Chapters (27)
She combed her fingers through his hair. “It was a good thing I was with Maddie when I heard about it. I had to keep it together for her sake.” Remembering that moment of sheer panic, she shuddered. “I was so afraid you’d been badly hurt or worse.”
“I’m sorry you were so afraid. I hate that I caused that.”
“I hate that you and Mr. McCarthy got hurt.”
“It’s all over now, baby.” Curving his hand around her neck, he brought her in for a soft, sweet kiss that quickly spun out of control.
Sydney drew back from him. “Hold that thought for an hour or two, will you?” As she got up, he let out a tortured moan. Leaning over the bed, she kissed his forehead. “You’ll survive.”
“Where’re you going?”
Sydney ran a brush through her hair. “I need to see Buddy.”
“You’re seriously choosing a dog over me? You know how to wound a guy.”
Sydney pulled off her shirt and reached for a clean one. “I’m not choosing a dog over you. I’m choosing Buddy over you—and only temporarily. I don’t want him wondering where I am.”
“All right,” he said with a long-suffering sigh. “When you put it like that, I guess I can live with it. Of course, I’m recovering, too.”
Groaning, Sydney said, “Don’t turn into a typical man on me. Please.”
Luke laughed. “I wasn’t aware I’d been atypical. What would make me typical?”
“Acting like a big baby just because you’re a little bit injured.”
“A minute ago you were getting weepy because I nearly died. How fast you forget.”
“Typical men are also pouty when they don’t get their own way.”
He reached behind him and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it across the room and just missing the laundry basket.
Sydney bent to pick it up and put it in the basket. “Also typical.” She turned, intending to scowl at him, but the sight of his sculpted chest and ripped abs made her mouth dry and her mind blank.
“Syd?”
“Oh, um, sorry.” She couldn’t believe she’d been caught gawking at him.
With his hands behind his head and a satisfied smirk on his face, he reclined against the pillows. “It’ll still be here when you get back.”
“You’re being typical again.”
“Maybe I can be typical later, too. After all, my kind is known for being after one thing only, right?”
“You’re injured.”
“All the most important parts still work.”
She stopped to kiss him one more time. “Stay off that foot.”
“You’re turning into a typical woman.”
Hands on hips, she worked up a glare. “How so?”
“B-o-s-s-y,” he said, accentuating every letter.
“I can live with that. Be back soon.”
“Hurry!”