Page 7 of The Trail Boss

Roxie huffed, but a blush ran up her cheeks even as she lifted her chin defiantly. Gavin fought the urge to grin. Beneath her irritation, there was a fire he couldn’t ignore—a fierce personality that tugged at him in a way he hadn’t expected. Why hadn’t he taken more notice of her before? He’d watched her watch some scenes and handle clients with a quiet authority.

“I think we can let you sit up,” said the attending nurse reaching to help her.

“I can do it by myself,” she said, batting away her hand.

“No one said you couldn’t, but there’s nothing wrong in taking a little help.” Gavin stepped forward and took her hands to steady her. She was moving on her own, but her movements were slower than she probably realized.

A short while later, Roxie sat perched on the edge of an exam table, her arms crossed as a nurse shone a penlight in her eyes. Gavin leaned against the wall, his arms folded, watching her with quiet intensity.

“I’m telling you, it’s just a bump,” Roxie said, flinching as the nurse dabbed antiseptic on the cut at her temple.

The nurse glanced at Gavin, then back at Roxie. “You should still get a scan to be sure there’s no internal damage.”

“She’ll get the scan,” Gavin said before Roxie could argue.

Her head she said turning toward him, her eyes narrowing. “Excuse me? I’m right here. I can make my own decisions.”

“Of course, you can,” he said evenly. “You just keep making bad ones, so I’m stepping in.”

The nurse bit back a smile and left the room, giving Roxie space to unleash her indignation.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Mr. Briggs.” She pointed at him, the motion making her wince.

“Gavin, and you didn’t have to ask,” he said, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. “Look, I get it—you’re tough, you’ve got something to prove. But tough doesn’t have to mean stupid.”

Her cheeks flushed, and Gavin couldn’t help but notice the way her lips pressed into a thin, stubborn line. It was both maddening and alluring.

“You don’t know me,” she said, her voice lower now, laced with frustration.

“Not yet,” he replied, holding her gaze.

The air between them crackled, and Gavin felt his pulse quicken. Despite her irritation—and his own growing suspicion about what had happened—he couldn’t ignore the way her presence pulled at him. Her spiky hair framed her face in a way that made her eyes stand out, and even sitting on an exam table, she exuded a fiery confidence that was hard to look away from.

The doctor entered, interrupting the moment. Gavin stepped back, his expression neutral again, though the negative energy lingered in the room.

As the doctor examined Roxie, Gavin’s thoughts drifted to the studio. He replayed the sight of the broken pole mount in his mind, the uneven scratches on the metal, the way it had seemed tampered with.

It wasn’t just an accident.

“Looks like you’ve got nothing more than a mild concussion,” the doctor said, breaking Gavin’s train of thought. “We can get you a CAT scan, but I don’t know that you need it, and there’s a back-up…”

“I’ll pass,” said Roxie.

“Okay, but you’ll need to take it easy for a few days—no strenuous activity, no work, and definitely no pole dancing—and call us if you’re feeling worse or don’t start to improve.”

“Great,” Roxie muttered, her sarcasm biting. “Everybody is a comedian.”

“You can get dressed and head out once the nurse brings your discharge papers,” the doctor said before leaving, “but you’ll need someone to stay with you at least overnight.”

“Not happening,” retorted Roxie.

“Someone needs to wake you up every couple of hours,” explained the nurse.

“I like my privacy.”

Before the nurse could argue, Gavin said, “Not to worry, Doc. We’ll get that covered. I’ll set an alarm on my cell and call Roxieevery two hours. If she doesn’t answer, we’ll kick in the door to check on her.”

“You wouldn’t,” said Roxie.

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