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“I’ve already checked it,” he lied.
“You did?” she asked. “Then why are your bandages bloody?” she asked. He looked down at the blood-soaked bandage that she had revealed and cursed. “I think that your wound is open. I’ll need to take you back to the hospital to have them assess it.”
“I’m not going back there,” he insisted.
“All right, then I’ll call your boss to let him know that you’re refusing treatment. It’s part of my job as a liaison for the Texas Rangers. My office works with theirs to clear their Rangers for duty,” she reminded.
“I know how this all works,” he grumbled. “Fine, I’ll grab my wallet.”
“No need,” she said. “Just tell me where it is, along with your crutches, and then I’ll get you out to my car.”
“Great,” he grumbled. “Wallet and crutches are in the kitchen, along with my keys, if you wouldn’t mind grabbing them too so that I can lock up.”
“Will do,” she agreed. Jo walked back to his kitchen and noted that it wasn’t as messy as the family room. If she had to guess, he had been spending all of his time out there and probably was sleeping in the recliner to avoid having to get up and move around much. He really could use some home care help. She planned on talking to his doctor today to arrange that for him.
She reappeared holding his crutches out to him and he groaned. “You’re not going to give this one up, are you, Jo?” he asked. She liked the way he sounded when he said her name after groaning. God, she needed to get her head on straight if she was going to get him out to her car in one piece.
“Nope,” she said. “We’ll take the stairs one at a time, just like I taught you, Stone,” she said. “Ready?”
“Fine,” he spat, standing with the aid of the crutches. “Let’s get this shit show over with. I have pizza to order and painkillers to take.”
She shook her head at him, and he smiled at her as if she had just given him the reaction he was looking for. One thing was for sure if she was the therapist assigned to stay with him at his place, she was going to have to keep her guard up. He wasn’t just good-looking; he was charming too—even through all his grumpy façade.
Stone
He spent the rest of the damn day in the hospital. According to the doctors, he had over done things and torn his stitches open. On top of all of that, he had an infection and a low-grade fever to boot. They were talking about keeping him, and that was the last thing he wanted, and even with all of his protests, he wasn’t making any headway.
“You really need to stop fighting the doctors and nurses,” his sister, Lulah insisted.
“Honestly, how did the two of you even know I was in here?” he grumbled. About an hour after he was put into a room, both of his sisters had shown up to boss his ass around.
“I called them,” Jolene said. “Lulah was listed as your emergency contact.”
“I knew that was a mistake,” he grumbled. He had asked his sister if she’d be his emergency contact when his captain started riding his ass about not having one listed on his forms at work. He insisted that Stone needed an emergency contact if he wanted to keep working for the department, and there was no way that he’d list his mother. After her heart attack, two years ago, he did everything in his power not to upset her. She’d ask him how he was and how work was going, and he’d give her the standard, “Everything’s great,” answer. It was their thing, plus, he never planned on needing an emergency contact, but he was wrong.
“Don’t be an ass,” Lulah chided. “You asked me to be your emergency contact, and I agreed. Let’s not make this a thing. Bobbie and I dropped everything that we were doing to be here for you.”
“Right,” Bobbie chimed in, “and let’s not forget that if you would have followed the doctor’s orders and used your crutches, none of this would be necessary.”
He turned to look at Jolene who was rummaging through her bag in the corner of the room. “You told them that I wasn’t using my crutches?” he accused.
“I told the doctors that and I’m guessing that they told your sisters. You can’t blame anyone except yourself, Mr. Granger.”
“Ugh, I thought that we agreed that you were going to call me Stone,” he reminded.
“Don’t be mean to your physical therapist. If it wasn’t for her, you’d be bleeding out in your recliner at home. You’re more stubborn than any man I’ve ever met,” Bobbie accused. “She’s just trying to help you, Stone.”
“Well, she’s done her job then. I’m stuck here now, in the hospital, and they’ll have their chance to stick needles in me again. I hate this place,” he mumbled.
“And they’ll get you out of here in a day or two,” Jolene promised.
“It might as well be two years,” Stone grumbled.
“Dear Lord, could you be any more dramatic?” Lulah asked.
“I could, if given the chance,” he teased. “I hate being in the hospital.”
“But you’re such a good patient,” Bobbie teased.
