Chapter 26

Snatching a clean pair of panties, she shut the drawer and turned. The room spun again. "Wow. It's like being drunk, but not as fun."

He growled and took the items from her. "Stubborn as shit woman. And you're lucky I'm so relieved you're awake that I'll give you whatever you want." He wrapped his arm around her waist. "Come on."

They walked into the bathroom and he set her clothes on the toilet lid. While she grimaced at herself in the mirror, he started filling the tub. He studied the products on the shelf, then dumped in half a bottle of bubble bath.

He did a double-take at her grin. "What?"

"Nothing." Adorable man. She refocused on her image and wished she hadn't. "Lord, I look like crap." A bandage covered a good part of her forehead, her hair was matted and stringy, and she could fill a grocery cart with the bags under her eyes.

"At the risk of sounding like a sap, having your eyes open and you out of bed is the best thing I've seen in days."

"Aw. Be sappy more often."

"Scare the shit out of me less often and I'll consider it."

She met his gaze in the mirror, weary and worried, and her shoulders sank. "I'm sorry. It was obviously an accident, but I'm sorry."

Saying nothing, he stepped behind her and, with his hands on her waist, gently turned her around to face him. He raised his arms and framed her face with his bulging biceps to get at her bandage.

"Doc said this could come off, but you should try to keep the stitches dry." Dark gaze on his task, he peeled the tape away and removed the pad. The bandage fell from his fingers into the sink and he froze. "Christ," he muttered and, with a shaking hand, ran his fingertips over her eyebrow, gingerly inching closer to her hairline. After a moment, his throat worked a swallow and he blinked.

"You have really pretty eyes." His lids were soft, downturned, kind of like a puppy. Sometimes, like now, the color looked like chocolate. In the sunlight, golden flecks swam in his irises. And at night, they were as dark as the sky and twice as haunting. Adding to the punch were his long, thick lashes that only managed to draw more attention to the potency. "I like looking at them."

A wrinkle formed between his brows as he met her gaze. He swept a strand of hair from her face and let his hand linger on her jaw. "You're one to talk. There isn't a name in the color spectrum for yours." He shook his head as if dumbstruck. "And it's really good to see them again."

Now that she got a good look at him, she realized the level of worry he must've been under. "You look exhausted."

"Yeah, well, I haven't slept much." He skimmed his fingers down her arm and removed a bandaid on her inner arm she hadn't noticed.

"What's that from?"

"Doc put in an IV yesterday. Fluids and an antibiotic."

Lord, she had been out of it. "I don't normally get sick. Must've been a doozy."

"Falling in a creek and spending hours in the elements will do that." His gaze flicked to hers as he tossed the items in the garbage. When he looked at her once more, there was utter submission in his eyes. "You spiked a temperature we couldn't bring down. One hundred and four at its worst."

Wow. "I"

A knock came at the door. "Olivia? It's Hank. Can I come in?"

Nate leaned over and shut off the bathwater, then opened the door.

Hank eyed Nate and flung her long black hair over her shoulder. "Nakos said you were up and at 'em. How are you doing?"

"Good. Better, thanks."

Nate leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms. "She can barely stand. Got dizzy and almost went down."

Nodding, Hank kept her focus on Olivia. "That's to be expected." She set her black bag on the vanity and opened it. She held up a pen light and flashed it in both Olivia's eyes. "Equal and responsive." She checked Olivia's pulse and blood pressure next, then took her temp. "All normal. How's the headache?"

"It's there. Nakos gave me Tylenol. It's better."

"Good. Any nausea?"

"A little."

Hank put her supplies back in the bag. "That should resolve after you get food in your belly." She examined the stitches. "I'll come by next week and take those out. In the mean time, no strenuous activity for a week. Avoid bending at the waist and lifting anything heavier than a gallon of milk the next couple days. Have someone with you if you're going to navigate stairs. Lots of fluids and stick to a light diet today. If you experience vomiting, have them call me right away."

"Okay. Thanks, Hank."

Nate cleared his throat. "Could you help her with..." He waved his hand at the tub.

Hank winked at him. "Sure thing."

He looked at Olivia. "I'll check on your soup." He closed the door behind him, his footsteps padding away.

"Thought I was gonna need to give that guy a sedative." Hank jerked her thumb at the door. "Climbing the walls, stalking like a caged lion. Nakos wasn't much better."

"I heard." Olivia rubbed her eyes, feeling bad enough. "And Nakos always worries."

"Not like your giant soldier. He kept saying, I thought she was dead, I thought she was dead."

"Oh God." Her throat closed and she choked on a sob. She had no idea it had been that bad. Nakos and Aunt Mae must've been out of their minds, too.

"Thought you should know." Hank squeezed Olivia's arm. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up. You'll feel more human."

With Hank's help, Olivia stripped and climbed in the bathtub. She moaned at the hot water against her sore body and closed her eyes. "Heaven."

Hank laughed and passed her a washcloth. "Put that over the sutures. We'll wash your hair."

After they finished and Olivia was dressed, Hank walked her out to the kitchen table and checked her vitals one more time. "All good. Mind my orders and I'll peek in on you tomorrow."

The doc had no sooner left and Nate set a bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of Olivia, along with one of the Gatorades he was so fond of drinking. "Eat. Drink."

She eyed him as he sat across from her. "You should, too."

"Don't worry about me."

"Someone should." When he only gave her a blank stare, she chewed her lip. "Nakos said you refused to eat and"

"I just had a bowl while you were in the bath. I'm fine." He pointed to her soup.

Once she'd taken a few bites, he seemed appeased and set his elbows on the table. Head in his hands, he pressed his palms to his eyes. He had such big hands to go along with the rest of him. His tattoo sleeves moved with the shift of muscle and his fitted white shirt accentuated the hard planes of his pecs. Tension knotted his frame and, by the time he lifted his face and scrubbed his hands over his bald head, his expression was just as tight.

"I really am all right now, thanks to you."

He rubbed his lips, studying her. His gaze darted back and forth between her eyes, the edges of concern lessening. "I didn't do anything but stand around feeling useless."

"You carried me out of the creek, kept me warm, and brought me back home."

His eyes slammed shut so quick she was surprised there wasn't an aftershock vibration. "I don't need the reminder." His lids lifted and he pinned her with an agonizing display of helplessness. Exposed, vulnerable, he shook his head. "Please eat. And the drink will help restore the fluid you lost, balance your electrolytes."

There he went again, taking care of her. He was obviously crawling out of his skin, but his focus was all her. She glanced at her bowl. The sooner she did what he wanted, the quicker she could try to settle the turmoil inside him.

Finishing the soup and sports drink, she stood. "You need a nap."

Ignoring her, he walked her bowl to the sink and tossed out the bottle. He kept busy putting the leftovers in the fridge and washing their measly couple of dishes. Then, as if hitting the end of his patience, he gripped the sink and leaned into his hands, hanging his head.

Her heart cracked in half. Nakos had been right, as were her suspicions. It seemed Nate never had anyone in his life he cared about and, when faced with genuine emotion, he hadn't a clue how to handle it. What had happened to him, this gentle giant? How could a person go their whole life completely...alone?

Worse, she wondered how she was going to repair that kind of damage.