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“I told you I can’t. I need to get another tree.” I look into Ryder’s dark eyes, and his gaze is tormented for a split second.
Was he worried about me? I know he cares about me like a sister. Heck, I think he feels responsible for me since Luke’s death. But I’m an adult now, and I don’t want him looking out for me because of some misguided sense of responsibility. I don’t want him to see me as a sister. I want him to see me as his woman, as his equal. I want him to pull me into his arms and kiss me until I don’t know which way is up. I want him to throw me down on soft sheets and lick my naked body until—"
“You’re shivering,” Max says, making me blush as she breaks across my little fantasy. “I’m not signing you fit until you get checked out at the hospital.”
“Great. Two of you ganging up on me,” I grumble, shooting them both glares.
“Hey, don’t blame me,” Max says, holding her hands up. “You’re the one who decided to get all watt and bothered withthe Christmas tree.” She snorts, looking pleased with her clever pun.
Ryder shakes his head. “On that note . . .”
“Thanks, Max,” I call over my shoulder as Ryder herds me toward the trailer door.
“Any time. Remember, you’ve had ashock, so take it easy for the rest of the day.”
Ryder and I groan as we exit the trailer. Seems our medic missed her vocation as a comedian somewhere along the line.
Ryder pulls out his radio and lets Luca know about the fire and that it’s been contained before turning back to me. “I’m taking you to the hospital. Then I’ll go with you to get everything you need. I promise. They can manage without a tree for one scene.” The shutters come down, and his expression leaves no room for argument.
“This is my job, Ryder,” I point out, my shoulders sagging in defeat.
“I know, honey. It won’t take us long to get you checked out.” He’s already gently nudging me toward the parking lot.
Honey. That’s new.He’s never called me by anything other than my name or Sparkles. I practically melt at the endearment, then tell myself to get a grip. Doesn’t mean anything, even if my heart disagrees.
The hospital lights are a little too bright as I sit, pen in hand, trying to fill out all these blasted forms. How is all this stuff not on some centralized computer system? It seems antiquated to use a pen and paper in this day and age.
“Ugh. I hate this,” I grumble, scratching my name into a box. The type is too small, and the words start to roll around on the page, sending the familiar anxiety through my bloodstream.
I fidget in my seat. Filling out forms is my nemesis. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
“What’s wrong?” Ryder asks, his dark eyes concerned as he looks at me.
His soft tone and kindness almost unravel me, and I swallow my tears. “It’s been a long day, Ryder. The tree going up in flames is serious. It was the only one available on the set, and it’s going to reflect badly on me.”
“You’re more important than a goddamn tree, Charity,” Ryder growls, taking me by surprise. He scrubs a hand down his face. “I’m sorry. You gave me a scare. It won’t take long, and you’re not leaving here until you’ve been checked over.”
Oh.Is it wrong that I’m turned on by his growly protectiveness?
I force my attention back to the paperwork, but a minute later, I drop the clipboard on the hard plastic seat beside me with a heavy sigh.“I can’t fill this out right now.” My voice breaks. “I feel so stupid in situations like this.”
“Here, let me. You’re still a little foggy. And I never want to hear you call yourself stupid again.” His voice is firm as he reaches over me and takes the papers from the chair.
I expect him to ask me for the information he needs to complete the form, but a few minutes later, he’s done and hands them back to the receptionist.Hmm.Seems he didn’t need my input. I guess he does know pretty much everything about me.
“I can’t believe I burned down the tree.” I close my eyes and lean my head back, willing the tears away. God, I’m an emotional wreck today. I love Christmas, but it’s always tough without Luke. “Now I’ll forever be known as the props manager who set a Christmas tree on fire.”
‘That wasn’t your fault. The outlet was dangerously overloaded. You could’ve died,” Ryder growls, his face dark with anger and something else, something unfamiliar I can’t put my finger on.
I open my mouth to reply, but the nurse appears and calls my name.
“Would you like to bring your boyfriend with you?” she asks kindly.
“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s”—My lover? Husband?—“just a friend.” I blush, following the nurse through to an examination room.
“Your pulse is all over the place,” the nurse, who introduced herself as Erin, says two minutes later. ‘Though I don’t think it’s anything to do with the electric shock.” Her grin and knowing look have me blushing.
“He is . . .wasmy brother’s friend,” I mumble.
