Using her good arm, she heaved herself up so she was standing. And immediately started to crash to the ground as a wave of dizziness ran over her.
No, no, no.
“Fuck! Vivi!”
Suddenly, two arms captured her gently before she fell onto the linoleum floor. The scent of the ocean hit her. Caleb. She groaned in pain as her injured arm slammed up against a firm chest.
“Sorry, jelly bean. What were you doing?” Caleb lifted her carefully up then put her on the bed. “You could have really hurt yourself. And you’ve still got the IV in. Has it come out?” He bent over her, checking the needle going into her hand. “Looks okay. What about your stitches?”
He checked her other arm while she lay there, shaking in reaction to nearly falling and to being so close to him. Had he been so firm before? So muscular? He’d always had a swimmer’s build. Long and lean. But he’d definitely bulked out.
Then there was his scent. He’d always smelled like the beach to her.
“They look okay. What about your ankle? Is it hurting?”
She frowned slightly, thinking. “No more than before, I don’t think.”
With a scowl, he leaned over her, his hands resting on either side of her on the mattress. “Now what the hell did you think you were doing?”
8
Caleb watched her eyes widen. She swallowed nervously.
What was he doing? It wasn’t like him to be so on edge. He was known for his calm under fire. It seemed that Vivi was one of the few things that could really rattle him. And the fact that she was
under some sort of threat, something she wouldn’t divulge and allow him to take care of . . .
Yeah, that had him on edge.
“Sorry. Did I scare you? I wouldn’t hurt you, jelly bean. Not for anything.”
She blew out a breath. “You didn’t scare me. I’m just a bit on edge.”
Being shot would do that. But he didn’t say that out loud.
“I haven’t said it yet, but I’m sorry about your husband.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “To be honest, we weren’t that close.”
He wanted to question her further but sensed it wouldn’t get him anywhere.
“What were you doing getting out of bed on your own?” he demanded.
“I needed the bathroom.”
“Are you allowed to get out of bed on your own?”
Her eyes widened then narrowed. “I’m an adult. I can do what I want.”
“Not when your decisions are foolish ones, you can’t.”
She glared at him. “They’re not foolish.”
“Really? Do you think it’s smart to get out of bed when you’re weak as a babe, have an injured ankle, and haven’t eaten anything in days?”
“That’s not true. I had some chocolate. And raspberry jello. And some soup.”
“Chocolate and jello aren’t really food.”