The Perfect Kiss Chapter Four
Well, she'd wanted to get Lewis alone. But she could do without the unbelievable pain in her ankle. And Lewis's obvious rush to get rid of her and back to the party. Though, bless him, he was trying to hide it from her.
"Isn't there some way you can elevate it?" he asked as they drove from the Club to the hospital. "If I'd been thinking, I'd have put you in the back seat, so you could've had it up. "
His brow furrowed and she knew he was doing the mental "stupid, stupid, stupid" that he did when he realized he could have thought of a better way. It was that look which made her first fall for Lewis. Or maybe it was the head tilt while he was thinking.
"I'll try," she said and raised her leg to rest her heel on the top of the dashboard. The slit in her dress fell all the way open. She tried a couple of times to pull the bottom of her hem back up and tuck it around her foot, but it kept slipping, and damn her ankle hurt. She let it fall. "There. Elevated. "
He looked over at her, and it was hard to tell by the dashboard lights, but she didn't think he looked all that long at her foot. Her leg, he looked plenty.
Okay, Darce, it wasn't how you might have wanted it, but you have the man of your dreams alone on New Year's Eve. You better not waste this opportunity.
She bent forward and gently touched her ankle. Then, ever so slowly, she ran her hand up her calf to her thigh. She didn't look at Lewis, but she could tell by the slight swerving of the car that he'd noticed.
So, maybe he could think of her as more than a sister.
He cleared his throat. "Good. Yes. Keep it like that until we get to the hospital. " He cleared his throat again. "Just like that. "
Oh, there was no way she was going to put her foot down.
Unfortunately-or maybe fortunately, since she really was in a lot of pain-the hospital was on the same side of town as the Club and the ride didn't last for long. As they pulled into the drive, Lewis brought the car to a stop.
"What are you thinking?" she asked, seeing the tilt of his head.
"If I should drop you at the entrance, then go park. Or, if I should park and carry you in. "
"Well. . . " She did like being in his arms.
"If I drop you off, what? They'll have somebody there to hold you up? Put you in a wheelchair or something? But what if they don't? What? You're going to do your flamingo dance while I find a parking spot? But if I park first, the-"
"Lewis, park," she said and he turned into the parking lot and tried to find a spot. When he started doing "what ifs", he could go on for hours. Normally she loved how his mind worked and could follow right along with him-a fact which scared her in its own way-but her ankle was now twice its normal size.
And she really did like being in his arms.
She could hear the wind howling as he pulled into a spot and cut the engine. She wished she'd opted for being dropped off, flamingo dance and all. Well, crap. The wind was going to totally kill her killer hair.
She handed Lewis his jacket, but he shook his head. "You keep it. Wrap yourself tight, it's really cold out now. "
She started to burrow deeper into his jacket, loving that it smelled just like Lewis.
"Wait. Let me," he said and took the jacket from her. "Bend down a little. " She followed his instructions and was encased in darkness as he draped the coat over her head and around her arms. She felt him slide his hands under her butt and knees. His hands stilled for a moment, and she was certain she felt the tiniest of squeezes. Then, ever so gently, she was being lifted into his arms.
She was bummed she couldn't look up into his face as he carried her across the lot, but very happy he'd thought to protect her hair.
And so unlike Lewis to have realized not getting her hair wrecked by the wind would matter to her.
The wind whipped against them and he picked up his pace. She heard the whoosh of doors opening and then blessed heat as they entered the emergency room. Two sets of footsteps approached.
"What've we got? Burn victim? Car crash?" A young, male voice said, with almost with joyful anticipation.
Darcy uncovered herself just as Lewis said, "Sprained ankle. " Yep, it was definite disappointment in the guy's eyes.
"Put her over there. We'll get to you. " He turned and walked away, his white coat-that kid was old enough to be a doctor?-flapping against his legs.
"Come on, honey, follow me," a nurse who'd been standing with the retreating doctor said to them as she led the way to a row of plastic chairs and a registration desk area. She was short, squat and black, with her hair cropped close to her head. Of indeterminate age, she looked like she had just stepped out of Central Casting for any medical show as the tough, no-nonsense, seen-it-all, take-no-crap nurse.
Darcy was relieved. Those nurses were the ones who really ran the show, at least on TV. She'd be in good hands with this one.
