by Sybil Bartel
I glanced at the woman in front of me and my chest tightened. “This your folks?” I found a pair of those pants women use to work out in.
Her face pinched, she breathed out of her nose. “Mm hm.”
I hated seeing her in pain. “I can give you somethin’ to take the edge off.”
She shook her head. “Can I stop pressing on this now?”
“Yeah. Let me cover that up.” I threw the pants over my shoulder. Covering a fresh dressing with antibiotic cream, I placed it over the stitches and wrapped her thigh twice with gauze. “Here.” I held out one of the legs of the clean pants so she could step in.
“I can do it.”
“One-handed?”
“I did it yesterday.” With stubborn determination she tugged her shirt down in front of her underwear but otherwise she didn’t budge.
I sighed. “Occasionally the proper Southern manners my mama taught me slip out and I’m the gentleman she raised me to be.” I maintained eye contact. “This is one of those times.”
Despite half her face looking like shit and the fact that I’d just put five large stitches in her, she self-consciously stepped into her pants.
I eased them up past her knees. “Where you from, Siren?”
She pushed my hands away and took over. “Ocala.”
“Your family still there?” I told myself she needed somewhere to go but the thought of her leaving made me want to punch something.
She didn’t answer.
“Only a couple hours’ drive from here,” I commented casually but she still didn’t respond. “Once we get you patched up, you can go home.”
Before I’d even finished my sentence, her entire demeanor changed. Her body went tight, her lips thinned out and she got a determined look on her face. With short, jerky movements, she grabbed her bag and zipped it close. “I can get myself to the clinic. Thanks for the stitches.” She turned toward the door, barely able to put weight on her leg.
“You got a car?” If she did, I doubted she would’ve been on my doorstep.
“I’ll manage.” She hobbled into the store and I followed.
Instead of seeing it for the blessing it was, I was pissed she was walking out. “Clinic’s miles from here.”
“I’ll get a cab.”
I leaned a hip against the front counter and crossed my arms. “Ain’t New York City, darlin’. Cabs don’t wait outside.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“You got any money?” No purse, no wallet in her bag, I didn’t even see a phone when I searched through her shit.
“Thanks for your help.” She’d made it almost to the front door of the shop when Kendall strode in.
“Hey, Nicole.”
I gave Kendall credit, she didn’t even do a double take when she saw Nic’s face.
“Hi,” Nic said wearily.
“Where are you going?” Kendall blocked the door.
Nic’s shoulders slumped. “Can you let me by?”
“Are you going home?”
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get off on the thought of seeing Kendall square off with someone, but Nic? No fucking way. “Kendall,” I warned.
She glared at me. “If you can’t handle this, I will.”
I shrugged like I didn’t give a shit but in truth, I was never going to let Nic get past the front door. “Nic’s a big girl, she can make her own decisions.”
Kendall flipped the closed sign, locked the shop’s door and zeroed in on Nic. “He has a guest room.”
Shit. “Kendall. My office, now.”
With about as much mothering instinct as a black widow, Kendall pointed Nic to the stool behind the counter. “Sit,” she commanded before waltzing toward my office. I barely got the door closed and she let loose. “You can save your friend’s wife from a murderer but you can’t save that girl from a piece of shit like Randy? What’s wrong, hero? Losing your touch?”
Seriously? She was going to compare the two? When Blaze met Layna, she’d been running scared from her parents’ killer. That fucker had been stalking her for three years. Having a cartel member after you was a little different than domestic abuse. I wasn’t discounting Nic’s plight but if Blaze and I hadn’t stepped in and taken the asshole out, Layna would be dead. I knew Blaze asking André for a security detail for his honeymoon wasn’t a good sign but I pushed the thought away and glared at Kendall. “Fuck off.”
“No, you fuck off. Randy called in sick yesterday and today. Candle told him he’d better show tomorrow or he’s out of a job. If you think he won’t come after her, you’re wrong.” She spun toward the door.
All of a sudden, this wasn’t about Nic. “Who was he?”
Her hand froze on the handle.
“Only one thing makes a woman as hard as you.” And it sure as shit wasn’t balls of steel.
Kendall faced me and spoke in a deadly whisper. “You think you know me?”
“Not at all.” And that was the way she kept it. She was secretive as hell about anything personal.
“Good.”
“And I was gonna let it stay that way—until you got in my shit.”
“I got in your shit?” she practically spat.
“A woman comes to me, asks for my help, then wants to leave and you lock the door? Offer my house?” I got in her face. “You better believe you’re gonna explain yourself.” My life was my business, she didn’t get to interfere.
“Oh, come on. You really think she was going to leave?” Kendall deflected. “Where’s she going to go?”
“You better hope it’s nowhere because if she ain’t perched on that stool when I walk outta here, I’m holdin’ you personally responsible.”
Her glare turned up a notch. “She came to the best, right? Talon the Marine. Talon the Savior. Talon the hero.” She spit the words out bitterly. “You think I’m blind? You think I don’t see what you’re trying to do?”
“Look around, sweetheart.” I stretched my arms wide. “I own a fuckin’ surf shop. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less.”
She smirked. “Is that what you tell yourself?”
