Page 24 of Lay Down the Law

“You can ice it when you get home. Headache?”

“No.” Then she looked at Nick and frowned. “You’re not going to give me a headache over this, are you, Chief?”

The doctor shot an amused look at Nick. “She’s all yours, Chief Ryan. No restrictions other than for her to take the afternoon off. She can take over-the-counter medication for pain. Call me if she experiences blurred vision or confusion.”

“Thanks, Doc,” she muttered.

Nick watched him walk away, then turned his attention back to Erin. “You know, McNeal, I didn’t think even you could get into trouble working the school crosswalk.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but the guy in the sedan didn’t give me much choice.” She sat up straighter.

Nick squelched the urge to reach out to her when she winced. “I guess not.”

She glared at him. “This wasn’t my fault.”

“I didn’t say it was.”

“You were thinking it.”

“Why don’t you stop trying to figure out what I’m thinking and concentrate on uncrossing your eyes, so we can get out of here?”

“Careful, or you’re going to say something nice and throw me into a tailspin.” She touched the bandage on her temple. “Did you catch the guy?”

“No.” He frowned, hating the pale cast to her lips and the shadows beneath her eyes. “A couple of witnesses saw the car. A dark sedan with Illinois plates. That’s all I’ve got. Do you feel up to answering a few questions?”

“Of course I do.” Grimacing, she swung her legs over the side of the gurney. “Ouch.”

Nick reached for her when she swayed, his fingers closing around her biceps. “I can’t believe you lied to the doc about being dizzy.”

“I’m not dizzy.”

“If I hadn’t been standing here you would have taken a dive right off that gurney.”

“Would not.”

“Damn, you’re stubborn.” Keenly aware of the soft flesh beneath his fingers, and the clean scent of her hair wreaking havoc on his concentration, he stepped back. “Ah, McNeal, what am I going to do with you?”

“Just don’t yell at me. I do have a headache, and if you start yelling it’s only going to get worse.”

Nick didn’t want to look into her eyes. He didn’t want to see the vulnerability; he didn’t like the way it made him feel. But he knew eye contact was inevitable. Once their gazes met, he couldn’t look away. “Gladys Delaney wanted me to thank you for saving her daughter’s life.”

“The little girl in the pink sweater,” Erin murmured.

“You got her out of the way just in time. Half the town saw you do it.”

Erin looked away, made a show of scraping a speck of dirt from her trousers. “I’m glad she’s all right.”

Nick wondered why she found it difficult to accept praise. Some sixth sense told him now wasn’t the time to pursue it, but he would eventually. “Get dressed, and I’ll take you home.”

She glanced down at her hospital gown, looking flustered for a moment. “Uh…my shirt is behind you, on the chair.”

Turning, he spotted the shirt, lifted it from the chair and found himself staring at her bra. Terrific. Carefully lifting the bit of lace, he handed the shirt and bra to her. “Here you go.”

“Thanks. Turn around a second, will you?”

Nick faced the curtain, every sense honed on the rustle of clothing behind him. “I need to ask you about the dark sedan that hit you,” he said.

“It was blue or gray. American make. Chrome grille. Tinted windows. Bumper was hard as hell. It’s got an indentation of my hip on it. You can turn around.”