Page 36 of The Complete Truth Duet
She moved her hand, revealing an earth-shattering smile. “You know, I think this is the most you’ve spoken me to in a week and it’s because you’re afraid I’ll see you in your boxers?”
“No, I’m afraid you’ll see me not in my boxers. Who wears underwear anymore?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Like, ninety percent of the population.”
“Women maybe.”
“It’s been a while since I had any firsthand experience, but I’m pretty sure men wear underwear too.”
It made me an asshole, but I felt every word of that little “it’s been a while” confession ghost over my skin like heat licking off a bonfire.
“Well, not this one,” I replied, heading to the door before I had a chance to do something stupid. Like…actually drop my fucking pants.
Because she was stubborn as hell—a trait I couldn’t decide if I loved or hated—she followed after me. “I’m a nurse, Penn. And you need someone to look at your leg.”
Things I knew about Cora Guerrero:
She was twenty-nine.
Gorgeous—not important.
She mothered thirty-ish prostitutes like the biggest, grizzliest mama bear out there.
Each morning, she drank coffee like it was the only thing keeping her alive.
And while tearing out the wall between her bathroom and pantry, I’d found no less than ten boxes of cookies she’d hidden. And I knew they were hers because, when Drew had tried to relocate them to the kitchen counter, she’d come through denying they were hers but then carried them to her bedroom for “safe keeping.”
But a nurse?
“You’re not a nurse.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “Not like with a degree or anything. However, I’m currently the only other person standing in this room and you’re injured. It’s the law of default.”
“I’m not sure that’s the way it works.”
She tsked, her tongue making a spectacular appearance against her teeth. “Hate to break it to you, but around here? It is. I’m a nurse when people are hurt. Security when fights break out. A chef when people need to eat. A therapist when they need to talk. A chauffeur when they need to get to a job. And just a heads-up, if a nuke suddenly appeared that needed to be disarmed, I’d magically become a nuclear engineer too. So, speaking as a professional whatever-the-hell-I have-to-be-at-the-moment, I’ll get you a blanket to cover your manly bits, but you’re dropping your damn pants.”
Not at all how I’d thought this day was going to go when I’d rolled out of my sleeping bag that morning. But I had to admit, in the history of days I’d had, a beautiful woman ordering me to drop trou wasn’t even close to being one of the worst. In an alternate dimension, where she wasn’t her and I wasn’t me, my pants would have been on the floor along with hers the first time she’d touched me.
But here? Now?
“I’m fine,” I grumbled, once again making a break for the door. I had my hand on the knob when she caught my forearm.
“Okay, okay. Can I at least give you some gauze and antibiotic cream so it doesn’t get infected? I can’t risk you coming down with gangrene. It’s been a while since I’ve had to be a surgeon.”
Incredulous, I glanced at her over my shoulder. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
She winked. “I’m kidding. But!” She lifted a finger in the air. “Not about the gauze or cream.”
I may or may not have stared at her ass as she walked over to the first aid kit she’d used to patch up our sleeping ceiling fan victim.
“I’m almost out of gauze though. Between my nose and Brittany’s shoulder—”
Ice hit my veins and the words were out of my mouth before my brain had fully processed them. “What the hell happened to your nose?”
“I had a little run in with—”
I took a long step toward her. “Marcos?”
Her wide eyes snapped to mine. “What? No!”
Another step. “Dante, then?”
Her hand went to that tiny silver star she always wore around her neck. “No. Why? Are they planning to stop by?”
“I have no clue.”
She blinked at me, her hand dragging that star back and forth across the chain as though she were trying to start a fire. “Would you tell me if they were?”
“Absolutely. Would you tell me if they hit you again?”
Her face paled, and the movement at her neck stopped. “How do you know about that?”
“You had a bruise the day we got here. Wasn’t hard to put two and two together. If they come back—”
“You can’t do anything,” she rushed out, closing the distance between us. “If and when they come back, stay out of it. Okay?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Not gonna happen.”
She lifted her hand toward my forearm before thinking better of it and dropping it to her side.
I wished like hell that she’d have followed through.
Her voice softened. “Penn, I’m serious.”
“So am I. So we’re making a deal. I’ll tell you if I hear anything about them heading this way. And, if they do, you come find me.” I leaned toward her. “Immediately.”
