Wren didn’t budge. “I can get my own ride home. I’m not a charity case.”
Lee opened his mouth to argue that, as a patient in a charity hospital, she, indeed, was a charity case, but he thought better of it.
“Of course not, but I’m not walking away. Hippocratic Oath. First, do no harm.” Lee well knew the oath didn’t read this way, but admitting that wouldn’t help his cause. “Leaving you on this bench for another thirty minutes while you wait on a ride would harm you.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “How so?”
Sassy. Everything about her was sassy. The look in her eyes. The tone of her voice. Even her haircut. It wasn’t long or short, but with its shag of blue on black that just touched her shoulders, it had plenty of sass.
“Apart from increasing your soreness, the temperature is dropping, and you aren’t wearing a jacket,” Lee said, glad that his years in high school debate served some purpose. “Surgery is stressful, and your immune system is compromised. You shouldn’t be out in the cold.”
It was early April in South Louisiana. It was hardly cold, but Lee wasn’t going to give any ground. The air was chilly, and the bench was hard, and he wasn’t leaving her.
Wren must have sensed his determination because she rolled her eyes again.
“Fine.” She took his hand and let him help her stand.
“Smart girl.” He meant for her to smile, but she blanched as she got to her feet. Too late, he realized he probably should have walked to his car and driven it around to pick her up. Her progress was slow, and she stooped as she walked. Lee knew her discomfort was normal, but he still felt bad for her.
They reached the passenger side of his Jeep, and he opened the door. Wren reached up and was about to hoist herself inside when he stopped her.
“That’s going to hurt. Let me give you a hand.” Before she could object, he scooped her into his arms. He felt her go rigid before he settled her onto the passenger seat.
“Um… that wasn’t necessary,” she muttered, smoothing out her black skirt and avoiding his eyes.
With a jolt, he remembered her reluctance to be examined. He stepped back at once.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine,” she said, giving a terse shake of her head and reaching back for her seatbelt.
Lee watched her for a moment, unsure if he should say more, but he decided against it and made his way to the driver’s side. Even as he cursed his stupidity, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling of lifting her up. She’d weighed almost nothing.
“Where do you live?” he asked, climbing into the driver’s seat.
“On St. Vincent.”
Lee started his Jeep and frowned. “Is that in the Saint Streets?”
“Yeah, a block off St. Julien.”
“I live in the Saint Streets, too. I’ve just never seen St. Vincent.”
“It’s a tiny street. Almost directly behind Izzo’s.” But she eyed him with skepticism. “You live in the Saint Streets?”
He nodded, navigating his way out of the parking lot. “Yeah, on Dunreath. I love it there.”
Her mouth made anO,but she didn’t say anything.
“What doesthatmean?” he asked, unable to help himself.
She shrugged. “Nothing. That just makes more sense.”
Lee guessed that he knew what she meant, and the idea chafed. He wanted to make her say it aloud so he could tell her she was wrong. “What makes more sense?”
Wren’s left brow, the one with the small hoop, arched. “The fact that we live in the same neighborhood. Not too many doctors live in the Saint Streets,” she said, eyeing him up and down. “But the houses on Dunreath are pretty nice — in aSouthern Livingkinda way.”
Lee cocked his head back and gave a surprised laugh. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it sort of sounds like you’re judging me.”
