Page 121 of The Gift
Her shoulders fell.
He grinned. “His exact words were, ‘no obvious psychological concerns.’”
She snorted. “I feel like that’s the lowest bar possible.”
“Worked for me.”
“So you’re done with him?”
“One more follow-up in a month before he’ll sign off.”
“That sounds reasonable.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not under restrictions. At least the surgeon lifted some of them.”
“After you threatened to arrest him.”
“He was being dramatic.”
“He told you not to ride your motorcycle until your stitches came out.”
“Which came out yesterday. So I’m good to go.”
“He didn’t say that. He said you should take it easy and avoid unnecessary risks.”
“Semantics.”
Erica rolled her eyes. She’d seen the report. The motorcycle restriction had been lifted, which meant there was suddenly nothing, not her concerns or a medical license, that would stand between Vince Cooper and his Harley.
His hand found hers on the bench. The familiar warmth brushed across her senses before his fingers even closed around hers.
Not a vision. Not someone else’s emotions. Just him. Steady. Comforting. Safe. Like it had been from the beginning. It just took having it taken away—almost—for her to realize it.
Her fingers laced naturally through his.
“You know what the psychologist asked?”
“What?” she said, looking up at him.
“If I regretted anything.”
“What did you tell him?”
“No. But that wasn’t true.” His thumb stroked lightly across her knuckles. “I should’ve asked you out sooner.”
A laugh escaped before she could stop it. “Earlier would have been the night we met.”
“That’s right,” he drawled, remembering. “I was busy dodging flaming stove covers.”
“You thought I was crazy.”
“Not crazy. Quirky,” he corrected. “I also thought you were cute. Especially when you came out to my truck, barefoot, wearing an ankle bracelet.”
Warmth bloomed in her chest. “You noticed?”
“I notice everything.”
Like the band squeezing her heart, she squeezed his hand. “That’s incredibly romantic.”
