Call Me Wild

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Call Me Wild Page 18

by Robin Kaye


  “And I was just beginning to believe you’d be okay, and you go and say something like that. Now I’m really worried. Let’s get you inside and have your head examined.”

  “I’m not hurt… well, not badly. And I don’t need my head examined. Unlike some people, I don’t have a problem being rescued every now and then. It’s nice to know I have someone watching my back. So thank you.” He kissed her again and winced when her arm came around his neck.

  “Oh, sorry.”

  “I feel like I got run over by a truck.”

  She wrapped her arm around his waist and led him through the automatic doors.

  A petite blonde nurse looked up when the doors swished open and barreled around the desk. “Doctor Kincaid, what happened to you?”

  Jessie saw the woman’s lips moving. She heard her, but what she said just didn’t compute.

  “Doctor Kincaid?”

  ***

  Whoa, something was way off. Fisher didn’t know what happened, but Jessica stiffened under his arm and shot him a look that had him wondering if he should protect his privates. Jealousy maybe? Sure, Nurse Shaw was a flirt. Hell, she’d made more passes than Tom Brady, Aaron Rodgers, and Peyton Manning put together. It didn’t mean he caught any of them. “Darla, this is my girlfriend, Jessica James. Jess, this is one of the ER nurses I work with when I’m up here, Darla Shaw.”

  “Great.” Jessica tried to pull away from him, but Fisher held on to her. “Now that we’ve all been introduced, and we really know who everyone is, why don’t you go back there and have your head examined?”

  Fisher ignored her mumbling about lying, cheating men. Right now, trying to deal with his headache and the constant ringing in his ears was about all he was good for. “Darla, I need a CT scan. Could you see if they can squeeze me in?”

  Jessica tried to disengage herself again, but Fisher kept his arm firmly around her. The nurse looked at Jessica and then him. “We need to look at that head wound before we do anything else, Doctor. And we’ll need a doctor’s order for the CT scan. You know the rules.”

  “I am a doctor. Just write up the order, and I’ll sign it.”

  “Dr. Kincaid, today you’re not a practicing physician. You’re a patient. Go into exam room six, and I’ll be right with you.”

  Darla had that don’t-give-me-any-shit look about her, so he nodded, and immediately regretted the action as a wave of nausea crashed over him. Damn his head hurt. Keeping his arm firmly around Jessica, he walked her into the ER and headed straight for the bed. He pushed his sore body up, wishing he could just sleep, but knowing Jessica wouldn’t let him. He pulled her up beside him and probed the back of his head, wincing when he encountered the huge goose egg. Damn. No wonder his ears were still ringing.

  Jessica sat rigid and madder than a wet hen. He might as well get this over with. He just hoped it wouldn’t be as painful as the rest of the day had been… or would be. “Okay, what did I do?”

  She speared him with another one of her killer looks. “If you have to ask, maybe you got your brains scrambled worse than I thought.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Look, I don’t remember anything that happened between the time I dove in after you and when I woke up on the couch. So if I did or said anything to piss you off in between, I’m sorry, but I really have no idea what it could be.” Unless he told her he was in love with her. God, wouldn’t that be awkward? But if he had told her, why would she be mad? She didn’t believe in love. She’d be more apt to laugh at him than be mad, wouldn’t she?

  “You and Karma must have had a really good laugh at my expense, Dr. Kincaid. But that’s just fine. I’ll get you out of here, take you home, and that will be the end of it.”

  “The end of what? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “This—you and me and this whole research fiasco.”

  “Darlin’, I know I’m not as sharp as I usually am, but I haven’t a clue as to what you’re talking about. If there’s something going on with Karma, if she said something, you’d better tell me about it. I don’t have anything to do with it. If Karma is laughing at anyone, it’s me. I’m the one who was set up to come out here, remember? Not that I’m complaining. Actually, I owe her a big fat thank you. Now, why don’t you just tell me what the heck is bothering you?”

  “I don’t appreciate being lied to.”

  “To the best of my knowledge, I’ve never lied to you about a blessed thing.”