“I don’t have to tell myself shit because I’m not the one confused.”
“Well, neither am I.” Her face went smug as hell and she dropped her bomb. “You couldn’t save your wife, so now you try to save everyone else.”
Ruthless hate washed over me like a drug. Air burning my lungs, anger coursing through my veins, vise grips on my chest, I couldn’t speak.
“That’s what I thought,” she taunted. “Mr. Rough Edges and Brass Balls has nothing flirty to say to that.”
“You’d fuckin’ like that, wouldn’t you?” My voice off, I leaned toward her. “Rough and hard get you off?”
Eyes burning with disgust, she glared at me. “You couldn’t get me off if you tried.”
“You have no idea what I’m capable off.” My voice went low and threatening. “You ever mention my wife again, don’t step foot in my shop.” I walked out, slamming the door behind me.
Nic glanced up at me with uncertainty.
“Let’s go, Siren.”
UNLOCKING THE PASSENGER DOOR OF my Challenger, I held it open.
Siren stared at the car.
My hand went to my hip. “Need help?”
“No, thank you.” She awkwardly lowered her leg to get in and stumbled.
I grasped her good arm and she sucked in a breath like she was afraid of me. Goddamn it. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“I know, I’m good,” she said in an almost mechanical voice.
I waited till she was settled then I got behind the wheel. Staring straight ahead, I did something I never do. I explained myself. “Kendall likes to push my buttons. I let her because she’s the most reliable employee I’ve ever had. She’s not my girlfriend, she’s not even my friend. I got pissed because she was interferin’.” I looked at her. “Not because she offered my guest room.”
“You don’t have to explain.”
I did anyway
. “I’m not mad at you.”
She nodded. “Thank you for clarifying.”
There was zero emotion in her tone and I wanted to know if it was real. “You always this even?”
Her eyebrows drew together. “I’m sorry?”
“Calm, mild mannered, even tempered,” I explained, describing everything I wasn’t.
“Would you prefer something else?”
“It’s got nothin’ to do with what I prefer. I’m just wonderin’ who the real woman is behind that emotionless front.”
She sighed. “I’m not putting up a front. I’m tired and hurt. Can we please go and get this over with?”
“Yep.” I let out a breath and pulled into traffic. Irritation I could deal with. But that emotionless shit? I’d seen it too many times and it was usually a ticking time bomb. “What story we gonna use?”
“Excuse me?”
“When they ask you at the clinic what happened?”
She thought a moment. “Surfing accident?”
No one would ever buy it. “You look like you’ve been beaten with a two-by-four, not a surfboard.”
Determination filtered into her tone. “I don’t care what anyone thinks.”
I almost smiled. I could tell she wasn’t bullshitting and I admired the fuck out of her for it. “Good for you. Makes life easier.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “The stitches feel tight.”
I glanced at her to see if she was accusing me of something but she was just staring out the window. “Wait till they start itchin’.”
“When does that happen?”
“Coupla days.”
She didn’t respond.
For some reason, her silence bugged me. “What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?”
“You don’t have to flirt with me.”
Her honesty was disarming. “Statin’ fact is all, Siren.”
“I’m not a siren.”
“You’re definitely a siren, in every sense of the word.” I couldn’t leave her alone. I didn’t even want to. If that didn’t spell trouble, I don’t know what the fuck did.
She turned toward the window.
“You done talkin’ to me?”
“Thank you for taking care of my leg.”
The quiet humility in her voice made me feel like an asshole. “Welcome,” I muttered, pulling into the walk-in clinic. “Wait for me. I’ll help you out.”
“Okay,” she said without an ounce of animosity.
I got out the car and took a second to feel the hot sun on my shoulders and center myself. I didn’t know what to make of Siren. Not that I was trying to impress her but I’d also never had to work at conversation with a woman before. If I was smart, I’d get her patched up and on her way then find the nearest piece of ass and fuck myself into oblivion.
The thought leaving a bitter taste in my mouth, I opened her door. Sweeping an arm under her knees, another behind her back, I lifted the nothing weight of her and got slammed with the scent of jasmine.
Trusting and innocent, she curled her arm around my neck. “Thank you.” Her soft voice touched my heart as her sweet breath sent a shot of awareness up my spine.
“Welcome,” I rumbled. “Watch your head.” I pulled her out of the car and set her on her feet but when her injured foot touched the ground, she swayed. “Whoa, darlin’.” My arms wrapped around her and for a split second, I felt like I was home.
“No, no.” Sucking in a breath, she put her hands on my chest. “I can do it.”
Thrown, I let her go. “You hate people helpin’ you,” I said gruffly.
“I’m just not used to it,” she answered frankly.
Not wanting to think about that or the feel of her soft innocence in my arms, I led her inside and had her take a seat. I knew before I’d brought her what I’d be up against, but the hard stare from the elderly receptionist made me grit my teeth.
Eyeing Siren’s face, she handed over a clipboard with paperwork. “Insurance?” she asked briskly.
I smiled my million-dollar smile. “I’m payin’ the good ol’-fashioned way.” I slapped a credit card on the counter.
