by Becca Van
“I’m sorry your mate is sick, but I’m happy you’ve found her.” Emmy frowned. “Is she mate to your brothers, too?”
“She is.”
“Wow, that’s good. What’s her name?”
“I don’t know. I found her almost passed out in her car,” Tatum replied.
“Did you think to check if she had a purse? Who’s looking after her? What if she’s allergic to something and the doctor treating her inadvertently gives her medication that’ll make her sick?”
Tatum stood, spun on his heel, and hurried out the door. Why the hell hadn’t he thought of any of that? He answered his own question as he jogged toward his mate’s car. He’d been sucker punched when he’d first scented her, and then he’d been too concerned about her condition to think straight.
When he reached her car, he pulled the driver’s side door open and reached in for the small purse on the passenger seat. As he lifted it out, he gazed at the other things in her car. She looked as if she had all her worldly possessions on the back seat. Not that there was much, but still. Suspicion reared its ugly head, and for a second or two Tatum wondered if his woman was on the run from the law. He pushed that thought aside. It didn’t matter. He didn’t give a shit, as long as she hung around Ambrose so that he and his brothers could get to know her and court her.
“Here, give it to me.”
Tatum glanced toward the pavement to find Emmy, Declan, and Jett staring at him. He’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t even heard them following him and he hadn’t smelled them. He had a feeling he was going to be very distracted until he knew his woman was going to be all right.
“I can look.” Tatum lifted the purse out of reach when Emmy made a grab for it.
“Women are funny about their purses,” Emmy said as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Do you really want to piss your mate off by starting on the wrong foot before you’ve even started wooing her?”
Tatum gritted his teeth. “I don’t care if she’s pissed or not. All that matters is that we find out who she is, and make sure Broden isn’t going to make her more ill than she already is.” He slammed the door closed and moved toward the front of the car and upended the contents of the purse on the hood.
“What’s Broden got to do with anything?” Emmy asked as she came to stand beside him.
“You don’t know?” Tatum quirked an eyebrow at her.
Jett and Declan moved until they were standing behind and on either side of Emmy.
“Broden’s our town doctor,” Declan whispered in Emmy’s ear as he wrapped an arm around her waist.
Emmy glanced up at him over her shoulder and scowled. “Why am I just finding this out now? Y’all could’ve told me a couple of months ago.”
Jett leaned down and kissed Emmy on the cheek. “We didn’t think about it, love. Sorry.”
“How come he doesn’t work at his office every day? Come to think on it, where is his office?”
Declan grasped Emmy’s shoulders and turned her around and then pointed to the building next to the diner. “Right there, baby.”
“There’s no need for him to man the clinic-come-hospital, love,” Jett said. “We’re all shifters and don’t get sick.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Emmy grinned before turning back to glance at Tatum.
He ignored the others as he stared at his mate’s driver’s license. Her name was Pixie Vesper. She was five feet even and weighed ninety pounds. He was mesmerized by her gorgeous green eyes and long brown hair, but it was the smile curving her lips and the twinkle of mischief in her beautiful eyes that had his half-hard cock twitching in his pants. She was so fucking stunning and so damn tiny, his breath hitched in his throat. He closed his eyes as he remembered how it had felt to have her in his arms. He’d barely felt her weight at all.
“What are you doing?” Rex asked as he and Shaffer exited the diner.
“Getting information on our mate,” Tatum answered.
“And?” Shaffer quirked a brow.
“Her name’s Pixie Vesper. She’s twenty-five years old and she’s originally from Denver, Colorado.” Tatum shifted his gaze to Emmy. “As far as I know she doesn’t have any allergies. There are no medical alert cards.”
“Well, at least that’s something. How’s Broden going to help her?” Emmy asked.
“He’s operating on her.”
“He’s a surgeon?”
“Yes, baby, he is.” Declan smiled.
“Do you think you could sit with me after Broden’s finished operating?” Tatum asked. “I don’t want her getting scared when she wakes up surrounded by men.”
Emmy nodded as she met Tatum’s gaze before looking at Rex and Shaffer. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for all of you to be there when she regains consciousness. You’re all so big and more than a little intimidating.”
“We already had this discussion with Broden,” Rex explained.
“Oh, well, okay then.” Emmy smiled.
Tatum began putting Pixie’s things back into her purse and wondered if he should put it back into her car. He mentally shook his head. Women liked to have their purses with them wherever they went. He didn’t think his mate would be any different. “I’m going to sit in the waiting room. I’ll let you know when she wakes up, but we’re going to need to take turns visiting with her.”
“No, we won’t.” Rex crossed his arms over his chest. “When Broden gives her the all clear, we’re going to take her home with us and look after her while she recovers.”
“That’s a given.” Tatum nodded to his brothers as well as Jett and Declan before heading toward the clinic. He wanted to be on hand as soon as Pixie opened her eyes.
He just hoped that she would give him and his siblings an opportunity to get to know her.
Tatum had a feeling that if she wasn’t sick, he would never have had the chance the fates had just handed him. As much as he hated that she was ill and would be in pain after getting her appendix out, if she hadn’t been ailing, she might never have stopped in Ambrose. Then he would have spent years pining for what the polar bear shifters, Declan, Brooks, and Jett, had with their mate, Emmy.
