“Feeling better?” Cole asked, secretly glad that it had been she who’d answered. This way he didn’t have to ask anyone else how she was feeling and reveal the true reason why he’d called.

“Much,” she said. “And Cole…” her voice trailed off into a little silence.

“What?”

“Thanks,” she said.

“For what?” he asked gruffly.

“You know what,” Debbie said. “For the rescue. For putting me into bed. For taking off my shoes. For bringing my bags—”

“Oh that,” he said, interrupting her recital. “Well, Little Red, that’s my job. I’m a cop. Cops to the rescue and all that.”

Little Red! It had been months since she’d heard that teasing nickname. It was a play on words. Oklahoma University’s football team was affectionately known as Big Red, and she’d been a small but staunch fan; thus the name, “Little Red.”

She closed her eyes, swallowed sharply, and pulled herself together.

“Yes, well, I’ll have to take your word on that cop business. Yesterday I didn’t see a badge on you anywhere. Course I wasn’t seeing so good. But from where I was crawling, I saw a whole lot of bare skin. Wet, too. But, no badge. Definitely no—”

“You haven’t changed a bit, have you, girl?” he muttered, thankful that she couldn’t see the spots of heat that had just flashed across his cheeks. Damned woman, he thought. Men aren’t supposed to blush.

“Guilty as charged, officer,” she said. “So what’s my fine?”

His swiftly indrawn breath was audible, but Cole refrained from answering. He couldn’t tell her what had just come to mind. People got arrested here for less. “Just take care of my family for me,” he said. “I’ll be home sometime tomorrow and help you work out a schedule. Do you need anything now?”

Cole knew the minute he’d asked that she was toying with the idea of an X-rated answer. He held his breath.

“It can wait,” Debbie finally replied.

“See you later,” he replied, and disconnected before he came unglued. That woman made him nervous as hell. But it was nothing new. He’d been living with the feeling ever since the day they’d met.

*  *  *

“Dammit, Dad,” Cole muttered. “You have to help me. Your leg won’t heal right if you don’t do these exercises, and you aren’t even trying. You’re letting me do all the work.”

Debbie walked into the living room just in time to hear Cole’s remark. She quickly took in the sight of Morgan flat on his back on the floor, the removable cast momentarily off his leg, and Cole kneeling at his feet, trying to coerce him into completing his exercises.

“I don’t care what you and those doctors say,” Morgan growled. “My leg hurts too much to do this stuff.”