“Huh,” Will says. He wades into the water and assesses the situation. Based on the amount of swearing on Gavin’s part and his level of pain, Will decides to call the paramedics. While he’s on the phone, I take off my shoes and socks and climb into the cold stream. I squat down next to Gavin.

“Does it really hurt?”

Gavin grits his teeth. “It’s not too bad.”

I glance over at Will. He’s talking to the 911 operator, but he’s watching us from the corner of his eyes. Even now, he doesn’t want to leave me alone with Gavin. I frown and look down at Gavin. He grimaces in pain and tries to put on a brave face.

Suddenly, I realize that once again fate has intervened just in time. I was confused and then Gavin fell. Gavin being injured is fate’s way of letting me nurse him back to health. There are thousands of romance novels on the Florence Nightingale effect. Injured men falling in love with their nurses. I’ll nurse him back to health and he’ll finally feel that spark. And…so will I. All of my strategies didn’t work, and that’s because they weren’t the right path to love.

I pat Gavin’s hand. “Don’t worry, the ambulance will be here in no time.” I smile down at him and he gives a grateful smile back.

“Thank you,” he says. “It helps having someone as pretty as you as a distraction.”

I smile and ignore the pinch in my chest. I purposely don’t look at Will as he splashes in the stream and pulls Gavin’s bike to the grass. I don’t look at him as he crowds close to me and checks on his brother. I don’t…I can’t look at him.

I feel like I’m betraying him, which is silly. Because fate couldn’t have spoken any louder. It wants me to be with Gavin. It’s paving the way for a classic Florence Nightingale romance.

It’s basically a done deal.

11

Will

Turns out Gavin broke his coccyx, aka his tailbone. I spent twelve hours in the hospital with him and brought him back to the house with a doughnut pillow for him to sit on, and a load of prescriptions for pain. I slept for a few hours then woke at five to get some work done. There was a pile of emails from the lawyers concerning the merger with Duporte to review and the weekly numbers from my VPs to go over.

There was also a phone call from Alan Duporte concerning his and his wife’s plans for the party this weekend. They’ll be staying in Romeo and want to get together before the party. I notified my PA to book something. When I finished with everything it was already noon and I realized I hadn’t eaten yet.