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He inwardly cringed. This was not going to go well. “I might have gotten a little bit shot.” He aimed for levity.
“Lake Benson, you’ve been shot and you didn’t tell me?” Kirsty’s face flushed with outrage. “Let me down. Let me down now.”
He winced as she slid off him and down to the floor. She tugged down her dress and bent to pick up her underwear. She pulled the panties back on as she glared at him.
“I can’t believe you let us do that when you were bleeding.” Now it was fury making her eyes glow. He preferred when it was desire.
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Get that jacket off. How bad is it?”
“It’s fine. Seriously. I’m okay.” In truth, he wanted to get back to the kissing part of his evening before there was more crap to deal with and the kissing would get delayed. It seemed to be the story of his life these days—work and obligation pushing out all the good stuff. A sense of peace flowed through him as he thought of Callum taking on half his burden. Hopefully he’d never again go three months without touching his woman.
“Jacket off. Now.” Kirsty pushed away from the wall and stalked towards the door. She yanked it open. “Flynn, Abby,” she said with dignity to the people who knew exactly what they’d been doing.
Lake could only imagine the look Flynn was throwing her way. He winced as he pulled off his jacket.
“Lake’s been shot. I need the first-aid kit.” She frowned at Lake. “I’ll be back in a minute. I need to visit the bathroom. Don’t go anywhere. We’re dealing with that gunshot wound when I get back.”
“No way.” Flynn pushed past Kirsty to step into the grand room. He scanned the devastation, then focused on the blood still dripping from Lake’s arm. Flynn’s grin was slow and
wide. “You are a legend. Not that we heard much—the walls here are thick and the doors are solid wood—but I can imagine. And all that while wounded. Kudos.”
A hand yanked Flynn back into the hall. “What?” Lake heard Flynn protest. “Tell me you aren’t impressed.”
Lake hung his head and counted to ten.
Then things got worse—his mother-in-law appeared.
Margaret Campbell frowned at him. “Is this really the best time for hanky-panky?”
“Mum!” Kirsty’s face turned the same colour as her hair as she came back into the room. “Lake’s been shot. Where’s the first-aid kit we’re using for our own men?”
“We have separate kits?” Lake said, hoping it would be enough to distract attention away from what they’d been up to.
“We kept the good stuff for our boys,” Margaret said. “This kit has painkillers in it.” She glared at him. “Although I’m not sure you deserve them.”
Lake tried not to smile. “We’ve been living together for three years. You know we have sex.”
“Lake,” Kirsty wailed.
“I know,” Margaret snapped. “But this isn’t the time or the place and I don’t need to know about it when it happens.” She stomped off, hopefully to get the kit.
Lake looked down at his arm. There was a gouge that ran across his bicep. It wasn’t deep, but it was still bleeding. Kirsty grabbed his arm to study it.
“You could have been killed,” she said, as though it was his fault.
“No. I couldn’t. I’m good at what I do. It’s only a flesh wound. No big deal.”
“No big deal.” Her voice went into hysterical territory.
Lake looked at a still-grinning Flynn for help.
“It’s only a scratch,” Flynn said. “He’ll be fine.”
Kirsty frowned at Flynn. “It’s time for you to be gone.” She turned back to Lake and folded her arms over her luscious breasts, making his mouth water. They needed to find a bed, and soon. “You and I are going to have a proper talk about this later,” Kirsty threatened as she cleaned out the wound.
“Yes.” He leaned forward and kissed her again. “We’re going to have lots of proper talks from here on out. I’ll try to communicate better in future.”
