Page 19 of Hard Hat Hottie

Um, what?

“Are you sure he’s okay to sign that?” I lean in, quietly asking Gretchen so as not to get her into any hot water.

“Oh, we went over everything before we gave him any medication. We knew where this was going when we saw how deformed his wrist was. To be honest, I thought sure he’d have a head injury or broken neck. I kept waiting for the shock to set in, but he was very articulate. He said he was good with whatever we needed to do.”

“Ah. Okay. Just making sure after the whole mermaid thing.”

“Do we need to give him a little more medication?” Dr. Davis asks Gretchen.

Really? He seems loopy enough.

“I’m fine. Honest,” Harrison answers, his voice thick. My eyes hold his, and he uses his good arm to wave me over.

“Someone has a fan.” Gretchen laughs.

Crossing to the other side of the stretcher, I lean down so he’ll lie back and relax. “What do you need, Harrison?”

“You.”

A flush immediately creeps from my cheeks down my neck. He might be right. Don’t think this guy needs any more pain medication. The thought has barely left my mind when I feel the back of his hand skim over my exposed belly. My skin prickles with heat, instantly covered in goosebumps. I suck in a breath at his unexpected touch, but don’t pull away. A crackle of electricity travels between us, and I can’t help but look to his handsome, rugged face.

This endearingly flirty man has a sharp jawline dusted in gorgeous dark stubble, and his dark blond hair is perfectly disheveled. I can only imagine it’d look like this following a romp in the hay. Picturing this bronzed god in my bed has me practically swooning.What I’d give for that kind of afternoon delight.My thighs clench at the thought, and I inwardly scold myself for allowing it to take center stage in such a public place.

His hypnotic, mossy-colored eyes stay laser focused on the visible flesh of my abdomen, just before his fingers move to my arm. Harrison slowly and deliberately trails the pads of his fingertips over my tattoo before glancing up at me. “Beautiful.”

Sheesh. Why can’t anyone talk to me like this when they’re sober?

“Stay with me? Please?” His eyes are mesmerizing. How on earth could anyone say no to that?

I turn to Gretchen, who nods, wearing a comical grin. She draws up a little more medication. I’m sure it’s to have it at the ready if he’s still in too much pain when Dr. Davis attempts to set the fracture. Because something tells me he’d never act like this if he wasn’t heavily sedated.Would he?

“They’re blue, right? Or green? Blue green?” he asks.

As his eyes examine mine, I have to bite the inside of my cheek. He’s appreciating my eye color just as I had his.

Suddenly, a thought hits me. I stretch to look over his magnificent torso until I find his left hand. I don’t see a ring. There’s no tan line. Do construction workers wear wedding rings? Maybe it’s too dangerous. Dr. Davis gets situated next to Harrison, holding his wrist carefully in his hands, and I squeeze his right palm a little tighter in preparation for what’s to come.

“Hi,” Harrison repeats.

I can’t help but look away at his drunken antics now. This whole interaction reminds me of the meet cutes I read in romance novels.

If only.

In my periphery, I see Dr. Davis aggressively jerk his hands as he aligns the deformed wrist.

“Ooouch.” The word comes out sloth like.

“Oh, my god. He’s so cute,” Shay whispers over my shoulder.

“Shay, can you come and help hold Harrison’s wrist while Dr. Davis places the splint?” Gretchen asks. “I’ll call x-ray and have them come back for a post reduction film, Dr. Davis.”

“Thank you. We might have to admit him to the orthopedic floor and take him to surgery this afternoon. The OR appears to be booked solid this morning. Has anyone been able to reach his family?”

Family?Of course. Why am I sitting here all googly eyed over this hard hat hottie when he’s likely got a wife or significant other out there that has no idea he’s been hurt? Gathering my senses, I immediately sit back, attempting to withdraw my hand from his when he swiftly clamps down on it like I’m his life preserver about to drift away at sea.

“I’ve already contacted them. They live out of state but said they’d get here as fast as they could,” Gretchen adds.

Out of state?I’m so confused. Turning to look at him, I find his eyes are closed. Carefully, I try once again to slide my hand out of his when his lids fly open.

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