The Werewolf Meets His Match

Page 70

Her lips brushed his mouth. “Sleep, baby. All I need is for you to heal up. Everything else can wait.”

While it wasn’t funny that Hank had been hurt, his attitude during the whole thing kept cracking Ivy up. First he’d been loopy and sweet on the morphine. Now he was cranky and petulant because hospital regulations meant he had to leave the hospital in a wheelchair.

Ivy tried to keep from laughing as the nurse gave her directions. “If you’d like to pull your car around, I’ll meet you at the front with Sheriff Merrow.”

“I don’t need a wheelchair,” Hank groused.

“Hey,” Ivy said. “Just be glad they let you put on the clothes I brought you, otherwise you’d be leaving in that pretty blue hospital gown.”

He glared at her. “You were a lot nicer when I was on morphine.”

She shot him a finger gun. “Right back at you.” Then she nodded at the nurse. “See you up front.”

She slipped out and headed for the parking lot. Hank would have more to say when he saw she’d brought his GTO, but it wasn’t like she could take him home on the Harley. She pulled the sweet machine under the hospital’s covered entry just as the nurse was wheeling him out.

Leaving the car running, she hopped out and went to open the passenger door.

Hank’s face was screwed up into a mix of incredulous irritation and begrudging admiration. “Nice ride,” he said dryly.

“You have no idea,” she said. “Well, I guess you do.”

The nurse moved the foot rests out of the way. “You’re all set, Sheriff Merrow.”

“Thanks.” As the nurse held the wheelchair, he eyed Ivy and slowly stood, his smirk telling her he wasn’t really upset. “You were probably just waiting for a moment like this.”

She put her arm around him and helped him into the passenger’s seat. “Yes, I was hoping you’d get stabbed so I could drive your car. You figured me out.”

She gave the nurse a wave, then shut his door, went around and got back behind the wheel. “Buckle up. This thing is fast.”

Smiling, he shook his head. “I have a feeling I know why you married me.”

She threw the shift into first and winked at him. “The car’s one reason. I’ll remind you about the other when those stitches come out.”

He laughed, wincing. “That can’t be soon enough.” He looked over at her. “Charlie at home?”

Ivy pulled out carefully and got them on the highway. “Yep. Birdie’s babysitting. She’s madly in love with that kid, but she still feels guilty for letting him out of the car. She blames herself for you getting hurt.”

Hank shrugged. “Could have happened to anyone. I’ll talk to her.” He put his head back on the seat.

“Tired?”

“Only of being away from you and Charlie.”

She reached over to pat his leg.

“Hey, two hands on the wheel. Unless you want to park somewhere for a while.”

Laughing, she managed to get them home without crashing. She pulled the car into the garage, parked it, then helped him out and up the steps with her shoulder under his arm on his uninjured side. “I hate to tell you this, but you’re supposed to be on bed rest for another twenty-four hours.”

He grunted.

“I’m serious.”

“The doctor knows I’m a shifter so he should also know I don’t need twenty-four hours. And I hate bed rest. Unless you want to join me in the bed.”

“That wouldn’t really qualify as rest then, would it?” She rolled her eyes and shook her head as she opened the door to the house. “Where do you want to set up?”

Birdie’s and Charlie’s voices carried in from the living room. Hank hesitated. “What are they doing in there?”

“Sounds like a video game. I didn’t know you had a system.”

“I don’t.” He changed direction toward the living room. “Birdie must have bought one for Charlie.”

Ivy helped him to the couch. Birdie and Charlie were too enthralled by the game on the screen to notice until Charlie finally won.

He turned around and saw Hank, and his face lit up. “You’re home! Did you see me win Mario Kart?”

Hank nodded. “You drive like your mother.”

Ivy laughed as Charlie ran toward Hank, but she caught him and blew a raspberry into his hair. “No jumping on Hank until he’s better, okay?”

He sighed with seven-year-old exasperation. “I know.”

Shaking her head, she set him down.

“I’m glad you’re home.” He approached Hank slowly. “Are you gonna be better soon?”

As Hank answered him, Ivy turned to Birdie. “Everything good?”

She nodded, the soft edge of guilt lingering like sadness in her eyes. “I hope you don’t mind that I bought Charlie a Wii. I figured it might help distract him from…anyway, I think he likes it.”

“Looks like he loves it. That was very nice of you.”

Birdie looked at Charlie, who was now sitting next to Hank on the couch and having a serious conversation about something. “I feel so bad.”

“Don’t. You didn’t do anything wrong. And everything worked out, so there’s nothing to feel bad about.”

Her smile wasn’t quite convincing, but she nodded as she put the game controller down. “I should get home. Let you all have some peace and quiet.”

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