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Poor thing. Avery set her hand gently on his shoulder as she surveyed the scene. “You were making the bed?”

He gave a wry laugh. “This couldn’t have happened while I was carrying heavy pallets or shingling the roof.”

She patted his shoulder. “I promise not to take your man card. What precisely caused your back to go out?”

“I stretched across the bed, twisted a little, and bam.”

“Any pain or numbness in your legs?”

“No.”

“All right. It does sound like a muscle strain. I don’t think you’ll need an X-ray. Can you straighten up?”

His jaw set and he eased upright inch by inch, exhaling a steady breath as he straightened. Pain pulled his facial muscles taut. He stopped when he was only slightly hunched over.

She took his arm. “Okay, let’s get you into bed, mister. You need ice, rest, and an anti-inflammatory. Think you can sit?”

“Not here. You have a guest coming. And I haven’t set the sink yet. Just give me a minute. Maybe it’ll pass.”

She scowled at him. “A strained muscle will more likely take days, not minutes. You know I’m right; you’ve been through this before. And don’t worry about the sink or my guest. I’ll figure out something else.”

“I’m not staying here. Maybe I can get Stewie to come and set the sink for you.”

“Will you forget about the sink? Get in the bed.”

“I’ll just crash in an exam room or in your office or something.”

Avery tilted her head. “Oh, that’ll make a good impression. Dr. Chan, please meet a patient of mine who’s camping out in the clinic for tonight. I promise he won’t raid the narcotics. Get in the bed, Wes.”

A shadow flickered in his jaw as it twitched.

This definitely wasn’t ideal. He’d worked so hard to get the carriage house ready for Dr.Chan, but Avery didn’t know what else to do. The man needed bed rest, and his health had to come first.

“I can stay at the motel then,” he said.

“You’re going to fold yourself into my Jeep?”

He grimaced. “What about your apartment?”

She arched her brow. “You mean the one at the top of the staircase? Do you really think you’re fit to climb stairs right now?”

“I can do it—if I go slow. It’s bending at the waist that kills. The doctor’s only coming for one night, right? I can sleep on your sofa, then if my back’s not better, I’ll move back in here after the doctor leaves.”

Her gaze met and clung to his. He was being so stubborn about this. Itwasonly one night. But she knew one thing for certain: there was no way she’d put him on her sofa—he’d never fit, for one. And he really needed to stretch out on his back. She would put him in her bed and take the couch herself. However, she’d keep that little detail to herself until he made it up the staircase.

“All right. If you’re sure that’s the way you want it.”

“I am so sorry about this, Avery. First an illness now an injury... I never meant to be such a pain your backside.”

She told herself her smile wasn’t provoked by heartfelt reliefthat he’d be staying a little longer after all. “You’re not a pain. And it’s certainly not your fault. Now, let’s try and get you up those stairs.”

Five minutes later they were still navigating the staircase. Avery’s arm curled around Wes’s waist. She pressed into his rock-hard side and held the hand he had wrapped around her shoulder. Her legs trembled under the extra weight.

He paused midway up the flight, still hunched over, his breaths coming heavily. “This is so embarrassing.”

“You pulled a muscle. It could happen to anyone.” Avery didn’t exactly mind the proximity. He was so solid and male and—

“I’m too heavy for you.”

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