Page 38 of Full House

He reached for the passenger door, holding it open and helping Victoria in. “Buckle up.” He slammed the door then went around to his side.

He drove straight to her place, frequently glancing at Victoria along the way. He knew he was acting irrational—worrying so much—but he’d heard some seriously fucked-up stories of untended head wounds, and he couldn’t seem to shake them from his thoughts. He wished she would let him take her to get checked out. Only then would this current obsession be put to rest.

He glanced over at her again. She gazed out the passenger window. She seemed okay, but he’d keep a watchful eye on her, and the minute he didn’t like something he saw, protest or no, he was taking her to the hospital.

Once home, he got Victoria situated on the couch then went straight to the kitchen, grabbing ice from the freezer and wrapping it in a kitchen towel. He also snagged a bottle of water from the fridge and a couple painkillers from the cabinet.

She’d kicked off her shoes and was curled into the corner of the couch, TV remote in hand, flipping through stations when he returned to the living room.

“Here, take this.” He placed the pills in her cupped palm once she held out her hand then handed her the water to wash them down.

“Thanks,” she said after she swallowed and set the bottle on the table beside the couch.

Nate took a seat next to her and positioned her legs across his lap. “I hate that you got hurt,” he said, leaning toward her to place the makeshift ice pack at the corner of her eye.

She closed her eyes and sighed. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“That doesn’t make it any better.”

“No, but it does make it not your fault.”

Nate’s lips tipped up, and he shook his head in exasperation. Even hurt and half asleep she was a smartass.

He hated leaving her tomorrow. More so now she was injured. Though only a two-and-a-half-hour flight, Vancouver suddenly seemed very far away. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about before I left.”

“Hmm?” Her reply was weak and slurred, and he knew she was mostly asleep.

He lifted the towel to check the swelling and satisfied with how it looked, tossed it on the coffee table before settling back into the couch. He took a breath to speak but let it out with a puff when Victoria issued a nearly silent snore. Grinning, he took her hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. What he had to say could wait until he got back.

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