"Y'all take a seat and I'll bring you your paperwork. " The nurse motioned to the row of empty chairs and moved on to the desk area. "It shouldn't take too long to get to you, it's pretty quiet right now. The real craziness won't be 'til later. " She looked at Darcy and shook her head. "Lord, we'll see some idiots tonight, that's for sure. "
"Really?"
"Mmm-hmm," she answered as she gathered up forms on a clipboard from behind the desk. "New Year's Eve is one of the busiest nights in an ER. Even in a town the size of Henderson. " She looked up at them. "Boy, sit that girl down. She can't be filling out paperwork wrapped up in your arms. " She mumbled something under her breath that Darcy thought was something like "Not that they're not fine arms," but Lewis didn't hear her. He was looking at the rows of empty chairs, his head tilted.
"Lewis, sit," Darcy said, and he did, with her settling in his lap. And what a lovely lap it was, his thighs firm and strong beneath her. She kept one arm looped around his shoulder, her meager-but highlighted in the magic dress-breasts pressed to his chest.
She looked up at him and froze. It was Lewis, of course, her Lewis, but with a look on his face she'd never seen before. And she knew all his looks.
"You're all. . . windblown," she said. Her voice, unsure at his look, came out as a whisper.
"You're all. . . all. . . "
"Yes?"
"Soft. And warm," he said, then shifted in the hard plastic chair, causing Darcy to settle deeper into him.
"Here, take your jacket back," she started to remove the warm tent, but he squeezed her, stopping her movement. And her breath.
"No, you keep it. Stay warm. You could be going into shock or something. "
She was in Lewis's arms, pressed against his strong body, his white dress shirt crisp against his wiry but definitely muscular frame. "Shock. Yes, you're right," she replied.
He started to loosen his hold on her, and she looped her arm tighter around his neck to help him move her to her own chair. "It's okay," he soothed. "I've got you. " He cradled her closer.
She was never one to play the helpless female card. She didn't even know what that card looked like, but she burrowed even tighter into him. "Okay. " She brushed her hand against his collar feeling both the cotton of his shirt and his smooth, glossy hair.
The nurse came back to them brandishing a clipboard filled with forms. "Don't suppose you got an insurance card in that itty bitty purse of yours?"
Darcy held up the beaded bag she'd completely forgotten about, its cord thankfully wrapped around her wrist or who knows where it would have ended up when she fell. "Lipstick, perfume and hairspray. "
"Hmmph. Well, at least you've got the important stuff covered," she said, but there was no censure in her voice. In fact, she almost cracked a smile.
"I do have insurance. I know the company and all that, but not, like, the member number or anything," Darcy told her.
"Fill out what you can. We'll get the rest squared away later. "
"Thanks. . . "
"Georgie. "
"Georgie. I'm Da
rcy, this is Lewis. "
"Nice to meet y'all. Now fill out those forms," she nodded at the clipboard then went back to the desk area.
Darcy hated to admit it, but she couldn't use her right hand to fill out the forms while it was still looped around Lewis's neck. "I guess you should put me in a chair of my own," she reluctantly said.
"Right. Sure," he answered, then carefully stood and gently swung her around to sit in the chair that had been next to theirs. "Can you keep it up?" he asked, looking at her ankle then the hard chairs, which were separated by a metal bar. The formed plastic was obviously made for people to face forward. She tried turning to her side so she could put her bum ankle up on the seat next to her, but the hard ridge dug into her butt.
"That's not going to work. It'll be okay for the time it'll take before they can see me. "
Lewis went down on one knee before her. How many times had she imagined that in her life. . . minus the overwhelming stench of antiseptic, of course. "I don't know, Munchkin, it's really huge. "
"Darcy. Is it really ugly looking?" she asked, hoping he could be un-Lewis like for just one moment.
"Yes. God, it's hideous. Swollen twice its size and-what? What's so funny?"
"Oh, Lewis. . . nothing. " She shook her head and looked at him. She couldn't not touch him, her funny, brilliant, socially clueless, Lewis. Her hand brushed his hair away from his face. Expensive cut or no, his locks always had a mind of their own. Her hand lingered, sliding down his cheek. She finally pulled her hand away and watched as his head tilted.
Good. Let him think about that.
Countdown To A Kiss A New Years Eve Anthology Page 36
