Saxon's Soul (Haven, Texas 5)

Renard just grunted and, when they walked outside, headed towards the restaurant. “Guess I’ll just go clean up your mess.” He turned back to her. “This doesn’t get you out of making that cake.”

Saxon just shook his head and then set her on her feet next to his Jeep, which was parked out in front. He leaned her against the side of the vehicle and stood close in case she showed signs of dizziness.

“I’m fine. Really. It’s just a little cut.”

“A little cut, huh?” He opened the passenger seat, then grabbing her by the waist, lifted her up. She let out a squeal of surprise as he settled her into the seat. He grabbed the belt, pulling it across her and securing it. “Keep your hand up. I can see the blood seeping through the towel. And Renard, for all his dramatics, never overreacts. If he says you need stitches then you do.”

He quickly closed the door then ran around to the driver’s side. Annoyance warred with worry as he drove down the driveway. He turned to look at her briefly. She was growing paler, her pain obvious. “I cannot believe you thought you’d take care of this on your own. Were you going to drive yourself to the doctor?”

She bit her lower lip. “Yeah. I guess.”

“You guess?” What was she thinking? “I’m pretty certain I made it clear that if something happened to you or the boys you were to call me first. Rules, remember?”

“Renard did call you, you were busy.”

He slammed the palm of his hand against the steering wheel, making her jump.

Easy.

“If you don’t get through the first time then you try again. And why didn’t one of you call my cell?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think about it.”

He pulled into the parking lot of the medical center. Haven didn’t have a hospital, they were too small for that, but the local doctor could take care of this. And Saxon preferred to use him anyway.

He shifted towards her, grabbed her chin and turned her face to his. “You will think about it next time. I’ll see to that.”

Her mouth dropped open, probably due to the threat in his voice.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that after you’re patched up and feeling better you and I are going to have a chat and discuss what it means to follow rules.”

Her gaze narrowed. “How come I get the feeling that by chat you don’t actually mean talk?”

“Oh, I intend to talk. It’s just that most of that talking will be done in between when my hand lands on your ass.”

And, oh, it was going to feel so, so good.

“Take a seat here, pet.” Saxon helped her sit down in a chair in the waiting room, handling her like she was a ninety-year-old woman who’d taken a tumble down the stairs. She wasn’t feeling that bad. Well, not quite. But not far off either. She felt a bit nauseous and she had to admit she wasn’t feeling steady.

He crouched in front of her and tilted her chin so she was looking up at him.

“I’m okay,” she told him, trying to reassure him.

He ran a finger down her cheek. “Not yet. But you will be. I’ll go sort out the paperwork. Stay put.”

Like she’d dare do anything else. Her lips twisted into a smile. But as soon as he disappeared, that feeling of reassurance faded. She took a shuddering breath in. She was being silly.

She glanced around the waiting room. There were just a handful of people here. A couple of older ladies in the seats in front of her and a mother with two young children in the corner by the kids’ toys.

“Aspen? What happened?” She glanced up as Hannah walked up and sat in the seat next to her. “Oh, honey, what did you do?”

Ridiculously, she found herself blinking back tears. The genuine upset and concern in the other woman’s voice shook her.

“Just sliced my hand with a knife.”

“Oh, no.” Hannah looked at her with dismay. “You poor thing. The doc should be able to see you soon.”