“Thank you,” he said, equal parts to the doc and to Ginny, since Buchanan had told him his wife had seen the accident, rushed over, and walked Eden to the doctor’s office with the help of Ed Pinkerton from the hardware store.
Ginny offered him a sympathetic smile and rubbed a hand down Eden’s back. “Why don’t Ellie and I step out—let you get dressed and on your way?”
“Thanks,” he said again as they left the room. Ellie shut the door behind her, and, at last, they were alone. He framed her face, lowered his, and placed a long, soft kiss on her lips. She sighed and sagged against him, and something in his chest stumbled. Resting his forehead against hers, he stared into her cloudy eyes. “I swear, Eden, Buchanan’s call took ten years off my life. At the risk of losing ten more, wanna tell me what happened?”
“Could I get dressed first?”
Christ, Swain. Get a grip. “Of course.” A quick scan of the exam room located black shorts folded on a molded plastic chair and a pair of black-and-white sandals tucked beneath. He grabbed the shorts, shook the fold out, and knelt at her feet.
“I can dress myself, Swain. I’ve been handling it on my own for about twenty years.”
He drew the shorts over her ankles, noticing for the first time that the soles of her feet were also worse for wear. “You can let me handle it, just this once.” Working the shorts above her knees, he stood, wrapped an arm around her waist, and eased her onto her feet without jostling her arm. Carefully, he tugged them over her hips, doing his best to avoid touching the injury, already visibly swollen beneath the bandage and bruised beyond the borders of the tape.
Hit by a truck. The what-ifs he’d been holding at bay for the last half hour ripped through him, making his hands shake when he wrestled her zipper up. It took a stabilizing breath to steady his hands and secure the button.
Embarrassed, but unable to help himself, he planted his palms on the table to either side of her hips, buried his face in her wild curls, and breathed deeply. Breathed in different shampoo and conditioner and whatever else they used at the salon, but beneath those disorienting fragrances was the unmistakable, alluring, and, right now, incredibly comforting scent of Eden.
Slim fingers slid up the back of his neck and into his hair. “I’m okay,” she whispered.
He nodded. “I know. Even so, choux, you’re gonna have to give me a minute. Just a minute.” Easing back, he touched a wayward curl by her cheek, and, because her eyes looked so patient, placed a kiss on that smooth, unharmed cheek, another on her often-stubborn chin, and a last, longer kiss on her soft, full lips. Feeling slightly more in control of himself, he stepped back. “I’m glad you’re okay. You ready to get out of here?”
Now she looked a little rattled, which satisfied him for reasons he couldn’t put his finger on, except to know he’d kept her guessing. She hadn’t expected tenderness from him. Maybe he hadn’t expected it from himself, either, but there it was. Her visible swallow pleased him, too, as did the speculative look in her wide eyes. “I’m ready.”
“Great.” He snagged her sandals from under the chair, knelt again, and slid one, then the other, onto her feet.
On their way out, he stopped at the waiting-room window to settle the bill, but the blond woman shook her head. “The bill’s covered.” To Eden, she explained, “There’s a very grateful mama who can’t thank you enough, and, since the little one you rescued is my niece, I’m very grateful, too. Taking care of the cost of treatment is the least we can do. If you wouldn’t mind keeping that confidential, though, my sister would appreciate it. She didn’t run it past her husband. They’ve got number four on the way and, consequently, he’s a bit tight with the funds just now.”
Now even more curious about the events leading up to his partner nearly being mowed over by a truck, he glanced at Eden and found her blushing.
“That’s really nice of you both,” she said, “but I have ins—”
“Much appreciated,” he interrupted, because Eden Brixton, rookie cop, had insurance, but Eden Braxton, soon-to-be Swain, wouldn’t. “We can definitely keep it confidential.”
The blonde smiled. “Wonderful. Eden, we’ll see you next week.”
When they were out on the sidewalk, he guided her to the Bronco.
“Oh, my car is parked across the street at the salon.”
“We’ll get it tomorrow.” Taking her arm, he helped her into the truck.
“I can drive.”
He walked around the front of the car and slid into the driver’s seat. Giving in to a need so bone-deep it couldn’t be denied, he leaned over, took her face in his hands, and kissed her. Slow. Deep. Grateful in a way he didn’t know existed until this moment. And because it threatened to overwhelm him, he eased back, twisted his mouth into what felt like a painfully brittle smile, and shifted gears to the job. “You can drive tomorrow. I’ll take the morning off from work to ferry you back into town to get your car. Just one more little thing to add to our financial squeeze.”
Her exasperation turned to suspicion. “You just want to sleep in.”
Either he was a damn good actor or she was letting him off easy. “Hell yes, I do. Getting up at the ass crack of dawn is not my idea of a fun cover.” He shot her a grin that felt slightly more authentic. “Especially when there’s a fairly spectacular ass crack right there in my bed.”
She laughed. “I don’t know how they do things down in N’awlins, but in the rest of the world, you don’t flatter a woman by complimenting her ass crack.”
He started the engine and pulled away from the curb. “Maybe I was referring to my ass crack? Yours is okay, I guess.”
More laughter flowed over him. “Too late, Swain. You’ve already claimed it’s one of your favorite parts. And, frankly, my ass crack is nothing short of spectacular. Just saying…”
Enjoying her, relieved to be bantering about ass cracks and not wondering how he was going to inhabit a world without her, he headed down Main Street, past the pristine, tree-lined town square, the historic fire station, and the even older courthouse that now served as the home of the Bluelick PD. He felt his smile fade at the visual reminder of the temporary nature of their partnership. Once this assignment ended, she’d go to her agency. He’d go to his. Maybe she’d use him for sex now and again, but eventually she’d move on.
Maybe not.