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“Can’t a man get a little privacy.” Carter didn’t need an audience.
“Want me to hold your hand for support?” His brother strolled across the examination room and held out his hand.
Carter shoved his brother’s offer away and nailed him with a death glare. “Haven’t you done enough already?”
Blue leaned over looking at Carter’s bare ass, wincing. “Ouch. That looks like it hurts.”
“Let’s just say that I’ll never look at a pitchfork the same again. Or chicken for that matter.” Carter laid his chin on his folded arms.
“Two inches to the left and you would have been singing soprano,” Maya said.
He heard the humor in her tone.
“There’s nothing funny about this situation, trust me.” Although he more than likely did have food poisoning, but realizing he’d asked a woman to marry him, one that he hadn’t laid eyes on in more than twelve years, definitely made him a little off-kilter. What the hell had he been thinking? And why in God’s name had she taken him seriously?
“Sorry.” But Maya didn’t sound a bit apologetic. “Don’t move. You’ll feel a stick.”
Carter gritted his teeth as the needle pierced his skin. He’d had tattoos that didn’t sting as bad. “I could have patched myself up, but Ma demanded I come here. She thought I might bleed to death.” He would have rather saved himself a whole lot of humiliation and just mended himself.
“You know the safety measures, Carter. You can’t ignore farm injuries. They can seem like nothing but can turn fatal in the blink of an eye. I know a lot of people who’ve died from negligence.”
“Or getting one ass cheek amputated,” Blue said. “Damn, that’d suck.”
“Better than walking around with only half a brain,” Carter droned.
“It looks like you have three puncture wounds, Car.” Maya said. “They bled a lot, by the look of your bloody jeans and the towel you were using. That’s a good thing, which aids in flushing out a lot of the bacteria. To be safe though, I’ll need to clean them out and give you a couple of sutures in each. Also, I’ll write you a script for a round of antibiotics.”
“Do I really need stitches?”
“He’s scared,” Blue teased.
Carter ignored his brother.
She ripped open several packages and emptied the contents onto the table. “Don’t worry. After a couple of days, you’ll be back on the mend, and hopefully dodging any more run ins with sharp objects.”
“It’s important to make sure he’s as good as new for his lovely fiancée.” Blue sat down in the corner chair and slung his leg over the arm rest.
Sending his brother a “shut the hell up” glare, Carter realized he might punch Blue. “Do you ever shut up, man?”
“Wait—what?” Maya asked. “You’re getting married? Whoa, what did I miss?”
“Last night he asked Gianna Mosley to marry him,” Blue said with a proud grin.
She squeezed the plastic bottle a little too tight and liquid shot out, splattering the ceiling. “Dove Grey’s Gianna Mosley?”
“I’m never drinking or eating again.” Carter rubbed his throbbing temples wishing he could erase the last two days.
Blue pushed out of the chair and slapped Carter on the shoulder. “I’d love to stay and catch you if you decide to pass out again, Car, but I have some errands to take care of. Text me when you’re done. I’ll come back and get you.”
“I’d like to say I’ll miss your support, but get the hell out.” Carter laughed, but he meant every word. Sometimes Blue’s teasing was relentless.
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” Blue made his way out of the exam room, whistling the tune of the Wedding March.
Maya snickered. “Sorry, buddy. I don’t have a clue what’s going on but the expression on your face could win a Golden Globe Award.”
“It’s only a misunderstanding that can be easily cleared up.” His phone beeped from the back pocket of his jeans still rolled down at his ankles. “Do you mind grabbing that for me?”
“Yes, I do mind. I have clean gloves on,” she said firmly while she continued to clean the wounds.