  “Bullshit. All this time I thought you were a trust fund baby living off your rich grandfather.”

  “Why would you think that?” It made no sense. “Hold on. If you thought that, why did you call me ‘doctor’ when you pulled your hamstring?”

  “I was being facetious!”

  “How was I supposed to know that? And if you thought I was something I’m definitely not, why is that my fault? If you wanted to know what I did, why didn’t you just ask?”

  “Karma knew what I thought, and she never corrected me.”

  “And I’m sure she had a good laugh at both our expenses. It still doesn’t make it my fault. I would think you’d be happy to find out I actually have a real job.”

  Jessie didn’t like feeling like a fool, but she had to admit that maybe it wasn’t Fisher’s fault. Jessie jumped to a lot of conclusions and never did ask him what he did.

  The nurse rolled a cart in and looked at the two of them. “One patient at a time, Dr. Kincaid.”

  Fisher didn’t look too happy to be interrupted. “Fine.”

  Jessie, on the other hand, was relieved. The sooner they got out of here, the sooner she could take him home and leave him in the loving hands of his mother.

  Fisher released Jessie, and she wasted no time sliding off the bed. He grabbed her hand before she could get away—it was as if he’d read her mind and knew that had been her plan. She needed to get away—even for a little while. “I’ll go wait outside.”

  He held tight onto her hand. “Don’t go.”

  The nurse didn’t even try to hide her curiosity. Jessie was sure that Fisher and his new girlfriend would be the subject of the next week’s hospital gossip.

  Jessie gave up her plan for an escape and stood when the doctor came in.

  “Fisher.” A hand came through the curtain and pushed it aside. “I heard you were giving Nurse Shaw a hard time.” The doctor stepped through with a smile on his weathered face. His hair was gray, and he had some age on him, but his body and bright blue eyes belonged on someone much younger. The man was in amazing shape.

  “Dr. Roger Gilg, this is my girlfriend, Jessica James. Jess, Roger’s a neurologist, and we ski together whenever we get the chance.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Jessie shook his hand and tried to get away again, to no avail. The doctor asked questions about how long Fisher had been unconscious, how disoriented he’d been, and how his motor skills were affected afterward—things only Jessie could answer. He ordered a CT scan and had the nurse clean the wound, before he closed the small gash with a few stitches. All the while Fisher stared into Jessie’s eyes. The only time he let her go was when they took him for a CT scan.

  Relieved, Jessie went to the waiting room and took a seat. She stared into space and tried to see Fisher as a doctor. Hell, she didn’t even know what kind of doctor he was—not that it mattered. Though it did answer a lot of questions, like how he seemed to know her body even better than she did.

  She picked up the hospital’s brochure and paged through it. There was list of doctors, and there on the second page was a picture of Fisher. Fisher Kincaid, Doctor of Orthopedics. She read that he did his residency and sports medicine fellowship at Rush in Chicago, which explained the Chicago number on his satellite phone. He was even board certified. Wow, had she ever been wrong about him being a bum. It didn’t happen often, and she wondered why she’d been so quick to jump to negative conclusions about Fisher. What did that say about her?

  “Ms. James?”

  Jessie stood when s
he heard her name. Dr. Gilg walked toward her. “Fisher’s fine.” He said quickly, even before she could ask.

  “Good.”

  “He’s refusing to let us admit him. He said he’s in good hands and just wants to go home.”

  “Is that a good idea, Doctor?”

  “Roger, please.” He smiled and sat, patting the chair beside him. Jessie joined him, and he looked her over. “How are you doing?”

  “Me?” What was he getting at? “I’m fine. Fisher’s the one who took a blow to the head.”

  “He has a third-degree concussion. He also told us that you somehow got him out of the river. He’s a big man. That couldn’t have been easy.”

  “That’s an understatement, but except for a few sore muscles, I’m fine.”

  The doctor removed a bunch of papers from a file. “Here’s how this is going to work. Fisher’s been given acetaminophen for pain. I don’t want to give him anything stronger.”

  “Okay.”

