“Really.” Dylan’s voice held surprise and skepticism. “And that would be as a personal assistant?”
“A personal concierge,” she corrected him.
Dylan looked puzzled. “Is that even a real thing?”
Jamie laughed. “That’s exactly what I said!”
Rachel raised her hands in surrender. “I give up. Yes, it’s a real thing, but you wouldn’t know because you lack the kind of money it takes to afford one.”
Dylan snorted. “Don’t you mean I lack the kind of temperament to need one? I refuse to ask other people to do what I can do for myself.”
Rachel looked meaningfully at his leg, swollen and bruised and held together with staples. “Okay. Well, let me know how that works out for you.”
But Dylan only laughed, and then groaned as the movement caused pain to his abdomen. Rachel immediately regretted teasing him.
“Can I do something for you? Do you need pain meds?”
But Dylan only shook his head. “No, it’ll pass. I’m trying not to dope myself up.”
“Why would you allow yourself to be in pain?” Rachel asked. “Honestly, do you have to be macho all the time?”
Dylan actually looked embarrassed. “Captain Gaskill—my boss—called to say he’ll be stopping by later today, and I’d like to be coherent.”
“When are they going to let you out of here?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Maybe another week.” He indicated his knee. “They have to wait for the bones to knit, and make sure an infection doesn’t set in.”
“So then you can return to Glacier Creek?” she asked.
“That’s the plan.”
He closed his eyes, effectively dismissing her. Rachel exchanged a look with Jamie. Dylan might fool some people with his brash confidence and free-spirited lifestyle, but Rachel knew him a little better than that. He had his own place on the outskirts of Glacier Creek, and he’d rather be there than in Bozeman. He probably didn’t want to acknowledge he might be stuck here for a week or more.
“Hey,” she said, and touched his arm.
He cracked one eye open and looked at her.
“Is there anything you need? Jamie and I are going to let you get some rest, but we can come back in a few hours. What do you want us to bring you?”
“A fifth of Jack Daniel’s, a cheeseburger, and a curvy blonde,” he quipped.
“I might be able to do the burger,” Rachel said with a smile, “but you’re going to have to wait on the other two.”
He tried to shift to a more comfortable position and grimaced in pain as he did so. Rachel noted the lines of strain on either side of his mouth. She pushed herself to her feet.
“We’re going to go now, but we’ll come back later,” she said. “If you’re not going to take any pain meds, at least try to get some rest before your visitors arrive.”
Dylan looked over at Jamie. “Can you hang back for a minute?”
“Yeah, sure,” Jamie agreed.
Rachel paused at the foot of Dylan’s bed, but when both men gave her an expectant look, she rolled her eyes. “Fine, I get it. I’ll be in the main lobby.”
She waited for Jamie by the main entrance, trying not to think about what they could be discussing. Had Dylan wanted to drill Jamie on why they were together? Did he suspect they were sleeping together? Despite the fact Dylan was six years her junior, he’d become more protective of her as he’d grown older, and he’d never made any pretense of the fact he disliked her ex. So while Dylan might be happy about her recent divorce, that didn’t mean he’d be thrilled about her hooking up with his best friend.
Fifteen minutes later, she watched as Jamie rolled his chair toward her through the corridors. As he drew closer, he slid his sunglasses on, effectively hiding his eyes.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Is everything okay?”
Jamie nodded. “Yup. Fine.”
Without saying any more, he hit the handicap button beside the door and when they slid smoothly open, he rolled through without waiting to see if Rachel followed him. She stared after him, dumbfounded, then marched after him.
“You’re seriously not going to tell me what Dylan wanted to talk to you about?” she demanded, catching up with him.
“Just guy stuff,” he said. “No big deal.”
“So it wasn’t about us?”
Jamie did come to a stop then, turning his chair so he faced her. “No, he did not ask about us. And so what if he did?”
Rachel shifted her weight and crossed her arms. “Well, I just would rather he didn’t know you and I—” She broke off, not sure how to explain it to him without sounding insulting. “There’s no need for him to know about us, okay?”