Page 25 of Some Like It Hot
He wasn’t trying to be arrogant—she knew that. But if he only could have seen himself when they picked him up—a raw scrape on his chin, his golden brown hair sooty and matted, his face blackened, his eyes reddened, and his hand securing his arm to his body—he might have agreed that he wasn’t exactly the guy for the job.
Or maybe he was, because he’d definitely been in serious pain, but he’dstillstumbled over to Seth, the big blond guy he’d left in charge, and shouted final instructions. She’d nearly gotten back out of the chopper to catch him, woozy as he was on his feet, but the look on Riley’s face suggested he would only push her away.
He seemed angrier at himself than anyone else, however. Proven by the fact that he could barely look at her when she helped him from the chopper to her truck, once they’d landed at the ranch, and by the time they reached the hospital, he was gritting his teeth rather than openly groaning.
Tough guys. They drove her crazy.
A nurse came into the room and checked his vitals. An oxygen cannula ran under his nose, a pulse ox on his finger, an IV line with pain meds taped to his arm. They’d washed his hair and given him a sponge bath before taking him into surgery, and now his hair lay in thick tousles, his beard even longer, golden strands mixed with deep chocolate brown.
Tempting.
She tucked her hands under her armpits and stood away from him as the nurse finished.
“He should be waking up soon,” she said. “And you should get some sleep. It’s after midnight.”
Larke nodded, then sank down in a chair near his bed.
No, she shouldn’t, because the minute he woke up he’d probably want to do stupid things, and she’d start worrying all over again. And now she definitely rued the decision to follow Reckless to the Midnight Sun and get tangled in his arms.
What on earth had she been thinking?
She leaned forward, rubbing a sudden fatigue from her face.
“I can admit wanting to wake up next to you, but this isn’t what I had in mind.”
She looked up into Riley’s brown eyes, one side of his mouth lifting up.
Oh brother. “This is as close as you’re going to get to that fantasy, so drink it in.”
“I am. That and whatever drugs they have me on…” He breathed deeply. “Maybe I’m dreaming…”
She rolled her eyes and got up. “They had to pin your collarbone. And your arm is in a braced sling. You’re in no shape to fight any fires there, champ, so sink back into that morphine and enjoy.”
The tiniest flicker of challenge raked through his eyes, and his smile dimmed.
Especially when he looked past her, out the window. His lips thinned to a tight line. “Any word on the fugitives?”
She shook her head, and when he closed his eyes, as if in frustration, she nearly reached for his hand.
Instead, she put hers in her pockets. “Are you thirsty?”
“I’ll take a whiskey, straight.”
“Ha.” She picked up a Styrofoam cup and angled the straw toward his mouth. “I have water. Neat. Sorry, the ice has melted.”
His gaze latched onto hers as his lips closed around the straw. He took a couple swallows, then leaned away. “You didn’t have to stay.”
She put the cup back on the patient tray. “I know. I didn’t trust you not to make a break for it.”
His jaw tensed, as if yes, she had foiled all his plans. “They’re all rookies out there.”
“They’ll be okay.”
“This is such a mess.” A little red lingered in his eyes. “I totally screwed up. Again. I know better than to walk under a snag. Stupid. Simple firefighting 101.”
She stepped back, arms akimbo. “You’re being a little hard on yourself, aren’t you?”
He lifted his good shoulder.