Everything he’d ever dreamed about had just been handed to him on the virtual silver platter, and he was going to use all of his energy to make sure Pixie was taken care of. In the meantime, he hoped she came to care for him and his brothers as much as he already cared for her.
If she decided to leave once Broden had given the all clear, Tatum wasn’t sure what he’d do.
Chapter Two
Pixie frowned when she heard a loud, high-pitched, incessant beeping. She had no idea what the noise was and wished she could tell whoever was making the racket to stop it. Her head was pounding and her mouth was drier than a desert. She felt as if she had cotton wool stuffed into her mouth soaking up any saliva her body managed to produce. Her mind was foggy, and while she knew there was something she was supposed to remember, the niggling at the back of her mind wouldn’t cooperate and come front and center.
Her right side down low near her hip was hurting, and while she wanted to move to try and relieve the pain, she couldn’t get her heavy limbs to cooperate with her brain.
“Open your eyes for me, Pixie!” a deep bass voice ordered.
She frowned as she tried to figure out if she knew the man, but she didn’t think she’d ever heard that voice before.
“Come on, honey, open those pretty eyes for me.”
She jerked when she heard an angry yowl and moaned when the movement pulled at her burning side.
“Cut it out, Tatum. I’m just doing my fucking job. If you can’t hold it together, then you need to leave,” the man with the deep voice said.
“Everything’s going to be okay now, Pixie,” a woman said in a soft voice. “Broden got to you just in time.”
Pixie forced her heavy lids up and blinked to clear the haze from her eyes. She stared up at the big man hovering over her and frowned.
�
Pixie licked her dry lips and turned her gaze to the other side when she caught movement from the corner of her eye. A tall woman was smiling at her.
“Hi, Pixie. I’m Emmy Warren. How are you feeling?”
“S-sore,” she answered. Her voice came out raspy because her throat was so dry.
“Get out of the way, Broden.”
Pixie glanced toward the gruff-voiced man and gasped when she set her gaze on him. He was huge all over. He had a full head of russet-colored hair. His shoulders were wide and his chest was so broad and muscular it was almost barrel-shaped. His torso tapered down, and even though he was wearing a loose-fitting T-shirt, when he moved the soft material clung to his stomach and washboard abs. His thighs were thick and brawny, and his legs were so long they seemed to go on forever. When her gaze had wandered down his body as far as she could see, she took the return journey and stared at his face. He was handsome in a rugged, wild masculine way, but what had her heart rate picking up were his amber-hued leonine eyes. She’d never seen eyes that color before, and as they gazed at each other, she swore he could see right into her heart and soul. Her nipples hardened and her pussy clenched with arousal, but thankfully, she was too tired for the desire coursing through her blood to take up more of an ache.
“This is Tatum King,” Emmy introduced. “He and his brothers own and run the Ambrose diner.”
While Pixie tried to drag her eyes away from the big, handsome, muscular man, she just couldn’t seem to manage it. There was something about him that made her sit up and take notice, but she quickly quelled her attraction. She didn’t have the time or the inclination for a fling or a relationship. Not when she had danger shadowing her.
“Here you go, baby,” Tatum said as he slipped a hand in under her neck and gently lifted her head while holding a cup of water to her mouth. She sipped the water a few times until the dryness in her mouth and throat was quenched.
“Thank you.” She sighed with relief when Tatum removed his hand from under her neck. Broden moved up next to the big man and stared down at her. Fear had her heart slamming against her sternum, and that incessant beeping got faster. It was then that Pixie noticed she was hooked up to a heart monitor and she had a catheter in the back of her hand. She didn’t want to ask the doctor what was wrong with her, but he was the only medical professional in the room as far as she could tell. She shifted her gaze to Emmy. “Are you a nurse?”
“No. Tatum thought I should be here when you woke up so that you weren’t frightened.”
“Why are you scared?” Tatum asked in that deep growly voice. “You have nothing to fear from anyone living in this town.”
Pixie nodded to placate the big guy, hoping he’d be distracted from asking anymore questions with her nonverbal agreement, but she couldn’t help glancing at Broden nervously. Her last experience with a doctor had been terrifying, and she’d vowed to never set foot in a doctor’s office or hospital again. Looked like she’d unknowingly broken that vow.
Doc Broden moved aside when the big man shoulder checked him, and Pixie couldn’t help sighing with relief.
“Why can I smell fear on you, Pixie?”
“W-what?”
Emmy moved closer to the bed and clasped her hand in hers. “What Tatum meant to ask was, why are you scared of Broden? You were looking at him as if he had two heads or something.”
“I was?” Pixie asked, stalling for time. What did Tatum mean he could smell fear on me? What the hell is going on here? No one could smell fear. Could they?
“You might not have realized it, but when Broden got close to you, you cringed away from him. Are you scared of him because he’s so big, or because he’s a doctor?” Emmy asked.
“Uh,” she hedged, trying to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind. She quickly changed the subject instead. “Why am I here?”
