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Isobel rolled her eyes. “Such a charmer, you are.”
They’d finally reached the truck and Hunter went to grab for the driver’s side door.
“Oh no you don’t, Mr. Dopey-pants.”
He turned and gave her a spectacular grin that took her breath away for a second. It was annoying how handsome he was. “See, you can’t remember my last name either.”
Even heavier eye role. “Mr. Dawkins, would you please be so kind as to get your ass around to the passenger door because there is no way in hell I’m letting you drive in your condition.”
He made a face at her like he was back in Kindergarten. “Who died and made you boss?”
The smile fell off her face. Because today, the answer had almost been: him.
“Get a move on.” She pushed past him to unlock the truck and then climbed up inside. He just stared at her. Or more likely he’d been staring at her ass as she hauled herself into the cab. The fact that he was alive to ogle her made her slightly less snappish when she said, “Now.” Slightly anyway.
He finally got the hint and came around to the passenger side. He seemed to have some difficulty getting the door open, though. She saw him frowning in confusion at it through the window. Good lord, maybe she should have helped him up before getting in herself. She reached over and opened the door for him.
“Oh.” He took a stumbling step back, reaching for the door to steady himself at the last second. Isobel about had a heart attack in the moment he faltered, though.
“Get in the truck,” she all but yelled. For God’s sake, if she survived today, it was gonna be a goddamned miracle. She just needed to get Hunter somewhere where there was a flat surface he could lay down on and not do any harm to himself. She’d swear she lost years off her life driving to the hospital with him half conscious and bleeding all over the passenger seat.
She grimaced looking down at the seats. They were a somewhat washable plastic-y material, and no doubt the truck had seen plenty in its tenure as Hunter’s mobile veterinary office, but still. Seeing the brownish red stains along the seams leftover from her rush clean up job with the towels they kept in the back—
She jerked her eyes away from the upholstery and back to the man who was whole and healthy in front of her.
Hunter had his hand held in front of his face and he was staring at it like it held all the mysteries of the universe. “Have you ever realized your hand is as big as your face? Like, what does that mean?” He looked over at her, wonder filling his face.
Well, he was healthy enough.
“All right, space cowboy. Buckle up.”
When he continued to stare at his hand, wide-eyed, she reached across him for his buckle. He nuzzled into her neck from behind. “You smell good. Did I ever tell you that?”
She jerked the belt sharply across his chest and pulled back, feeling her cheeks flush.
“I always thought so. Is it vanilla? No,” his eyebrows hunched, considering, “it’s got like a fruity thing. Vanilla fruit.” He nodded, then looked at her like he was waiting for her to confirm his theory.
“Um.” She was pretty sure she smelled disgusting at the moment. She’d only gotten a glimpse of herself when she’d run to the bathroom in the hospital earlier, enough to see that her clothes were muddy and her hair a disheveled mess. For once, she refused to allow her vanity to get the better of her, though, and she’d fled the mirror before any insecurities could take hold. Hunter’s life was in danger and she’d refused to obsess over petty bullshit.
But Hunter was, for all intents and purposes, fine now. And he was staring at her far too intently for her liking.
So she put the truck in gear and pulled out of the hospital parking lot.
As soon as the truck lurched, Hunter grunted and jerked his torso forward.
Oh. Ouch. She hadn’t realized it, but he’d been holding his body away from the back of the seat ever since he’d gotten in the truck. Until she’d started and the momentum pushed his sore back into the seat.
Her stomach knotted up when she thought of how much pain he must be in if it was still hurting through all the meds they’d doped him up with.
Speaking of…
“Hunter, did they give you a prescription you need to fill? To get more pain medication?”
Hunter made a dismissive noise. “I’ll be fine. Dawkins men are tough as nails.”
“Hunter,” Isobel said with a warning voice.
“I’m fine.”
