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He's the Man (The Alexanders 3)

Page 11

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But in the end, it came down to the same factors she always used to make her decisions. She believed he wanted to get better. And she believed she had the tools to help him.

“Okay. I’ll help you. But be warned, I’m a pretty tough taskmaster. Come on back, Sergeant. We might as well figure out your treatment schedule.”

“We’re back to being formal already? Do I need to remind you of the time I caught that snake and hid it in your backpack?” He stood close enough that she could feel the heat coming off his big body. “I thought we’d already established that you would call me Matt.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Well? Let me hear it.” He leaned over until Penny could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. “Go ahead, Penny. Say my name.”

“Matt,” she whispered.

His eyes lit with triumph.

Penny gulped as the circus troupe in her stomach started performing again. The only thing they’d established was that Sergeant Simmons made her feel everything her boyfriend didn’t.

* * * * *

MATT FOLLOWED THE soft sway of Penny’s hips as she led him down the hall to a room. There was a long table covered in the thin paper sheeting hospitals and doctors’ offices used to protect plastic seats. She excused herself for a moment and then came back holding a file.

“I’ve been reading up on you. I want to take a look and see where you’re having difficulty. Then I can devise a treatment plan.” She motioned toward the patient bench with her hand and he hopped up on the table, the paper crinkling beneath his legs.

“Can you unbutton your shirt, please? I want to take a look at your scar.” Penny issued the order and followed with a stern look when his lips curled up at the edges.

“Sure thing.” It took everything in Matt not to make a dirty comment, but he was already on thin ice with her, so he clamped his lips shut and unbuttoned his shirt. When he was done, Penny lifted his left arm gently, then touched the thin scar beneath his collarbone. She led him through a series of movements, noting his responses. She didn’t touch him any more than was necessary.

Oh yeah, he noted with satisfaction. She was feeling it, too.

After a few minutes, she walked back over to her desk. “It looks like your surgery to repair the glenoid labrum was successful, but yet you haven’t fully healed.”

Matt nodded even though he had no idea what she meant. “I’m up shit creek, huh?”

Penny shot him a tight grin. “I didn’t say that. I can help you. Despite what you seem to think of my profession, I’m determined to use my 'little exercises' to help you build stability in the ligaments and muscles surrounding the injured area. I believe we can get you enough strength to compensate for the weak areas so they can heal. You can button your shirt now.”

Matt winced. “I’m sorry about what I said. I’ve just been dealing with some stuff.”

Penny waved off his apology. “I get that, but it doesn’t change the facts. I’m going to say this once. If you are willing to work harder than you ever have, I can help you. But I am going to make you push, curse, and sweat. Before it’s all over you’re going to hate me.”

He motioned to the dress shirt he was wearing. “I can’t even wear a simple tee shirt anymore. It hurts to lift my arm that high. If you can get me back to normal, I promise I won’t hate you. Hell, I’ll probably get down on one knee and propose.”

“That won’t be necessary.” The light blush that suddenly rose in her cheeks showed she wasn’t as unaffected as she appeared. Matt found himself studying her more closely.

Her blond hair was lighter at the ends, like she was growing out highlights. Not that he could see much of it since she had it bundled up in some kind of knot at the back of her head. Blue eyes the color of a clear sky sparkled behind the thin frames of the glasses she’d slipped on. She looked much the same as the quiet, unassuming girl he’d known years ago except for an extra inch in height and several inches in the bustline.

He wondered if she thought the bulky white lab coat she wore hid her figure. If anything, it made her curves more pronounced because it stretched out the seams in ways that probably weren’t intended.

When he looked up, she was glaring at him.

Right. Staring at her chest was probably not the best way to start off their professional relationship.

“So, what’s the next step?” He sent her a tight smile before focusing on buttoning up his shirt.

“The next step is getting you on the schedule three times a week. Half the battle will be keeping you from injuring yourself further, so in the early stages I’ll want to monitor you carefully. Let’s start with noon next week, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”

“Okay. That works.”

“Rule number one is that you tell me what you’re feeling. The truth. I know you’re a big, bad soldier and you can take pain, but there’s no place for machismo here. In this situation, I need to know what’s really going on with your body. Your pain response gives me information. Information is how I tailor your treatment. Can you do that?”

“I can do that.”



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