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“You might be right.”
“I am right.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and squeezed. “And if you hadn’t been around to protect me, I’d be in big trouble right now...or dead.”
A knot twisted in his gut, and he pulled her close again, inhaling the musky scent of morning sex that clung to her body. His own body responded, and he took a step back so she couldn’t feel his erection. He cleared his throat. “When are you getting that window fixed?”
Her gaze dropped to his crotch as a smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. “I’ll call someone today to fix that... The window, I mean.”
“You have a dirty mind, Ms. Duvall.” He pinched her chin between his thumb and the side of his forefinger.
“You have no idea, Captain McVie.” She patted his backside before spinning around. “But unless you plan to use what you’re packing there, we need to get ready to go to the hospital.”
“Towels?”
As she reached the bedroom door, she looked over her shoulder. “That was a fast recovery. Should I be insulted?”
“Even the thought of a cold shower will do that to a guy, so no.”
“Clean towels and everything else you’ll need are in the bathroom.”
She swept out of the room, and he said to the closed door, “Not everything I need.”
* * *
LATER AS HE sat beside Hailey in the Jag, he turned toward her. “Do you think Ayala will be able to make it to the fund-raiser?”
“If she doesn’t have any lasting effects from the poison, she should be okay, but I don’t know if she’ll want to attend now. Why would she want to broaden that target on her back, especially once she hears what happened last night?”
“She didn’t seem that enthusiastic in the first place.”
“Yeah, she’s shy and definitely doesn’t like to brag about her efforts.”
“I got that. Didn’t seem interested in talking about the refugee center at all. Most of the time, people who do work that’s close to their hearts like that can’t stop talking about it.”
“Ayala’s reserved.” She swung into the passenger loading area on the side of the large hospital’s emergency entrance. “I think we can leave the car here as long as we’re picking up a patient.”
“And if we can’t, you can always drop your father’s name.”
She threw the car into Park and pointed a finger at him. “I’m gonna take that as a joke, McVie.”
“I’m only half joking. I’m getting accustomed to the perks afforded by Ray Duvall.”
She snorted and exited the car.
The parking attendant tucked a ticket beneath the windshield wiper of the Jag, and Joe took Hailey’s arm as they walked into the cavernous hospital.
They passed the emergency waiting room, and a man called out to Hailey.
Joe’s protective instincts flared, but before he could embarrass himself again by taking down one of Hailey’s friends, Hailey waved to the man.
“Patrick, how’s it going?”
“Great.” Patrick walked toward them, a slight limp hindering his gait. He gave Hailey a hug, and a different kind of instinct flared in Joe’s gut.
Hailey pulled away first and gestured toward Joe. “Patrick, this is my friend Joe. Joe, Patrick.”
As he shook Patrick’s hand, Joe childishly applied more pressure than necessary. What made it worse was that Patrick’s eyes twinkled, reading him like a cheap paperback novel.
Hailey touched Patrick’s arm. “I hope you’re not here for yourself.”
“Naw—” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder “—one of the guys took a fall this morning.”
Joe gazed over Patrick’s shoulder at a transient, holding his head in his hands.
Hailey followed Joe’s line of sight. “Patrick runs a homeless shelter in the Mission District.”
“Mission Hope.” Patrick jingled a large key chain in his hand. “Hailey’s foundation has contributed a lot of money to our cause.”
As usual, Hailey brushed off the praise. “Tax deduction.”
Patrick’s keys fell out of his hands, and Joe stooped to retrieve them. “Let me.”
