Page 19 of Love JD

She stopped laughing with a start. Her cheeks went cherry pie red, and I got the same feeling I got after sinking my teeth into a warm donut. So fucking satisfying. I flashed her a grin. “No?”

“Very funny,” she bit out. She threw her blankets aside like she wanted to get up but pulled up short with a forlorn glance at her ankle.

“I’ll get your boot,” I offered, sliding my shirt back on.

Isla looked like a perfect mixture of frustration and resignation. “Yeah, alright.”

I brought her the black brace, inspecting it for any leftover shards of glass before I handed it over. I’d swept up the carnage from her fall while she’d been asleep, but I hadn’t been able to find any kind of tarp or even wrapping paper to put over what was left of the back door, so it had let in cold air all night.

Isla cinched up her boot, her hair sliding silkily over her shoulder, and the contrast of her sexy, slightly curled hair over her ridiculous Christmas pajamas did something funny to my chest. I rubbed it absently as I watched her. Don’t go there, I thought with a sudden grimace. Off-limits. You don’t want to mess with that. Tease all you want, but don’t make it real.

Isla looked up, her hazel eyes light as caramel in the morning sunlight, and rubbed the bridge of her nose nervously. “Thanks for hanging around.”

“It’s the least I could do,” I replied easily.

Her eyes bounced from side-to-side. “For what?”

“All the free publicity.” I gave her a toothy smile.

She gasped and reached for her phone. “Oh my God, I forgot.”

“Whatever it says,” I warned. “Ignore it. It’s probably better not to read it.”

“What are you?” she asked incredulously, tapping away at her phone to pull up the news articles. “Only an alien wouldn’t want to know what people were saying about them.”

“Earthlings are notoriously savage. Trust me.” If anyone knew the depths of human depravity, it was a lawyer.

“Oh, fuck,” she groaned, her thumb swiping through pictures and salacious headlines.

I leaned over her and gently placed my hand over the screen. She looked up at me with distress pulling down the corners of her small mouth. I closed my hand over the screen, brushing against her warm fingers. “Leave it, Isla. It doesn’t matter what money-hungry jerkoffs think.”

She held my gaze, and then she got a kind of dazed look on her face. “Okay.”

I set the phone aside and gripped her wrists. “Come on. I’ll help you to the bathroom, and you can—” I paused, my eyes roving over her face and down her flannel-clad curves. “—do whatever fungus nerds do in the morning.”

A reluctant smile dimpled her cheek. “Yes, I have to brush my spores.”

“Disgusting.” I helped her stand, and then I wrapped my arm around her waist to hold her steady. Isla leaned into me, her lips parting and her attention jumping from my eyes to my arms, and over to my chest.

That was possibly the cutest eye grope I’d ever been given.

The door knocked again, and I subconsciously pressed Isla tighter to me. She must have agreed with my reservations because she asked, “You think it’s actually the nurse this time?”

“Better fucking be,” I replied with my eyes on the broken door, which had listed sadly off to one angle. “Otherwise, I’m going to jail for assault.”

“Battery,” Isla corrected. I flicked my eyes to her, with an annoyed blink. She shrugged. “You’re insinuating that you want to punch the reporters. That’s battery. Aren’t you a lawyer?”

“Apparently not a very good one,” I drawled.

She gave me a pitying shrug.

“Okay, smartass.” I lowered her back to the couch. “Hang out there while I answer the door.”

“At least you’re wearing clothing,” she pointed out.

“Points for the stupid lawyer,” I smiled. I lifted the door and then swung it open, my body language guarded.

An older woman in scrubs smiled back at me. She had salt and pepper hair cut short in a pixie style, and already I liked her no-nonsense aura. Isla could probably use several hefty doses of that. “I’m Shirley, with Home Health and Heart.” She handed over an ID card and waited with expectant patience.

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