  “The directions are all on here.” He handed her the release orders. “You’ll need to wake him every hour for the first twenty-four hours and make sure his eyes are dilated equally. If he vomits, I want to know about it. It’s not unusual, but we want to monitor him.”

  “Great.”

  “Problem?” Roger raised a bushy eyebrow and waited.

  Jessie wrapped her arms around herself to quell a sudden chill. “No problem.” She got Fisher into this mess, she figured she could babysit him for twenty-four hours.

  “He’ll need to stay in bed for the next three days. He’ll have some dizziness, and he shouldn’t do anything more strenuous than walking back and forth from the bed to the bathroom. And knowing Fisher the way I do, you’ll have to make sure he takes it easy.”

  “Sure, I can do that.” Or his mother can. When the doctor rose, she followed.

  “He’s waiting for you in cubicle six. Here’s my card. Give me a call if you have any questions or concerns.”

  She took the card and stuck it in her jeans pocket. “Thanks. I appreciate your help.”

  He smiled, looking a whole lot younger. “No, thank you. Fisher’s been a godsend to us here at the hospital. We’re all very relieved to know he’s in good hands, and we’re grateful for your quick thinking. From what Fisher said, this could have turned out very differently if you hadn’t been there to save him.” He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Unfortunately, I think rescuing him will seem easy compared to keeping him quiet for the next three days. Good luck, Jessica.”

  “Thanks, Doc. I have a feeling I’ll need it.”

  ***

  Jessie called Karma to update her on Fisher’s condition. It sounded as if Karma was hard at work with a full bar, so Jessie didn’t say much more than he had a concussion and was expected to make a full recovery. It wasn’t as if she would ask Karma for help.

  On the way back to Hunter’s cabin, she made a plan. She packed their things before locking the house behind her. If she had to wake Fisher every hour on the hour, she might as well drive back to Boise. At least there was takeout in Boise, so she’d have something to eat, and once she dropped Fisher off at his house, his mother would be able to take care of him and follow the doctor’s orders—letting her off the hook.

  She needed to get back to work and get her book written. The last thing she needed was to play nursemaid. She so wasn’t the type.

  She drove from the cabin to the highway, past her beloved Mini. She made a mental note to somehow get it towed to the dealership and raid her savings account to get the darn thing fixed. This whole trip had been one disaster after another.

  By the time she pulled up in front of Fisher’s house, it was three in the morning. She’d already woken him up three times and was too tired to even think straight. All the house lights were off. She took the keys out of the car, left Fisher sleeping, and went to unlock the front door, hoping to wake Fisher’s mother and give her instructions, before she passed out herself.

  She banged her way into the house, turned on the lights, and went in search of Fisher’s mom. The downstairs bedroom was empty, so she ran upstairs and found the two other bedrooms empty too. Where in the hell was Fisher’s mother?

  Jessie went to the car, opened the passenger door, and smiled when she heard Fisher’s snore. His head had rolled back, and he was drooling. It was nice to know that he wasn’t totally perfect. “Fisher, wake up. You’re home.”

  When he opened his eyes, he smiled the sweetest smile, and his hand came up and caressed her cheek. “You’re so beautiful, Jessica James.”

  “Are you sure they didn’t give you drugs at the hospital?”

  “Positive.” He wiped the drool off the corner of his mouth on his sleeve and fumbled for the seat belt. She reached over him and unbuckled it, and the next thing she knew, he was kissing her. He pulled away, looked into her eyes, and pressed his forehead to hers. “Are you still mad at me?”

  “No. It wasn’t your fault. I should have asked you what you did instead of making assumptions. Let’s get you inside. It’s late, and I’m beat.”

  He held onto the door and stepped out slowly. She wrapped her arm around his waist and let him set the pace. “Where’s your mother?”

  “Mom? She’s probably home. Why?”

  “Well, I looked in all three bedrooms, and she’s not here.”

  “Why would she be?”

  She held open the screen door. “Because she lives with you… or you live with her.”

