Page 56 of Black Heart

What exactly did he have to be nervous about, Marty wondered as he gave her what appeared to be a hopeful smile. Whatever it was, Tristan clearly wanted to put it off for a while. Who would have ever thought the day would come when Tristan Black was nervous about something? She certainly hadn’t. He wanted to put off whatever it was that he wanted to talk about, so, of course, she decided that she wanted to hear it now.

“No, I think we should talk about it now,” Marty said, biting back another smile when he opened his mouth only to shut it abruptly.

“Well?” she asked, cocking an expectant brow.

Tristan cleared his throat, obviously trying to stall for more time as he focused all of his attention on unbuttoning his shirt. “I could fire up the grill,” he offered, trying to use her love of barbecue against her.

“No, that’s fine. I’d rather hear what you have to say,” Marty said, sighing heavily as she gently pushed his hand away and finished unbuttoning his shirt for him. Once she was done, she pulled the shirt out of his pants and moved to push it off when she spotted an angry bruise poking out from beneath the edge of his shirt.

“Oh, my God, Tristan,” Marty whispered as she carefully pushed his shirt out of the way so that she could see the extent of the damage.

A large bruise that looked fresh started just above the left side of his chest and went all the way up to his shoulder. She wasn’t a medical professional or anything, but it looked painful and definitely like something that should be looked at by a doctor. He winced as she helped him push his shirt off his left arm, but other than that, he didn’t complain, not that she actually expected him to. This was Tristan Black, after all.

“You need to go to the hospital,” Marty said, moving behind him to see the extent of the damage. She was glad that he was looking the other way so that he didn’t see her cringe. Both sides were bruised, but the top of his shoulder and back clearly got the worst of it.

“Not necessary,” Tristan said, grabbing the homemade ice pack and placed it against his chest.

“It’s very necessary, Tristan. You really hurt yourself,” Marty said as she considered calling his father and brother so they could take a look at it and, if needed, drag him to the hospital.

“It’s fine, Marty,” Tristan said, walking over to the refrigerator. He placed the ice pack on top of the fridge and opened the door. “You want a beer or a Coke?”

“Nothing,” Marty said, sighing heavily. “I want you to go to the hospital and get that thing checked out.”

What if he’d really damaged his arm? He could have torn something or aggravated his injury. Ignoring it wasn’t an option, but apparently, that’s exactly what Tristan planned on doing.

“Coke, it is,” Tristan said, grabbing two Cokes with his right hand and placed them on the counter. He managed to open his Coke with his right hand before he grabbed the ice pack and placed it back against his chest. Then, as if to prove that he really wasn’t hurt, Tristan picked up his soda with his left hand and proceeded to drink it while she glared at him.

“Get your butt back in the car, Tristan. We’re going to the hospital,” Marty said, deciding that she’d see if she could manage to get him there by herself before she called in the big guns.

“No,” Tristan simply said as he walked past her. He placed his soda on the table and pulled out a chair, trying to hide his wince as he sat down.

“I’m not kidding, Tristan. Get your butt in that car, now,” Marty said firmly, hoping that would be enough to get him to move his ass. Apparently, it wasn’t because he only chuckled as he leaned back in his chair.

“Or what?” Tristan asked with a slow, sexy smile that made her mouth go dry and made it difficult to think, never mind do what needed to be done.

“If you don’t want barbeque, then we could always order in,” Tristan suggested, giving her the distraction that she needed.

“We’re not ordering in, Tristan,” she said with a sigh as she unzipped her purse and grabbed her phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling your father and brother because, clearly, I’m in over my head here and you’re an idiot. I’m going to call them and let them drag you to the hosp-hey!” Marty gasped when he plucked the phone out of her hands and placed it in his pocket.

“Give it back,” Marty said, holding her hand out expectantly.

“Sorry. Can’t do that, Marty,” Tristan said as he crossed his arms over his impressive chest.

“You’re going to the hospital,” Marty told him as she considered the odds of being able to steal the phone away from him.

“No, I’m not so let it go,” Tristan warned her with a hard glint in his eyes. It was the same look he’d used to get when he was a child and someone mentioned the hospital to him.

“Please tell me that you’re not still afraid of hospitals,” Marty said with a heavy sigh.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Tristan said evenly. “I’m just not going to waste my time going for something that ice and a few aspirins can handle.”

“Okay, sure, whatever,” Marty said, having had more than enough for one day. If he was going to be stubborn, then that was fine with her. She had better things to do with her time than to waste it by arguing with him. “I’m going home. See you in the morning,” she said, moving to walk out of the kitchen when he stepped in front of her and blocked her path.

“We need to talk, Marty,” Tristan said, once again looking nervous.

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