Turn and Burn, Page 42

  asked Devin. “I’m without a vehicle.”

  “No problem at all.”

  “You’re both just leaving me?”

  Tanna rolled her eyes. “You keep insisting you’re fine, remember? Besides, Kyle will take better care of you than I have today.” She squeezed Celia’s arm. “I’ll see you later.”

  “So, brat, you still comin’ to the concert tonight or what?” Devin asked.

  Kyle said no at the same time Celia said yes.

  “Good luck with this argument. We’re outta here.” Devin held the curtain for Tanna and they disappeared.

  “Don’t give me that look, Kyle.”

  Kitten, you’d blush to the tips of your toes if you’d noticed how I’ve been looking at you the last two years.

  “What look?”

  “The bossy one.”

  “Tough, because I have every intention of bossing you tonight.”

  The curtain rolled back and a young male doctor stopped at the end of the bed. “Good news. No concussion. No broken or cracked ribs. No ruptured organs. You’ll be sore for a few days, and I imagine more bruises will appear. My advice is to take it easy, alternate ice and heat with the sore spots. But I’m well aware you rodeo-ers don’t often follow medical advice. So the best I can do on a medical front is to prescribe painkillers.”

  Celia shook her head. “I hate the groggy way they make me feel.”

  “That’s how you’re supposed to feel. Like you oughta be laying down resting,” Kyle pointed out.

  “That’s rich coming from the bull rider who’s ridden with a sprained thumb, a sprained wrist, a sprained ankle, a pulled groin muscle, and a mild concussion . . . all in the last year. You refused pain meds and I didn’t see you resting any of those times.”

  He had no response for that. Mostly he was surprised she’d taken note of his injuries.

  “I’m writing you a scrip for pain meds. Up to you if you fill it,” the doctor said. “The stitches need to come out in a week. Any other questions?”

  “Nope.”

  “Good. No more mixing bulldoggin’ with drinking Mad Dog whiskey, okay?”

  “If you insist.”

  The doctor laughed. “You can get dressed. The nurse will be in with your discharge papers shortly.”

  Celia sat up and kicked away the blanket, dangling her legs off the bed.

  Kyle’s eyes drank in every inch of those ridged calf muscles covered by smooth, pale skin. His gaze traveled up slowly, stopping at the equally sexy curve of her knee.

  “Stop gawking at my legs like you’ve never seen ’em before.”

  He didn’t bother banking the admiration in his eyes. “Hard not to stare when you’re sporting such a fine pair.”

  “You just noticed that?”

  “No.”

  The air between them vibrated.

  Kyle invaded her space. This close to her he felt that one-two punch of something stronger than lust. “Would it be so bad?”

  “What?”

  “Letting me watch over you tonight?” An internal debate warred in her eyes. Kyle braced himself for a smart-ass rebuttal.

  “Watch over me like a brother would?”

  “The last way I think of you, Celia Lawson, is like a sister. And you damn well know it.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m glad you came to Vegas, Cele. I was afraid you wouldn’t show up.”

  “Kyle.”

  “Mmm?” He placed another kiss on the edge of the bandage.

  “Can we talk about this later?”

  “Define later.” The skin below the bandage needed a kiss as well.

  “Right after we leave here. At my hotel. You need to skedaddle so I can get dressed.”

  “In a second.” He smoothed flyaway strands from her face. The honeyed scent of her hair filled his lungs and he seemed to breathe easy for the first time since he’d heard she was hurt. He left one last soft smooch on her lips. It totally flustered her, which was odd, given that it wasn’t the first time he’d kissed her.

  “Umm . . . Hand me my clothes.”

  He dropped the pile on the bed. “I’ll be right outside.”

  “No peeking,” she warned as he ducked out.

  Kyle paced the length of the privacy curtain. On his fifth pass, he heard her gasp. Worried that she’d strained herself, he poked his head back in. “What’s wrong?”

  Celia clutched a wad of fabric to her chest. “It was my favorite shirt. My lucky purple shirt. Now it’s covered in blood and completely ruined.” A little hiccup escaped. “I can’t wear this.”

  “Are the jeans ruined too?”

  “No. Just a few splotches of blood.”

  “Tossing that shirt in the trash ain’t no big loss in my mind. I’m thinkin’ its luck ran out. Never looked that great on you anyway.”

  Celia lifted her head, probably to snap at him. Before she opened her mouth, Kyle gently wiped her tears. “Come on, kitten, I was kiddin’.”

  “Pretty stupid to be so upset over a blouse, huh?”

  “Somehow I don’t think it’s just about the blouse. And given that you’re in the hospital, you’re entitled to a few tears. You don’t always have to act so tough, you know.” Kyle popped the buttons on his long-sleeved western shirt. “Although I wouldn’t mind seein’ you in just your sexy bra and them tight jeans, I don’t think you wanna flash the entire ER when I bust you outta this place. Wear this.” He draped his shirt over her pillow and tucked his white T-shirt into his jeans.

  “Uh, thanks.”

  Interesting that Celia couldn’t take her eyes off his chest. “My pleasure.” Kyle kissed her forehead. Twice.

  “What’s with you kissin’ me all the time now?” she asked crossly.

  “I hardly think a couple of pecks could be considered me kissin’ you all the time.” His eyes searched hers. “But I could ramp up the kisses to spark your memory from a few weeks back, if you’d like.”

  “In your dreams.”

  Kyle chuckled. “I’ll be outside if you need anything.”

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  Former small-town girl Amery Hardwick is living her dream as a graphic designer in Denver, Colorado. She’s focused on building her business, which leaves little time for dating—not that she needs a romantic entanglement to fulfill her. When her friend signs up for a self-defense class as part of her recovery after an attack, Amery joins her for support. That’s where she meets him.

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