  Fisher let out a laugh as he headed toward the back of the house. “God, don’t tell me you thought I lived with my mother too? It’s no wonder you didn’t want to go out with me.” He laughed so hard, he ended up having to lean against the wall. His hand went to his head, and he laughed and cringed at the same time.

  Jessie crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay, it’s not that funny.”

  “Sure it is. What the heck did you do? Tell Karma you thought I was a bum who lived with his mother?”

  “Well, yeah.” And she was sure Karma was still laughing about it.

  “What made you think that? I brought you here, and you practically skinny-dipped in my hot tub.”

  “Have you looked at your house lately?” She motioned to the kitchen and shook her head. “The place looks like an advertisement for Merry Maids, it’s so spotless. Even your linen closet looks like Martha Stewart came over and folded everything in it. And you said your mom did the gardening. What was I supposed to think?”

  “So, I like a clean house. I thought women liked that.”

  “We do. We just assume your mom comes in and takes care of it for you.”

  He slid farther down the hall along the wall and turned into his bedroom. “Well, darlin’, you have a lot to learn about my mother. She’s been making us clean since we were in diapers. No one got out of it. Even Karma had to clean—of course, she gave it up as soon as she moved out of the house, but she knows how to do it. Mom likes to garden, so she comes over and plants flowers, but everything else is up to me.”

  “That’s just great. Since your mom doesn’t live here, it looks as if you’re stuck with me.”

  “I already told you. I like being stuck with you.” He slipped off his shoes and dropped his pants. He tried kicking them up to catch them and missed. “Damn. I’m afraid to bend down to pick them up.”

  “I’ll get them. I suppose you put your shoes away too.”

  “Yeah, in the closet on the shoe rack.”

  Jessie picked up his pants and his shoes. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re OCD?”

  “All of my roommates. But then, I always cleaned up after them, so they didn’t complain too much.”

  “At least not to your face.”

  Fisher held onto the edge of the bed and then the wall as he walked into the bathroom.

  “Do you need help? Are you dizzy?”

  “No and yes. I’m fine.” He shut the door, and she waited for him to come out, picturing him passing out the whole ti
me he was in there. By the time he walked back, his face was pale.

  She checked her watch. “It’s time for more acetaminophen. Lie down, and I’ll get our stuff out of the car and bring you some water or something.”

  By the time she got back inside, he was snoring again. She set her cell phone’s alarm for an hour and stripped out of her clothes, too tired to even throw on a fresh T-shirt, and climbed in beside him.

  Every hour on the hour she woke him up, turned on the lights, checked his pupils, and then tried to get back to sleep. When she woke him up at eight in the morning, she felt as if she hadn’t slept for three days straight. She set the alarm, rolled over, and like every other time, Fisher pulled her against him, spooning her, one hand holding her breast, the other on her stomach.

  ***

  Karma pulled her Jeep out of the driveway on her way to check on Fisher and Jessie when her mother’s ringtone blared from her cell phone. Shit. It was twenty minutes after ten, she hadn’t gotten out of the bar until after three, and now her mother was on the phone. “Hi, Mom.”

  She drove through the North End and listened to her mother’s worries about Fisher. “Mom, I told you last night, Jessie’s taking good care of him. The doctor just told her to wake him up and check his pupils every hour.”

  Shaking her head, she remembered that her mother couldn’t see her—well, not that she knew of, at least. “Look, they didn’t get in until late, and I’m sure they’re both exhausted. The last thing they need right now is people coming over at weird o’clock in the morning to check on them. Let them get some rest.”

  Karma ran her hand through her hair, which smelled like smoke. She’d been too tired to shower before bed like she usually did.

  “You told the boys? All of them?” She cringed. “What exactly did you tell them?”

  She turned on to Fisher’s street and cursed when she saw both Ben and Hunter’s cars parked in front of Fisher’s house. “Oh, no. God, Mom. Fisher’s gonna kill me. I’ve gotta go.”

  Chapter 13

  Light poured into Fisher’s bedroom, and even with his eyes closed, the brightness made his headache worse. He groaned and slid Jessica’s body closer to his, pulling the sheet over their heads.

 

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