She thought a moment. “Surfing accident?”
No one would ever buy it. “You look like you’ve been beaten with a two-by-four, not a surfboard.”
Determination filtered into her tone. “I don’t care what anyone thinks.”
I almost smiled. I could tell she wasn’t bullshitting and I admired the fuck out of her for it. “Good for you. Makes life easier.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “The stitches feel tight.”
I glanced at her to see if she was accusing me of something but she was just staring out the window. “Wait till they start itchin’.”
“When does that happen?”
“Coupla days.”
She didn’t respond.
For some reason, her silence bugged me. “What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?”
“You don’t have to flirt with me.”
Her honesty was disarming. “Statin’ fact is all, Siren.”
“I’m not a siren.”
“You’re definitely a siren, in every sense of the word.” I couldn’t leave her alone. I didn’t even want to. If that didn’t spell trouble, I don’t know what the fuck did.
She turned toward the window.
“You done talkin’ to me?”
“Thank you for taking care of my leg.”
The quiet humility in her voice made me feel like an asshole. “Welcome,” I muttered, pulling into the walk-in clinic. “Wait for me. I’ll help you out.”
“Okay,” she said without an ounce of animosity.
I got out the car and took a second to feel the hot sun on my shoulders and center myself. I didn’t know what to make of Siren. Not that I was trying to impress her but I’d also never had to work at conversation with a woman before. If I was smart, I’d get her patched up and on her way then find the nearest piece of ass and fuck myself into oblivion.
The thought leaving a bitter taste in my mouth, I opened her door. Sweeping an arm under her knees, another behind her back, I lifted the nothing weight of her and got slammed with the scent of jasmine.
Trusting and innocent, she curled her arm around my neck. “Thank you.” Her soft voice touched my heart as her sweet breath sent a shot of awareness up my spine.
“Welcome,” I rumbled. “Watch your head.” I pulled her out of the car and set her on her feet but when her injured foot touched the ground, she swayed. “Whoa, darlin’.” My arms wrapped around her and for a split second, I felt like I was home.
“No, no.” Sucking in a breath, she put her hands on my chest. “I can do it.”
Thrown, I let her go. “You hate people helpin’ you,” I said gruffly.
“I’m just not used to it,” she answered frankly.
Not wanting to think about that or the feel of her soft innocence in my arms, I led her inside and had her take a seat. I knew before I’d brought her what I’d be up against, but the hard stare from the elderly receptionist made me grit my teeth.
Eyeing Siren’s face, she handed over a clipboard with paperwork. “Insurance?” she asked briskly.
I smiled my million-dollar smile. “I’m payin’ the good ol’-fashioned way.” I slapped a credit card on the counter.
She rang the card up and handed it back. “Fill out the paperwork and have a seat. We’ll call you when the doctor is ready.”
“Much obliged.” I took my card back and sat down next to Nic. “You right-handed?” I asked quietly.
“Yes.” She glanced at the paperwork but nothing in her expression gave away what she was thinking.
“I’ll fill it out. What’s your full name?”
“Nicole Marie Archer.”
I was right. She was a siren. Her voice was soft and pretty and fuck if I wasn’t thinking about what she’d sound like in my bed. “Date of birth? Social?”
She gave me the numbers.
“You allergic to any meds?”
“No.”
“You currently takin’ anythin’? Any history you want mentioned on here?”
“No,” she said firmly.
I looked up at her, my bullshit detector going off. “Everyone’s got a history.”
“No medications,” she said just as firmly, ignoring me.
Surprised she wasn’t on birth control, I didn’t say shit about the other. I didn’t want to think about her life with that asshole. I filled out the rest of the paperwork, putting my address and phone number. If she noticed, she didn’t mention it.
I got up and handed the info back to the receptionist, who was still glaring at me like I was the one who’d busted up Nic’s face. “You should see what happened to the surfboard,” I joked.