Page 20 of Risk of a Lifetime
“Oh, all right.” She sat in the chair again and picked up the magazine, thumbing nonchalantly through the pages. “I’ll call the ambulance if he incapacitates himself during the night. But I’m not waiting on him hand and foot. He can make his own breakfast, scrub his own back, and take care of any other bodily needs by himself.”
Took great restrain on JB’s part not to burst out laughing as doc’s face reddened. The old guy shook his head and stomped from the room, muttering something about “respect for a religious man.”
“Now where are my clothes?” JB rolled to a sitting position and dangled his legs down the side of the bed. His body hurt more than he planned to admit to anyone else. The spot doc pressed might bear watching.
A tap on the door caught their attention, and Marcy stood.
“Here’s a shirt, jeans, and a pair of socks,” Sadie said through the opening, pushing her arm into the room with the clothes. “Forgot the underwear.”
“Commando’s fine with me.” JB offered.
Marcy shot him a can’t-believe-you-said-that-to-my-mama look before she took the stack from her mother. “Thanks.”
“You need anything else?”
“No, we’re ready to head home. I really appreciate you doing this.”
The red-haired woman reached through and gave Marcy a hug. “I’m glad you’re both okay.”
“Me, too.”
“Thanks, Sadie,” JB said.
The door closed with her goodbye before Marcy brought the clothes over to the bed, laying them next to him. When he stood, the world shifted for a moment, and he steadied his leg against the mattress then ripped the hospital gown off.
She grabbed his arm, flicked her glance in a quick once over of his body, then dropped her hold. “You sure you’re okay to go home?”
Their looks met for a long, steady moment. The heat from her hand on his arm had touched more than his skin. From the flush of her cheeks, she’d felt it, too. She turned away, and he pivoted toward the bed.
“I’ve been hurt a lot worse than this. Get your stuff together, so we can get out of here.” Glancing over his shoulder, he grinned as she walked to her chair. “And, don’t worry, sugar, I can take care of my bodily—”
Damn, he’d done it again. Called her sugar. He needed to stop, even if he did like to see her fume every time he said the word.
The door banged open, and in barged Betsy.
“Do you ever knock?” Marcy asked.
If he thought turning around would get her sister out of the room sooner, he would. Instead, he stayed facing the bed then looked back over his shoulder.
Betsy let her gaze rest right where it landed. “Looking mighty good from the backside, JB.”
Too late, Marcy dashed to block her sister’s view.
“Glad I got your approval.” Naked and cold and still a little wobbly on his feet, he didn’t move.
Betsy cleared her throat. “I wanted to make sure you both were okay.”
“We’re fine. Is there anything else we can do for you?” JB squared his shoulders. “If not, then you may want to leave, because I’m gonna turn around in about three seconds.”
Marcy spun to face him, her look one of jealous indignation. “You wouldn’t dare.”
JB grinned. “One. Two.”
Betsy turned and walked out the door while Marcy followed her, blocking any chance of reentry.
“You sure everything’s okay?” Betsy asked through the barely open doorway.
“Everything’s good.” Marcy pushed the door closed inch by inch. “Thanks for taking mama to get the clothes. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
