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Presley
“That wasn’t the deal!”
I shout and squirm in this big oaf’s arms, but I may as well be wrestling out of a straitjacket.
When Wade doesn’t answer, I push against his arm that’s hooked under my knees. “Where are you taking me?”
“To the doctor,” he says with an edge of amusement.
“You said I didn’t have to go to the doctor!”
Wade somehow wrangles the passenger door open and sits me down. I try to bolt from the truck, but he makes the most undignified move ever—palms my forehead, holding me still as I swipe at him ineffectively.
“I didn’t expressly say that.”
“You implied it!” I squawk.
Wade doesn’t care what I want because he reaches past me, buckles my seat belt, and then shuts the door in my face.
Wow, he really does live up to his reputation as a jerk.
I’ve never been so offended in my life. And my foot is screaming in pain.
Why can’t he just take me home, let me have some Tylenol, and try to forget this embarrassing work injury?
Wade slides behind the wheel and turns to me with a smirk. “No, I didn’t imply anything. I omitted the information that you are going to the doctor regardless of how bad you don’t want to.”
“Why are you like this?”
He studies me thoughtfully as he switches on the engine. “Because I wish someone would have taken better care of my baby sister when my brothers and I were serving overseas. She got herself into one scrape after another. Susan’s all good now, but you remind me of her. I feel like I have a second chance to rewrite history.”
Wade throws the truck into gear. “And I want to hear more about these so-called hard-ass guys who like to spread lies about you.”
He thinks he does, but nobody wants me to burden them with my problems. People say they care, but they don’t know what to do with all my bullshit.
“You don’t know me.”
“I know you seem to be on the run, which intrigues me. And you have pretty eyes.”
“Trust me, nothing is intriguing about why I’m on the run.”
Wade lets that comment lie while we drive to the emergency room in Gold Hill.
“Don’t take me to the fancy hospital; I can’t afford those doctors. Can’t you just take me to the doc in a box?”
“No, I can’t. Company procedure. The urgent clinic in Fate is out of network for our employees.”
I want to argue that I’m so new I haven’t signed up for medical insurance yet, but I have a feeling there’s no arguing with this guy.
If I don’t get fired from this job, I’ll have to get a second one to cover medical expenses on top of what my dad owes the Russian oligarch.
A jolt of pain in my foot sears up my leg and I wince, unable to stifle the whimper. “Ow, ow, ow!”
The look of concern that Wade gives me is the first time he’s not appeared bemused or annoyed or teasing. He seems genuinely concerned.
“Hold on tight, sweetheart, we’re almost there.” He reaches over and takes my hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
“I have a name, and it’s not sweetheart. It’s Presley Rose, and I—” I start, but my words are drowned out by the roaring engine as Wade floors it.
