Page 52 of Four Steps to the Perfect Fake Date

“No,” Daphne blurted out. “No, I’ll go. I said I’d go, so I will.”

His hand was still on her foot, warm and strong and comforting. Hazel eyes met hers, hope sparking in them. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, and it wasn’t just because she wanted to get her grandmother’s heirloom back. She still wasn’t sure if that pot in the corner cabinet was the right one. As she sat there, basking in the warmth of Flint’s care, she realized that she didn’t want to let him down. And worse—she wanted to spend more time with him.

That was bad. That meant the lust she occasionally felt for him might not go away so easily. She needed to get away from him, but the fastest way to do that was for someone here to help her home. And there was only one person she could ask.

“You mind helping me up the steps to get to my apartment?” Daphne asked after the silence between them stretched too long.

Flint leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. His spread knees framed her injured foot. “I do mind, Cupcake.”

Daphne popped a brow. “You only like playing doctor when other people might be watching?”

A dark, wicked smile curled his lips. “Not quite. I mind because I’m not taking you home.”

“Excuse me?” she scoffed and mirrored his position, crossing her arms to glare at him. “You want me to call a cab?”

“Wrong again, Davis. I’m taking you to the medical center. You’re getting an x-ray for this ankle, andthenI’m taking you home.”

Daphne let out a grunt, slightly mollified.

Until Flint gave her a wicked grin and added, “Myhome.”

Chapter 19

She fought him all the way to the medical center, but Calvin wouldn’t budge. The woman was a danger to herself. She’d been on the island a little more than a week and already had had three incidents that had led to bodily injury. She needed full-time supervision, and there was no way in hell Calvin was leaving that to anyone else.

By the time she got her x-rays done and was wheeled out to the waiting room where he sat, she seemed completely worn out. The nurse who’d pushed her chair told them it wouldn’t be long until the doctor would speak to them. Daphne thanked her, then turned to Calvin.

They watched each other for a long moment.

“Have you come to your senses yet?” Daphne finally asked.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m going home tonight, Flint.”

“Agreed. My home. I have a nice second bedroom and everything you need.”

She took a deep breath, her hands gripping the arms of her wheelchair as if to stop her from launching herself at him. “Why?”

“Because if I drop you off at your apartment, you’ll probably fall down the stairs and break your neck. I’d rather that not happen. I live in a single-story house. No steps to navigate. Less chance of catastrophic injury.”

“I didn’t know you cared so much.”

Neither did he. But it seemed imperative that Daphne stayed somewhere close where he could keep an eye on her. He needed to protect her from herself. Somehow, he didn’t think Daphne would respond well to him saying that out loud.

“I need you to finish the work you’ve started with the department’s finances,” he finally replied. “It would be inconvenient to have to find someone new.”

Daphne hummed, then turned when a woman in scrubs and a white lab coat came walking toward them.

Fifteen minutes later, Calvin wheeled Daphne out of the medical center after confirmation that her ankle was only lightly sprained and should be fine within a week or two. All she had to do was keep it iced until the swelling went down and keep her weight off it.

Calvin let out a relieved breath. At least there was a bit of good news.

Once Daphne was in the passenger seat of his truck, Calvin got behind the wheel and turned on the engine. He paused, glancing at her. “So?”

Her skin was burnished gold under the glow of the streetlights. It was only dinnertime, but darkness had already blanketed the island. Rain drenched the outside world as the truck’s heat blew over them inside the vehicle.

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