”
“There’s some pain.”
“On a scale from one to ten. One being the most manageable.”
“A twelve or thirteen.”
Remorse riddles my stomach and makes my chest ache for him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I grab the prescription and pop the cap off. Handing him two, I say, “Take these.”
He takes them without argument, dropping his head back and chasing them with water. Setting the glass on the coffee table, he shrugs. “I didn’t tell you because we were having a good day. Why ruin it?”
“You’re not ruining anything. I want you to get better and come back stronger, but we have to work as a team.
” I shift to the coffee table, our knees tangling as I reach to caress his cheek.
The spikey scruff doesn’t bother me, and the clearing in his brown eyes gives me empathy I don’t deserve. “I care about you.”
Cupping my face, he holds me until I’m staring him square in the eyes. I don’t dare blink in fear I’ll miss something important. “You are not responsible for me, Autumn. I—”
“I am. That’s literally why I’m here.”
“Be honest with me. That’s not why you’re here.
Not the only reason.” I hold his every word like gospel as my gaze searches his eyes.
My breathing deepens, an urge I shouldn’t be feeling for him at this moment pulses between my legs, and my throat dries thinking about the possibility of what’s to come.
He leans forward, his lips coming so close to mine but teasing to a stop just shy of kissing them.
“You’re here because you’re feeling what I am. ”
“What are we feeling?” My voice is weak, my body craving his touch as much as my lips want that kiss.