‘I’ll admit it was.’
‘It’s good to just play a game now and again. It makes you forget your troubles for a few moments.’
Dex couldn’t remember the last time he’d played any game, besides the game to win his fights. And he’d never sat up playing board games all night, not with a woman he’d just met.
‘Well, good luck, Dex.’ She held out her little hand for him to shake again.
‘Thank you, Sophie.’ He held her soft and dainty hand a little longer, the air positively crackling around them.
Then a buzzer sounded down the hall.
‘I must go. Patients are waking. Don’t forget to breathe.’ And with a cute smile and a wave, she hoisted that large orange cat to drape it over her shoulder like a fur shawl, then pushed her chunky nurse’s trolley out the door.
‘Goodbye, Nurse Kitty.’
Even though he didn’t want her to leave, it was good that she had because today he was going home, back to Elsie Creek Station. Dex didn’t need any distractions like Nurse Kitty in his life, period. Especially since he’d sworn to never trust another woman again, unless they were family. He didn’t even trust his brothers’ partners yet.
But today he was going to be at the mercy of one woman who took no prisoners…
Eight
Dex did not want to be here. But he really had no choice. Like a child who’d been grounded for getting suspended from school for the umpteenth time, he was now being sent to the naughty corner of Elsie Creek Station—the caretaker’s cottage.
It was the first time he’d been inside the large open room with its low ceiling and walls made of river rock that kept the place cool. Assorted shiny rodeo belt buckles sat on a bookshelf, while vintage pictures of the station, rodeos, and stockmen hung on the wall. The only furniture they had was the long leather couch near the stout leather armchair.
A solid wooden table made up the dining area, and the kitchen ran along the back wall with its thick island bench made from one solid piece of timber. There were bunches of herbs drying over the kitchen window, and jars of assorted colourful concoctions filled the cupboards that had no doors. It reminded him of Dr Frankenstein’s lab of bottled body parts, but Bree said they were pickled vegetables and preserved fruits. Yeah, right. Since when were carrots purple?
‘You’ve got the soft couch there.’ Bree pointed to the long leather couch where he was going to be held captive until he stopped breathing like Darth Vader behind his oxygen mask.
‘I don’t like a soft couch.’
‘I can get you some planks of wood and hammer it up with a few nails if that’ll make you feel more comfortable.’
This was going to kill him.
‘Fine, this’ll do.’ He dragged the stupid oxygen trolleybehind him the way Nurse Kitty dragged that orange cat down the hospital’s corridor to get it to walk.
He slowly lowered himself onto the couch, which cocooned his body.Aww, hell yeah.‘I’m never getting up.’
‘Can you, is the question?’ She grinned at him, with those evil green eyes. What’s worse was that Bree had the kind of look that could crack you open to peer at your deepest, darkest secrets. And Dex didn’t share his secrets with anyone.
‘So, this couch will be yours for the next…’
He glared at her.
The wicked thing defiantly glared back. It obviously wasn’t her choice to have him crash on the couch, either.
‘We put the TV on the trolley, so you can position it however you want.’ Bree passed him the remote control.
‘We only get one channel out here, if we’re lucky.’
She plonked a hand on one hip and gave him a look as if he were a complete moron. ‘Listen, Stormcloud, I have satellite television. How else am I going to watch the ice hockey?’
‘Sweet. Got any boxing?’
‘Probably.’
He flicked through the channels. ‘Why can’t I hear anything?’