Pregnant with the Rancher's Baby: Reclaimed by the Rancher

“Do you want to play nurse and patient after we go to bed?” he teased as they walked into the kitchen. “I can let you adjust my arm sling and check my stitches right after you give me a bed bath.”

Rolling her eyes she shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“You can’t blame a guy for trying,” he said, laughing.

“Nate, being injured is serious,” she said, turning to frown at him. “If you don’t take care of your shoulder, you could cause permanent damage to the tendons and ligaments.”

“Shh. You’ll wake Rosemary,” he said, knowing that a bomb could go off outside her bedroom and the woman would snore her way right through it.

He had hoped to divert Jessie’s attention. The tactic failed.

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t have spent the night in Amarillo and come back here in the morning as we’d planned to do,” she whispered as they walked down the hall and started up the stairs.

“I have approximately three weeks to get this shoulder straightened out before National Finals in Las Vegas,” he explained when they reached their rooms. “I’ve got a physical therapist on retainer and he can be here tomorrow morning to start my rehab exercises. I want to get the jump on this because if I don’t I might as well skip Vegas and stay home.”

“You’ve been hurt so many times you have a concierge physical therapist?” she asked, her expression disbelieving as she opened the bedroom door. “How did I not know that?”

“I guess I just got hurt during the times when we weren’t seeing each other,” he said evasively, carrying her bag over to set it on the bed. He didn’t want to tell her that several of the times he had been injured it had been right after he broke things off with her and he’d had his mind on her instead of being focused on his riding.

She started to dig through her suitcase, presumably for her nightshirt. “Well, don’t forget to prop your leg up and put ice on your shoulder for about twenty minutes before you go to sleep.”

Setting his duffel bag on the floor, he reached for her. “I’m going to need your help,” he said, pulling her to him.

“What on earth for?” she asked, sounding delightfully breathless.

“I have a registered nurse staying with me and you expect me to do all this medical stuff on my own?” he asked, kissing the satiny skin along the side of her neck. He nibbled at the hollow behind her ear. “I think you should sleep with me in my bed tonight so you can take care of me and make sure I’m all right.”

“Really? You’re going to use that excuse?” she asked, shivering against him.

He nodded. “I might not get the pillow in the right position when I prop up my leg. Or the ice pack might slip off my shoulder and I wouldn’t be able to put it back in the right spot.”

She leaned back to look up at him. “Nate, I don’t think—”

“I served as your backrest for the past two nights,” he reminded her.

“That’s not fair,” she said, her expression not nearly as disapproving as he was sure she meant it to be. “Those pancakes the hotel was passing off as pillows were too flat to serve as any kind of support.”

“I can’t help it if I got used to holding you while we sleep,” he said, tracing his finger down her delicate cheek. “Besides, darlin’, I hate to admit it, but I’m hurting too bad right now to do anything anyway. And once I take another pain pill, I’ll be zonked out in no time.” When she began to nibble on her lower lip, he knew she was going to give in. “Come on, Jessie. Didn’t you like being snuggle buddies?” He used his thumb to stop her from worrying her lip, then gave her a gentle kiss. “I know I sure liked it.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “All right. But just for tonight.”

“Why don’t we just take it one day at a time and see how long I need you with me?” he suggested, knowing that once he got her in his bed he intended to make sure she stayed there.

* * *

“Nate, where is your arm sling?” Jessie asked when she sat down on the couch and noticed that he wasn’t wearing the stabilizer.

“I’ve graduated to Kinesio tape,” he answered proudly. He stopped watching the crime show on the big-screen TV in his media room to lift the sleeve of his T-shirt. Two strips of the brightly colored support tape used by a lot of athletes ran from his shoulder down to his biceps. He was fortunate that it had only been a partial separation and not a complete dislocation or a break. And she was certain the injection the doctor had given him to reduce inflammation had helped tremendously.