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Derek looked at me, made sure that I was all right with a sweep of his eyes, and then nodded once.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll meet you down there.”
With one last stern look at the nurse who would be pushing me, he picked up the bag that had a few of my things in it, then swiftly left out the door.
I watched his butt as he left, my eyes glued to it, and wondered if there’d ever come a time when my eyes wouldn’t automatically go to it.
“Ready?”
The abrupt snap of words had me blinking in surprise.
And, of course, I tried to nod but couldn’t.
“Get in the chair,” she ordered, pointing at it.
Like the first couple of times that I’d met this particular nurse, I couldn’t help but feel as if she was in a perpetual bad mood. Though, I’d been told that she had a trying patient who was working on her nerves. And her bad attitude just happened to extend toward me.
“Yes,” I answered, walking to the chair that she was still holding on to.
She abruptly started forward despite my feet not being adequately on the supports for them, but I chose not to say anything.
Derek had noticed the nurse’s attitude and had already been more than curious as to why.
I’d just wanted to leave, so I hadn’t bothered to try to ask what the hell her problem was.
In fact, I stayed so silent the entire way down there that I felt like that had pissed her off even more.
By the time she was coming to a halt outside, I wondered if I should thank her for helping me while I was there.
But the farther she got from the floor, the better mood she seemed to be in.
“I’m sorry for being an ass,” she said stiffly. “I just… I’m working with the man that I’m currently going through a divorce with. He drives me insane.”
I scrunched up my nose and looked at her. “Tell him to go fuck himself. That always makes me feel better.”
She grinned.
Luckily, Derek was there waiting, even though we’d all but followed almost directly behind him.
His eyes took me in, then the woman behind me, and frowned.
I got up before the nurse could push me closer and walked to the passenger side of his truck.
He caught my hand and helped me up, placing one hand on my forearm and the other one on my ass.
On my ass.
“Derek,” I murmured. “This would be a lot easier if your hand wasn’t on my ass.”
He chuckled darkly as he said, “I just want to help you find the seat.”
Well, he had, because my knees had gone weak and my ass had met it a little harder than I’d expected.
His eyes took everything in as he watched me scoot into the truck, making sure I was securely in the seat before he reached and stretched the seatbelt across my lap and shoulder.
“Done,” he said. “Everything okay?”
I nodded, or again, tried to.
“This is getting old,” I muttered, touching the stupid metal contraption around my neck.
“It’ll get better,” he said.
I highly doubted it.
What I decided was that by ‘getting better’ I would ‘get more used to it’ not ‘better.’
But whatever.
Derek drove slowly on the way home, being extremely careful to take the bumps a lot softer than he would’ve normally.
“We’re gonna go to your place and gather some of your things,” he said as he shifted in his seat. “Are you hungry?”
“No,” I answered. “I’m still full from breakfast.”
He chuckled as he remembered.
Derek had brought in a pan of home-cooked cinnamon rolls his mother had made.
They’d still been warm. And gooey. And yummy.
Yum.
“Yes,” he agreed. “But eventually you’re going to get hungry again. And I don’t have any food whatsoever at my house.”
“We’ll have to take our chances,” I moaned as I moved in my seat to find a more comfortable position. “Because I’m so full I can’t even contemplate food without wanting to throw up.”
He chuckled as he turned onto the road that would lead to my place.
My breath caught the moment that I saw it.
“Nice,” I breathed.
“Kids have been doing this for the last three nights,” he murmured. “I was going to tell you but…”
“But why worry me when I just nearly had my neck broken,” I finished for him.
He sighed. “Exactly.”
My yard was a fucking mess.
The trees were half covered with toilet paper, and there were three men currently trying to clean it up.
“Who are they?” I asked softly, unable to identify them from so far away.
“The one in the tree is Adam. The one underneath the tree picking out the forks is Hayes. Booth is the one chasing the toddler around,” Derek answered.
I grinned as I saw the little boy that looked exactly like his dad.
When I’d taken his photo for the calendar, he’d talked about his son. But I hadn’t realized just how cute he’d be.
