“We were starting to think he’d been forgotten.” Her eyes flicked between Ryan and Jenna with a knowing and inaccurate sweep. No psychic abilities were needed to read the woman’s thoughts. The nurse suspected a lot closer relationship between Jenna and Ryan than the one they shared.
“I’m not—he’s not—we’re not really friends.” Well, dang, she was making the situation worse. Trying to control the flush creeping across her cheeks, she had the uncomfortable realization that she was reacting for the first time in almost a year to a stimulus outside her own pain and misery. A step in the right direction, her grief therapist would say. Totally overrated, in Jenna’s opinion.
When Jenna started to hop off the bed, Ryan smirked and linked his fingers with hers in a charade of warmth and affection.
“I never doubted she’d come for me.” He flashed Marley the dimples that had women from coast-to-coast swooning. “She always does.”
The nurse giggled like a fifth grader, proving herself as susceptible to his outrageousness as any other gullible woman in the world. Jenna could barely keep from crossing her eyes at his line of bull. Even through the fog of medication, sexual innuendo seemed to be second nature to him.
Just like Matt.
If Ryan didn’t let go of her hand soon, she’d clobber him with her purse and leave.
Instead, he brushed a singeing kiss across the back of her fingers in a comical lover-like gesture that couldn’t have been less romantic. Except for the heat.
And, boy, did it pack heat. It had heat the way a wildfire had heat. Heat so hot she thought her hand might burst into flames.
She tried to jerk it away, but he held on, pretending the tug of war between them was part of their fun and games.
With a scowl, Jenna slid off the side of the bed. A warning—or a plea—flashed in his eyes before his face softened. He’d never asked her or anyone else for anything that she could recall, but then, she knew little about him. And clearly, he was ready to ask something of her now.
“You really are his ride?” Marley asked, still skeptical.
Ryan squeezed Jenna’s hand and answered for her. “Of course, she is. And now that she’s here, let’s get moving.”
“You’re sure anxious to leave,” the nurse said, winking at Jenna. “Some men are so impatient.”
“All men,” Jenna corrected.
“I’d stay for the company,” Ryan said, flashing his dimples again, “but I’ve had enough of hospitals to last me a lifetime.”
Jenna wondered if his words were more nonsense or some variation of the truth. Either way, his questionable charm continued to work on Marley. She patted her riotous hair as she stepped over to the bed, directly across from Jenna.
“I feel the same way sometimes.” Marley batted her eyes at him, then looked over his chart. “Dr. Bailey’s in surgery, but he’s already signed your release, contingent on your agreement that you won’t drive and that someone will stay with you for the next forty-eight hours. Give me a minute to provide care instructions to your ‘friend’ and then you’re outta here.”
Jenna stepped backed. “Oh no, I’m not—" Another crushing squeeze on her fingers silenced her.
“—not just a friend, are you?” He cast her an insincere look of adoration and Jenna almost choked. “We’re much closer than that.”
Ryan tugged her to him. Her chest smashed into his chest again, creating the illusion she couldn’t keep her hands off him. And the illusion was almost right. She’d like to get her hands on him, wrapped right around that thick neck.
“Oh, puh-leze—”
“Don’t be embarrassed, babe.” He trailed his fingers along the sensitive inner skin of her forearm. “Marley doesn’t need details. But the sooner you let her finish the paperwork, the sooner we can take off.”
“Let go of me this instant,” Jenna hissed into his ear, ignoring the tango beat of her pulse, “or I’m leaving you here to rot.”
Ryan heaved a put-upon sigh and released her. Jenna didn’t waste any time in getting vertical. She breathed a lot easier after she’d regained her own space and removed her body from contact with his.
The nurse recited a long list of instructions for everything from medications to the amount of bed rest he’d need before he began extensive rehabilitation. Jenna checked the time, as anxious as Ryan to be on their way.
“Understand?” Marley asked.
“Sure.” Jenna clutched the sheaf of papers. She’d give the list to Abby when she arrived, or to the absent Zoey-Baby, or to whomever he conned into taking care of him.
“He needs to be up with moderate movement, but the most important thing is to keep him off stairs for the next few days, and make sure someone’s with him for the next forty-eight hours.”
“Why?” Jenna asked.
“These manly types don’t like being flat on their backs, tied to their beds.”
“Sometimes we do,” Ryan cracked.
“If someone doesn’t keep an eye on him,” Marley continued, “he’ll do too much and reverse the entire surgery.”
“I’ll behave,” Ryan promised with a raised-hand vow. “Just get me out of here.” He directed a meaningful glance at Jenna. “We’ll work out the specifics later.”
Remaking Ryan is available for pre-order now!
Meet Your Mate Excerpt
Book 2 of the Good Riders
Chapter One
“And the winner of this year’s Community First award is—” Annabel heightened the imaginary suspense with a mental drum roll as she pulled into the local television station’s parking lot. Beelining for an empty spot at the end of the row, she allowed hometown favorite George Clooney to announce, “Challenging Destiny, Lasting Productions, Annabel Morgan and Howard Lasting, producers!”
Normally, she only conjured up her favorite career fantasy in dark and private moments, but today she’d paraded it out in bright sunlight to distract herself from a raging case of stage fright. After all, she didn’t appear on an afternoon talk show every day. Or in front of a television camera ever. Her nerves were stretched tighter than her budget.
Easing through the tandem parking slot from one side to the other, she pictured herself at the upcoming award ceremony. Dressed to impress in something sophisticated and expensive, she’d step up to accept the award that would change her life. Just as George took her in his arms for a meaningful exchange of glances and a long congratulatory kiss filled with infinite possibilities, a sickening crunch jolted her back to reality.
The front bumper of her ten-year-old Saab was metal-on-metal with a small, flashy vehicle attempting to back into the space she’d been sliding into headfirst.
Grimacing over her carelessness and the certainty of another insurance claim on the heels of her seventeen-year-old stepdaughter’s mishap the month before. Annabel shifted her car into park. She clutched the hem of her mini-skirt to keep it from rising to indecent heights as she stepped out to meet her victim. Good thing it was May, not January, or she’d freeze her butt off.
“Hey, lady,” a testosterone-laden voice growled over the slam of a car door. “You should keep your mind on your driving when you’re behind the wheel.”
Fresh from her bout of daydreaming, Annabel bit back the urge to tell the chauvinist where to stick his opinion. She glanced at the slight crease in her fender and the deeper dent in his, relieved that the damage hadn’t been worse. Shoulders squared, she turned to exchange info with the other driver and admit her guilt.
Damn. Investigative reporter ‘Mad Max’ Williams. An apology died on her lips. Even though he worked at the television station, he spent most of his time out on assignment. She’d hoped she wouldn’t run into him today. And now she had. Literally.
She crossed her arms and studied him with a chilling look. Professional acquaintances and personal opposites in work habits and lifestyles, he was her biggest rival for the community service award she coveted.