Page 49 of Midnight Secrets

A strong arm snatched my waist, and hauled me back, keeping me from crashing to the floor.

“Whoa. You okay?”

Ozzie’s warm, firm chest at my back wasn’t helping my equilibrium. I looked like something a rat dragged through the sewer; my hair was a tangled mess, tendrils plastered to my face from sweat. Splotches dotted my makeup-free skin from a combination of anger, pain meds, and the cold.

And I smelled too. Like dirt and body odor. I wanted a shower, some food, and some sleep. In that order.

“I’m fine.” I straightened, getting my crutches under me again, and limped my way toward my hotel room. My leg was on fire now, thanks to my little misstep, but I hoped once I got off of it, it would settle back to the dull roar the pain meds had reduced it to earlier.

“You should have taken Christina up on her offer. No elevators at her house.”

Maybe not, but I didn’t want to be fussed over. I loved Christina. She was wonderful. But she and her daughters would have smothered me with attention. I really just wanted to lie in bed and be left alone.

So, I trudged forward to my room and shoved the keycard into the slot and pushed the door open.

“Thanks for walking me back. I’ll be good?—”

“I’m not leaving,” Ozzie interrupted. “Not yet, anyway.”

A deep scowl formed on my face as I stared at him. “Detective?—”

Again, he interrupted me, stepping into my personal space.

“One day, I’ll get you to stop calling me ‘Detective.’”

I blew a long breath through my nose and closed my eyes, hanging my head. “Oscar, I’m tired.”

“I know.”

The compassion in his voice brought my gaze back to his. It shimmered in his dark eyes and in the soft, kind smile toying with his lush lips.

“Do you think you can handle a shower on your own?”

“Yes.” Even if I didn’t, there was no way I was inviting him in to help me. I would want so much more than his assistance undressing and dressing if he came into the bathroom with me.

Just the thought of what his hands would feel like removing my clothes sent coils of heat snaking through my belly.

That was not an option, even if I weren’t nursing a broken leg. He hadn’t made a single pass at me, and I was not about toput myself on the line like that. More than likely, he’d reject me, and I did not want to suffer that embarrassment.

I turned away, limping over to my suitcase to get some clean underwear and my pajamas.

“Give me your keycard. I’ll go get you some dinner while you shower.”

“I can call the front desk. I’m sure someone would run across the street to the diner and get me a burger.” I glanced over to see him holding out a hand.

“Yep, but I can, too, and you don’t have to tip me. Besides, I’m hungry as well.” He rubbed his fingers together. “Keycard, Claire.”

I held his gaze with a glower for a moment longer before finally relinquishing. He wasn’t giving up, and I was too tired and hungry to fight. I passed him the card.

“Thank you.” Smiling, he turned and headed for the door. “Leave the bathroom door unlocked.” He glanced back. “Just in case.”

Then he was gone.

“Just in case,” I mocked as the door closed.

Rolling my eyes, I chucked one crutch onto the bed, then shuffled to the bathroom, clothes clutched in my free hand. The doctor said I could bear weight on my leg, but to use the crutches to help take off some of the pressure. It was easier with one. When I got home, I’d have to look into getting a cane.

Steam filled the bathroom as I turned the water on as hot as it would go. I pulled a deep breath into my lungs and tried to center my mind. I was being petty and ungrateful. He was just trying to help. And being squirrely wouldn’t change my situation. I needed to accept it and move on. The boot was my friend for several weeks.

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