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"Then no deal," she crossed her arms over her chest.
"What's the point of going out if I have to be chained to this thing?"
"Well, who said you had to be chained to it? I said I can't take you unless you're in the wheelchair."
"Meaning, if we took the crutches…?"
Georgie leaned over, put both hands on the arms of his chair, and smiled at him. "Who knows? And I thought, maybe we could have a picnic."
"With fried chicken and beer?"
She made a face as if thinking. "Hmm, I suppose I could be persuaded."
"I think I love you," Riggs pulled her onto his lap and kissed her.
She wasn't sure who was the most shocked because the moment the kiss ended, they looked at one another like teenage kids who'd just shared their first kiss and had no idea what to do next.
"I'm sorry," Riggs hurriedly apologized. "I know you're engaged, and I'm not trying–"
"It's okay," she moved off his lap. "Are we still on for chicken, beer, and picnic?"
"Hell yeah."
Georgie turned, grabbed his crutches, and headed for the door. "Then keep up, big fella."
"Right behind you, boss."
She smiled and opened the door for him. Today, she'd learned something. First, she was pretty confident Riggs was attracted to her. It was in his kiss, and also, there are specific physiological responses a man can't hide.
But more importantly, that kiss had confirmed something she'd feared for over a month. She was more than simply attracted to Riggs for his looks. She saw in him traits she admired, and when she wasn't with him, she thought of him. That told her something vital. She couldn't be genuinely in love with Josh if she were interested in Riggs.
The problem was she didn't know what to do. She pushed her concerns aside and concentrated on her patient. This would be their first time leaving the hospital since his injury, and the psychiatrist assigned to Riggs had warned that while Riggs claimed to the contrary, the doctor was convinced Riggs had PTSD.
Georgie agreed. Riggs’ monitor readouts bore testimony to that. There were more nights than not when he suffered from sudden increases in heartbeat and blood pressure and more than a few nights, he'd ripped everything off in his sleep, triggering alarms.
She paid attention to him as they rode the elevator. If being in a confined space bothered him, he didn't show it. He looked around as they exited the elevator and even commented on how big the place appeared. He'd never been there before, and when he was brought in, he was sedated, so this was his first look around.
She was relieved by how at ease he was, but that changed when they reached the parking garage; his expression changed, and his wheelchair slowed. "Everything okay?" Georgie asked, noticing how his eyes moved, scanning the garage while his head never moved.
He didn't answer. His hands were now clenched on the armrests of the wheelchair, and his entire body was rigid. Georgie had never dealt with anyone suffering from PTSD but was willing to bet that what he felt had something to do with the event that caused his injury.
She didn't know what to do, so she made a snap decision and hoped it was right. She started pushing him in the direction of her car. "I'm just down the way about five cars on the right. See that old Wrangler? Most people laugh when they see my car and ask why I don't get something decent. I guess they don't see the beauty, but I love my Jeep."
Georgie paid attention to Riggs as she continued along, pushing his chair and talking softly. "I remember the day I bought it. I was so excited. I had someone take a picture so I could send it to Naomie. She had a Jeep like this when I met her, and I loved it so much. I was over the moon happy the day I was able to get one of my own."
She slowed and turned once she reached the Jeep, parked Riggs' chair beside the door, and opened it. "You want your crutches?" She reached for the crutches, stored in a handy carrier on the back of the chair, but he took her arm and stopped her.
"I can make it. Just let me hang onto you for stability."
"Okay," she wasn't going to argue with him. She'd been working with him for months and had no doubt he could do it. His upper body strength was tremendous, and his remaining leg was equally strong. Her only concern was balance, but she was trusting they'd manage.
When they did, and he was seated in the passenger seat, she smiled at him. "Let me stow this stuff in the back, and we'll hit the road."
A couple of minutes later, she was behind the wheel with the windows rolled down and slowly heading for the parking garage exit. When they pulled out on the street, she noticed Riggs tensed again.
"Can I ask you something, Riggs?"
"Sure, what?" His eyes once more scanned the environment.
