“I try not to lie unless it’s necessary.”
“Big news flash, pal. That’s what most people fucking do.” And she was tired of all the lies.
“Joe is not going to like your language.”
“Joe can go screw himself. I’m not changing who I am for anybody!” She swung out her hand and hit the wall. She cursed. She’d forgotten she was on the far side of the bed.
Sawyer jumped up and was next to her in seconds. “Let me see. Did you hurt yourself?”
“Of course, I damn well hurt myself.” But the physical pain wasn’t the only thing causing the tears in her eyes. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”
“I’m sorry I upset you.” There seemed to be real remorse in his gaze as he looked up at her. He took a gentle hold of her hand, running his thumb over it. “Move your fingers. Is that okay? Any pain?”
“It’s all right.” She tried to tug her hand back.
“We should put ice on it. Do you have any?”
She shook her head. “It’s down in the main kitchen.”
“I’ll get some.”
“No, wait.” She reached for him and caught the back of his shirt.
He turned to her, startled.
“Someone will see you.”
“No one will see me.”
She rolled her eyes. “My God, you’re arrogant. Sawyer, I just whacked my hand. I don’t need ice.”
He stared at her for a moment. “A cold cloth then.”
She didn’t argue, even though she thought he was overreacting. Her hand throbbed but nothing was broken. Nothing that couldn’t be repaired. Unlike her pride.
He returned, wrapped a cool cloth around her hand. It did help.
“Thanks,” she muttered.
“It hurt you that Garret told me?”
She couldn’t look at him. “It’s my private business. He had no right telling you.”
He reached over, placed a finger under her chin, and tilted her face up. “He had every right. Because I need to know everything that’s relevant to your care.”
She shook her head and pulled away from him. “First of all, I know you all have this crazy idea you’re going to share me, but that’s not happening. Second, I don’t need care. You might see me as young and foolish and in need of protection. But I’m tough. I’m strong. I don’t need anyone.”
“That so?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“Do you think that I’m tough and strong?” he asked, sitting back in the arm chair.
“What?”
He was silent. She looked him over. He was built like a brick shithouse.
“Yeah, you’re strong. Tough.”