She rang the card up and handed it back. “Fill out the paperwork and have a seat. We’ll call you when the doctor is ready.”
“Much obliged.” I took my card back and sat down next to Nic. “You right-handed?” I asked quietly.
“Yes.” She glanced at the paperwork but nothing in her expression gave away what she was thinking.
“I’ll fill it out. What’s your full name?”
“Nicole Marie Archer.”
I was right. She was a siren. Her voice was soft and pretty and fuck if I wasn’t thinking about what she’d sound like in my bed. “Date of birth? Social?”
She gave me the numbers.
“You allergic to any meds?”
“No.”
“You currently takin’ anythin’? Any history you want mentioned on here?”
“No,” she said firmly.
I looked up at her, my bullshit detector going off. “Everyone’s got a history.”
“No medications,” she said just as firmly, ignoring me.
Surprised she wasn’t on birth control, I didn’t say shit about the other. I didn’t want to think about her life with that asshole. I filled out the rest of the paperwork, putting my address and phone number. If she noticed, she didn’t mention it.
I got up and handed the info back to the receptionist, who was still glaring at me like I was the one who’d busted up Nic’s face. “You should see what happened to the surfboard,” I joked.
All I got was a nod.
I sat back down and smiled at the receptionist as I draped an arm over Siren’s good shoulder. She stiffened but I brought my lips to her ear. “Lean into me,” I quietly commanded.
Two heartbeats later, she relented.
I gently rubbed her shoulder and tried to ignore how she felt like she belonged under my arm. “How ya doin’?”
“Tired.”
I doubt she got any sleep last night. Neither did I but I’d been trained to handle it. “Close your eyes, darlin’.” I pulled her closer, rested my head against the wall and shut my own eyes. Jesus, that felt good.
“You smell nice,” she said quietly.
She smelled like everything I shouldn’t want. “You comin’ on to me?”
She ignored me. “It’s like coconuts and the beach.”
Plenty of women had paid me the same compliment over the years but coming from this Siren who didn’t flirt or waste words, it meant more than it should. “Surf wax and shampoo. I can’t take the credit.”
“I like it.”
Pretending she didn’t just give me a rush, I looked down at her and lazy smiled. “I’m glad.”
Her head on my shoulder, she studied me. “How come you don’t have a girlfriend?”
I couldn’t help myself, I fingered a strand of her hair. The soft waves fell across my hand like silk. “I thought you said I had a reputation?”
“You do. Is that why you don’t have a girlfriend?”
The question, coming from her, especially while she was curled up against me, wasn’t one I wanted to answer. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes again. “I’m not a one-woman kinda guy.”
“How long were you in the Marines?”
I peeked at her. “We playin’ twenty questions?”
“No.”
I nodded and closed my eyes again. “Six years. My turn. Why didn’t you go home to Ocala?”
“It’s not my home anymore. Why did you leave the Marines?”
Because my wife died and I had a mental fucking breakdown. “Wasn’t into it anymore.”
“Hm.” But it wasn’t an acknowledgement hm, it was an I-know-you’re-lying hm.
“Nicole Archer?”
I stood and pulled Nic up, but when I saw the nurse, I silently cursed.
“Oh.” The nurse faltered. “Hi, Talon.”
Shit. I couldn’t even r
emember her name. But I remembered what she could do with her tongue. “Hey,” I said warily as Nic looked between us.
Thank God Tongue Nurse turned her attention to Nic. With a sympathetic expression, she looked at her face. “That looks painful.”
“Surfing accident,” Nic lied casually.
“It happens.” Tongue Nurse politely nodded and led us into a room but not before giving me the stare of death over her shoulder.
Normally I didn’t give a shit about this type of thing, but with Nic there I felt like a fucking tool. “She’s got a possible scaphoid fracture on her right wrist,” I said, “and I’m concerned about a zygomatic fracture. She needs X-rays.” Holding Nic’s waist, I lifted her onto the exam table.
Tongue Nurse eyed me suspiciously. “You seem familiar with medial terms.”
“He was a medic in the Marines,” Nic supplied.
“Really?” Tongue Nurse stepped forward and started examining Nic. “I’m sure you saw a lot of fractures then.” She turned Nic’s head to the side. “Did you lose consciousness when you hit your head?”
Nic said “No” the same time I said “Yes.”
I glared at her and she caved.
“Maybe for a few seconds,” Nic admitted.
“And this was…” She checked the paperwork. “Yesterday?”
The tone in Tongue Nurse’s voice and the fact that she directed the question at me said it all. “I was out of town until this mornin’ or I would’ve brought her in sooner.” I didn’t know why the hell I was explaining myself.
“Let’s get some X-rays and we’ll have the doctor take a look. Talon, you can wait here.”
Ignoring Tongue Nurse, I helped Nic off the table. “You want me to come with you, darlin’?”
“No, thank you.”
Watching her try not to limp as she walked out of the room made my protective instincts kick into high gear. “I’m comin’ with.” I took a step toward Siren.
Tongue Nurse held a hand out and almost smiled at me. “I’ll take good care of her.”
The door shut before I could react and my cell vibrated in my pocket. When I saw the display, I cursed. “What’s up?”