Page 48 of King of Pain

But I don’t want to go into town with Luke looking like I stepped out of the river while he rocks some effortless GQ look with a working-guy twist.

It makes me feel so inferior.

Maybe I can pick up an eyeliner or something today. Maybe a little gloss for my lips would be nice.

I turn off the blow dryer, assessing my hair. At least I got the loose waves right. They look soft and silky, waving back from my face.

I tug at my Walmart T-shirt as it stretches across my chest. “Ready,” I call back and then open the door.

He’s leaning against the wall of the kitchen, one brow quirked up as he takes me in.

I nip at my lip. “I didn’t want to look like I’d been dragged through mud today.”

“You always look beautiful,” he rumbles. “But that hair looks so gorgeous all blown out, I can’t wait to mess it up.”

My cheeks flush as I look down with a smile. Now that he’s said it, that’s exactly what I was hoping for.

His hand loops around my waist, brushing the bare skin between my shirt and my shorts as he pulls me outside.

He helps me into the truck and then fires her up, turning the truck around to head down the long dirt road that passes as a driveway.

We finally pull onto the road and start the hour-long drive to Durango. In a different car it would be shorter, but Alice won’t go over forty-five.

Fine by me. With the wind filling the cabin, I lounge back in my seat, wondering where I’m headed next.

We finally reach Durango and pull into the bank. “Can I make a call while you’re in there?” It’s just nine, the bank doors opening. If I call now, I might be able to catch the doctor before his first procedure.

“Sure,” he tosses me the burner. “Good luck.”

I catch his grimace. Is he nervous for me? I appreciate it, but I’m pretty resigned at this point. He’ll either give me the extension or he’ll take away the position.

With trembling fingers, I dial the number, having called enough times, it comes easily.

It rings twice and the doctor’s assistant picks up. “Doctor Shrewsbury’s office.”

“Karen,” I say warmly. We’ve talked a lot over the last several months. “It’s Kate. Is Doctor Shrewsbury available.”

“Kate,” she gushes. “You’re just in time. I’ll put you through.”

I draw in a cleansing breath as the line rings again.

“Kate?” Dr. Shrewsbury picks up. “How are you?”

“Good,” I answer, wincing. “You?”

“Wondering why you might be calling.”

He’s a cut-through-the-bullshit kind of guy.

“Yes. Of course. I went on a hiking trip, explore-the-area kind of thing, and my friend’s truck broke down.”

“You’re not calling me to pick you up?”

“No. No. I would never. But the truck needs repairs and it’s going to take us an extra day or two to return to Vegas and…”

“I beg your pardon?”

His tone could cut glass. “My apologies, Doctor Shrewsbury. I’m just as committed. I just?—”

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