Grant tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling. “Ah, hell. Of course he is.”
Charli had no idea if her head injury was messing with her focus, but she had trouble following the shift in Grant’s demeanor and the conversation. “You know him?”
Grant sniffed. “Yeah, you could say that. He’s got a bullet lodged in his shoulder that was meant for me.”
Charli stared at him, the words taking a few moments to register. “You’re Ice?”
A dark cloud seemed to cross over Grant’s face. “Was. Gotta love those army nicknames.”
Her brother had told her stories about his army buddy, Ice. Had told her the guy had gotten his name because nothing seemed to get to him or scare him. But when one of their missions had gone awry, Max had ended up being the one to protect Ice from a fatal shot. Her brother had gotten a medal for it, but no one in her family had ever met the guy Max had saved.
“Wow, Max will be thrilled to know you’re only a state away. He lives in Baton Rouge.”
Grant went to the tray of food, turning his back to her. He busied himself pouring a bottle of water into a glass. “He knows where I am. We’ve kept in touch. He’s mentioned he had a sister a few times, but I assumed you were in Louisiana with the rest of his family.”
The air in the room had changed directions—awkwardness replacing the electricity she’d felt moments before when he’d held her hand. She cleared her throat. “Uh, you were saying you had a request for me?”
He headed back her way and set the glass of water on the bedside table. “Never mind. Wasn’t important. Now you rest up, and I’ll check on you later tonight. My cell number is next to the phone if you need anything.”
What she needed was him touching her again, but apparently that buzz of sexual energy had only been one-sided.
“Grant?”
He turned around in the doorway. “Yes, ma’am?”
“If you do talk to my brother anytime soon, don’t mention this, okay? His heart’s in the right place, but he’s a little…overprotective.” And bossy and overbearing. And thinks she can’t handle the big, bad city alone.r: Roni Loren
“Status,” Theo said, all business.
“Name is Charli. She just woke up. Breathing is fine. Probably concussed—can remember her name but nothing about what happened. Contusion on her forehead. I haven’t moved her.”
“Good.” Theo moved in when Grant stepped out of the way. He introduced himself with the short, quick style of an ER doctor and started his examination. Charli would be in good hands.
An hour and a half later, the sun was starting to peek over the horizon as an EMT checked Charli over one last time and discussed the situation with Theo. Grant stood off to the side, watching as the beautiful redhead tried to stay focused on the conversation these people were having about her.
“Looks like it’s only a mild concussion. We can bring her back to Graham Regional and keep her for observation,” the EMT told Theo.
“I don’t want to go to the hospital,” Charli said, her voice low and hoarse. “I just want to go home and rest.”
The young guy frowned down at her. “Ma’am, do you have someone at home who can keep an eye on you for the next twenty-four hours?”
She closed her eyes, rubbing the bridge of her nose, like it hurt to think. “Uh, Tom Brady.”
The EMT’s head tilted. “The quarterback?”
“My cat.”
The ever-serious Theo smiled a bit at that. “Charli, I don’t think your cat can call 911 if you go unconscious again.”
“He’s very smart,” she said, not opening her eyes, but her mouth twitching at the corner. “Could probably…figure it out.”
Her voice was fading a bit, her exhaustion evident.
“No, I think you’d better let them take you in,” Theo said. “You need to have someone with you for a little while. And you can’t drive home right now, anyway. It’s not safe and your car is trashed.”
She raised her gaze then, a flicker of fight-or-flight passing through those green eyes. “Please, don’t make me. I hate hospitals.”
The underlying quiver in her voice hit Grant square in the sternum. He prided himself on being able to read even the subtlest of clues in others. It had served him well when extracting information from people in his days in the CIA and made him quite the formidable dominant now. And what he was sensing was honest fear in this woman. It was more than not wanting the inconvenience of a hospital—she was genuinely freaked out at the thought.