“You don’t remember?” Tatum asked.
Pixie frowned. All she could remember was feeling sick to her stomach and agony ripping through her side. “I was in pain and feeling ill, but that’s all I can recall.”
“You drove your car into town as if you’d been drinking for days. Thankfully, you managed to pull into a parking space just before you passed out,” Tatum explained.
“Oh God. Did I hurt anyone?”
“No. You weren’t going very fast, baby.”
“How long have you been feeling unwell, Pixie?” Broden asked.
“A few days to a week.”
“Why didn’t you seek medical treatment?”
Pixie glanced away and shrugged. She wasn’t about to tell these people, who were strangers to her, why she was terrified of doctors. Even though she knew she shouldn’t lump all doctors into one basket, she just couldn’t seem to bring herself to cease being cautious.
“How long have I been here?”
“About six hours,” Tatum replied.
She sucked in a deep breath and forced herself to meet Broden’s gaze. Although he had a stoic expression on his face, she could see the concern for her in his eyes. “How long before you release me?”
“It’s going to take you at least a week to feel semi-normal,” Broden began. “I cut you open and removed your appendix. The stitches will dissolve in about seven to ten days depending on how quickly you heal. You won’t be able to do anything strenuous for a couple of weeks. Driving while you’ve still got drugs in your system is out of the question.”
“How long before they clear from my blood?” Pixie asked, hoping she could be on her way before a week was out, but she had a feeling she was clutching at straws.
“Two weeks minimum.”
Pixie hadn’t realized she was tense until she flopped back onto the pillow and closed her eyes. She was so tired and suspected the anesthesia Broden had used to put her to sleep so he could operate on her, was the reason. Also, she didn’t want these people seeing the fear in her eyes.
If Emery Jones managed to find her while she was recuperating, she was a dead woman.
Pixie jerked when a big, warm, callused hand wrapped around hers. The movement hurt her side and the stitches pulled, but instead of crying out with pain, she bit her tongue until she tasted blood. Tears formed under her closed eyelids and rolled down her cheeks before she could stop them. Her life was a mess, and this was just one more spanner thrown into the works. Sometimes all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and cry her eyes out, but that was a luxury she hadn’t afforded herself.
She’d learnt a long time ago that tears never solved anything, even if weeping was sometimes cathartic.
“What has you so frightened, baby?” Tatum asked.
Pixie struggled to get her heavy lids open, but she won the battle with sheer determination and snatched her hand out of Tatum’s grasp. His palm was rough, and she wondered if he worked with his hands because they felt like the pad of a dog’s paw, or something. She pushed that silly thought from her mind and glared up at him as best she could from under her half-closed eyelids. “I’m not scared,” she snarled out the lie. “I’m in pain because I’ve just had surgery.”
Broden shifted on his feet, gaining her attention. He met her gaze with a chagrined grimace. “On a scale of one to ten, what would you rate your pain level at?”
“Seven,” she answered honestly and then glanced at the catheter in her hand. She followed the tube to the bag of clear fluid hanging on a stand.
“I haven’t given you any painkillers yet because I wanted to make sure you weren’t allergic to anything. Are you?” Broden asked.
“No.”
“Good. I’ll be back in a minute to give you something for the pain.”
Pixie nodded and then groaned as her aching head protested the movement. She was sore all over, and while she hated taking medication of any sort, right now she wasn’t about to quibble with the doctor. She wanted those painkillers. Yesterday!
“Where were you heading, Pixie?” Emmy asked.
“Nowhere,” she replied before she could think about a response. She let her heavy eyelids close and hoped that Emmy and Tatum didn’t start giving her the third degree. She wasn’t in any frame of mind to handle them or to think about her answers. The anesthetic in her system were already wreaking havoc on her thought processes. It was going to be worse when Broden returned with whatever he’d gone to get. “Where can I stay?” She frowned when she heard the slurred question. That hadn’t sounded like her own voice at all.
“You don’t need to worry about that right now, Pixie. You just rest and concentrate on getting better. We’ll take good care of you, baby.” Tatum brushed a few strands of hair off of her cheek. It had been so long since she’d had gentle human contact it was hard for her to resist the urge to nuzzle into the big, warm hand, but resist she did. She was already vulnerable enough as it was and wasn’t about to make herself look even more so.
She was so tired she didn’t even flinch when Broden swabbed her arm with an antiseptic wipe.
“A small sting, Pixie.”
She tried to nod but wasn’t sure if she’d managed to. Her arm stung where Broden inserted the needle into her flesh. She felt the liquid medicine being injected and moving quickly through her blood. Her body grew even heavier and she sank into sleep seconds later.
* * * *
“How is she?” Rex asked the second Tatum entered the diner.
“Sleeping.”
“Is she all right?” Shaffer asked.
“Yeah. Broden said the operation was a success.” Tatum frowned.
“Then why are you still worried?” Rex crossed his arms over his chest.
“She’s hiding something.”
“Like what?” Rex frowned.
“I’m not sure, but one thing I am certain of, is that she’s petrified of Broden.”
“Do you think his size and gruff mannerisms scare her?” Shaffer rubbed the back of his neck.
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