Page 21 of Healing Hope

Paul barked out a laugh, despite the crazy situation they were in. And he hoped her humor didn’t change to horror when she took his shirt off. “This was all part of my grand plan,” he said wryly. “Have a guy break in and get into a one-armed fistfight for you to look at me like a hero and take me to bed.”

“We could have done without the break-in and gone straight to bed,” she told him, lips quirking, her eyes lingering on his.

Incredibly, even with the emergency people waiting and Hope and Sophie needing care, he responded to that look, and wondered if he dare acknowledge it. It was obvious what she meant- she wanted to go to bed with him. A thrill went through his gut, despite what was happening.

Jess didn’t seem to need him to respond, or she wanted to backtrack, because she reached for the hem of his tee and lifted it over his head. Paul gasped as something in his midsection ground together. Had the guy gotten a strike to his ribs in? Then he glanced at Jess.

It was one thing to strip down for other medical personnel at his hospital. He had no problem with that. He went in to check the fit of his shoulder form every year, and make modifications to the prosthetic, if needed.

Exposing yourself to civilians, as in non-medical personnel, was always a Crapshoot. Sometimes they were totally cool with everything and didn’t even give the issue a second glance. Other times, it was like he was the main character in a horror movie or something. He’d been with one woman who had literally recoiled and ran from the room when she’d walked in and seen him without his shirt and prosthetic. It had been a relief because she’d sworn up and down that it didn’t bother her, but her words had rung false to him. She’d proven him right in that moment, and it had been easy to break off the relationship.

Something told him that Jess would not react that way. Despite her laid back, Bohemian approach to things, she was deliberate and calm in her actions. And he’d never seen her react in any way other than kind. A couple of times he’d seen her be firm with Hope, but she never talked down to her or belittled her. And she always treated him with respect. Tonight was the first time he’d seen her angry, and it had been something to remember.

As he looked at her now, though, all he could see in her expression was calm acceptance, and some curiosity. “So, the shoulder joint is still there…”

“Yes,” he said. “They shot me through and through high on my arm. The doctors then took most of the bone and left me the joint.”

He watched carefully for any hint of revulsion or fear or anything, but it didn’t happen. The area was a mess of red lines and scarred over tissue, but she didn’t hesitate. Stepping close, she lifted the prosthetic to his joint, and he instructed her on how to buckle it on. She fit it perfectly the first time, then stepped back to grab his t-shirt. She put his prosthetic arm through, then his head and his other bandaged arm, then straightened it on his waist.

Her eyes were hooded as she stepped back, and he needed eye-contact, so he lowered his head to catch her gaze. “You okay? Did it turn your stomach? I understand and hopefully you won’t have to…”

“No,” she interrupted, looking up at him. “Not at all. I just…” she shook her head and turned away.

Paul reached for her, but he forgot about his hand being hurt, and he gasped. Jess spun around, her hands raising instinctively to help. “I reached for you,” he admitted. “That was my mistake.”

She gave him this… chiding look that made his heart stutter in his chest. It was a cute look, though her eyes seemed a little glassy, and he couldn’t help but smile at her a little.

“I didn’t want you to see my tears,” she said eventually, sighing heavily. “You deserve better than that. No, you didn’t turn my stomach. That doesn’t bother me,” she said, waving a hand at his injury. “It speaks to me that you had to ask. And it hurt my heart. Let’s get tonight straightened out and we’ll sit down to have a talk.”

Paul blinked and nodded. Before he could move to leave the room, she stepped close and cupped his face in her hands. Then, staggering him completely, she went up on tiptoes and rested her mouth on his own, giving him the lightest of kisses. When she pulled away, she had a dazed, somewhat hungry look on her face… Then she went up on tiptoe and kissed him again, this time more firmly. Paul wanted to drag her tight against his body. His prosthetic moved behind her and he pulled her closer, returning the kiss. For a timeless moment, they breathed the same air and shared a heartbeat. Until she pulled away. Jess blinked several times, the pupils of her eyes dark with arousal.

“Let’s get this night straightened out,” she said firmly, stepping away. Her hand drifted down his chest, like she wanted to linger, then she turned away and left the room.

Despite everything going on, Paul grinned crookedly. The night had brightened considerably.

10

Dr. Butcher, his real name and a terrible irony for a vet, grinned at them as he walked into the room carrying Sophie. “Well, no broken bones, but she definitely sprained it. I’m going to send you home with some antinflammatory meds and some pain meds, but she should be fine in a week or two.”

Tension seeped out of Jess’s spine. Thank goodness! They had bandaged the dog’s leg in pink vet wrap and it looked huge on her little frame, but when the vet put her down, she hobbled to Hope. Tears rolling down her cheeks, Hope carefully picked the dog up and buried her face in the brown and white fur, weeping quietly.

Jess’s own eyes teared up. It had been a hell of a night, and there was a lot of emotion floating around. It was just after one a.m., and they were worn out.

“She really will be okay,” Dr. Butcher said, resting a hand on her shoulder.

Jess shook her head, though she appreciated his care. “It’s just been a crazy night.”

Dr. Butcher, who she guessed was in his thirties, smiled at her kindly. “I understand. We love our pets. I expect her to make a full recovery, though.”

Jess forced a smile, resting her hand on Hope’s head. “Thank you, doctor.”

The vet gathered up his folder. “I hope you and your daughter have a better night. If you have problems, just give me a call. Here’s my cell-phone number.” Leaning over, he scrawled his name and number on a scrap of paper. Jess took it, smiling weakly. She would keep the number for Sophie, but she wouldn’t be calling the vet for any other reason.

Jess paid the bill with Paul’s credit card and listened to the after-care instructions, then guided Hope out to her Jeep.

“Why didn’t you tell him I wasn’t your daughter,” Hope demanded, lifting her tear-stained face from the dog.

The question caught Jess off guard. “I’m not sure. I guess I didn’t mind that he thought you were my daughter.”