Page 87 of Whatever Lola Wants

“It’s my television,” she groused, then sighed in resignation. Knowing he’d stand there for hours if need be, she snatched the pill and popped it in her mouth. She glared at him over the water bottle. “Happy now?”

He crouched in front of her to stroke his knuckles over her cheek. “Yes. I don’t like you in pain.”

All her bluster died at the naked concern on his face. “I’m a terrible patient.”

He laid his hand on her cheek. “Yes, you are. Now, do you want something to eat?”

Some of the aches and pains were already fading now that she was still. “I’m not really hungry.”

“It’ll keep.”

Grant cleared his throat. “Well, you look like you have things handled here. We should go.”

“But…” Anna broke off when Grant nudged her. She was watching Simon with a frown. “Are you sure you don’t need us to stay?”

He shifted to look up at her. “I’ve got it.”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, then.”

“I’m going to head out too,” Ginger said. “But I’m right across the hall if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” Now he rose and crossed to Ginger. “And thank you for coming to get me last night.”

She gave him a sweet smile. “It was my pleasure.”

He chuckled at that. “Mine too, actually. I’ve never seen Michael befuddled before.”

Ginger blushed, and Grant raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like a story.”

“You can get it from him later,” Anna said. “Feel better, Lo.”

“Thanks,” she managed, smiling as the three of them headed for the door.

“See?” She heard Anna say to Ginger. “You talked to Simon without blushing. I told you it would be fine.”

“Why would she blush talking to Simon?” Grant wondered, and Lola choked back a laugh as the door closed on Anna’s response.

She folded her lips together and tried to look innocent when Simon sent her an arch look. “You been talking out of turn, sweetheart?”

“Not me,” she said with what she hoped was a wide eyed, guileless look. She cleared her throat when it became clear he wasn’t buying it. “Ginger might’ve said something to Anna about not being able to face you again.”

She caught the twitch of his lips before he sobered. “Uh-huh. You remember what I said would happen if word got around about that?”

She stifled a giggle. The pain meds were kicking in, making her feel a little loopy, but that was no reason to be reckless. “I remember. I didn’t say a word.”

He strode back over to the couch to lean down. “Doesn’t matter who says it, sweetheart. It gets out, and your ass is mine.”

Maybe it was the meds, but for some reason she couldn’t seem to drum up any dread at the prospect.

Before she could analyze that reaction, he was scooping her up. He shifted her easily in his arms and took her place, stretching his long legs down the length of the sofa and settled her on his lap. He reached for the remote on the coffee table and pointed it at the TV. “What movie do you want to watch?”

She settled against his chest, letting her sore muscles relax against him. He smelled good, and the beat of his heart under her cheek was oddly comforting. “Something funny. And romantic. And sexy.”

His chuckle rumbled in her ear. “That’s a tall order.”

“The Princess Bride,” she decided. “And don’t give me any shit about it.”

“Why would I give you shit?” he wondered. “That’s a great movie.”

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