Page 14 of Santa of the Creek
“Hey.” Dean taps my arm, drawing my attention. “He was just walking past at the wrong time. He’s got a large mouth, but he’s not a bully.”
“In other words, I’m over-reacting?”
I am, I know it, another hangover from my childhood. I’ve met too many guys like Lee. The scar on my left cheek reminds me every time.
But of course, Dean gives me the out. “You’re tired and in pain and you need to relax at home.
I lean heavily on my crutches. “I’m hungry too.” I admit.
“It’s a good thing I picked up wings from Randy’s then,” he says cheerfully.
I moan in happiness as I crutch out of the doors of the hospital. “I would have your babies if it were possible.”
Dean looks around hurriedly. “If Lee hears that one, you’ll be knocked up by the end of the day.”
“Modern medicine is wonderful,” I assure him, “but I don’t think guys can do that yet.”
Not that I haven’t thought about the idea of being pregnant. It’s one of those three in the morning after too much coffee thoughts.
He leads me to a Ford F-150 pickup. I look at it in surprise. It’s new, but it’s more practical than I expected. I envisaged him driving a sleek sedan.
“Nice ride,” I say.
I’ve got an old Chevy, more rust than metal, but I love her. I’ve had her since high school, and she was old then.
“It’s okay.” He seems indifferent as he opens the passenger door.
Not a gearhead then.
I have to think about how I’m going to get into the car.
“Turn your butt to the seat and hang on to the frame of the door and the crutches as you ease yourself onto the seat,” Dean suggests. He grins at my sigh of relief as my ass hits the seat. “It’s okay, fella, you’re safe.”
“Could I sue the dog for the loss of my dignity?” I mumble as I swing my legs around so at least I’m facing the right way.
“Dogs lick their balls.” Dean takes the crutches from me. “I don’t think they care about your dignity.”
This is true. I’ve always been envious of a dog’s ability to lick their own balls. I’m not that flexible. Yes, I’ve tried, okay? Hasn’t every guy?
I look up to see Dean smirking at me. He knows exactly what I was thinking about. I sigh. My dignity is the least of my worries. He sticks the crutches in the back seat and shuts the door. I sit back in the seat, closing my eyes just for a moment.
“Echo?”
I wrinkle my nose against the interruption. Can’t I have five minutes peace?
“Echo, you’re home.”
It takes a moment to process. Then I open my eyes and blink as I realize I’m sitting in my drive behind the Chevy with Dean smiling at me.
I yawn so hard my jaw cracks. “I guess I fell asleep.”
“You were snoring before I drove out of the parking lot,” he assures me.
“I’d apologize but I’m too tired to care.”
“No need to apologize. Let’s get you inside. You’ve got to manage the stoop first.”
I huff out a breath. “Can’t I just close my eyes and sleep here?”
