Page 39 of Loving Lies (Granton University 3)

“You painted your fingernails,” he said, needing to talk about something totally unrelated to the trials that awaited him.

Tess sent him a startled glance. “Yeah. I figured it was time.”

He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he assumed it was a good thing because the smile that blossomed across her cheeks was blinding in its beauty. “I like the color,” he went on, smoothing his finger over her glossy red nails. “Reminds me of your hair.”

Groaning, she leaned closer to him, driving him crazy by the flowery smell her proximity brought him. “Please don’t tell me you like my hair next. I know better than that. This mop is completely ridiculous.”

Jonah smiled as he looked up to her curling red locks. “No. I don’t like your hair.” He let go of her hand so he could wind a brilliant strand of scarlet around his index finger. “I’m hopelessly in love with your hair.”

When she sucked in a breath, he knew he’d said the right thing. Tugging gently on the lock he held, he drew her closer. “So, are you going to give me a kiss for good luck, or what?”

Her blue eyes glittered with a glee that did all kinds of amazing things to him. “Jonah, if you just wanted me to kiss you, all you had to do was say so. You didn’t have to toss in all that ‘for luck’ stuff.”

/> “Tess,” he said, towing her in even closer. “I just want you to kiss me.”

She laughed, but he cut the sound short with his mouth. She had to catch her hand in the mattress by his head to keep from losing her balance. Burying both of his hands in her amazing hair, he cupped her face and urged her mouth open so his tongue could curl around hers.

Being with her, like this, did things to him, pulled emotions from him, until he pressed his forehead to hers the moment their kiss ended. “I’m scared out of my mind that I won’t be able to—”

“Well, well, well.” Someone broke into his whispered confession, thank God, keeping him from spilling his soul to her. “What do we have here?”

Tess jerked guiltily upright and spun toward the doorway as Jonah’s physical therapist strolled into the room.

“There’s a new face.” Striding forward, he focused on nothing but Tess as he held out his hand and sent her a big, goofy grin. “You must be my man Jonah’s better half?”

She appeared momentarily flustered but finally nodded and shook his hand. “I’m Tess.”

“It’s good to meet you, Miss Tess. Call me Frenchie.”

Frenchie had always been annoyingly cheerful when he came to inflict pain on Jonah three days every week by stretching his muscles. He looked like a computer geek with pasty, pale skin, frail frame, and thick black horn-rimmed glasses, but he talked more like a salesman, yapping on, usually in a one-sided conversation. Jonah was typically too bitter to engage him, though, so he kind of preferred it being one-sided.

Today, however, he scowled at his PT because the man was making his girl blush.

“So, I’m the physical therapist,” Frenchie rambled on. “And today is this big boy’s special day to finally try getting up on his feet. But I assume you already knew that, and that’s why you’re here. To watch the show.”

“If that’s okay,” Tess answered with a nod.

“Sure, sure. The more cheerleaders coaxing him on, the better.” Turning to Jonah, he waggled his eyebrows. “You ready to get this party started?”

Hell, no. But Jonah drew in a deep, bracing breath, glanced at Tess, and nodded.

“All right, then. First we’re going to do our routine stretches to limber you up, and then we’ll call in some help for the walking part.”

Realizing they weren’t going to get straight to attempts at walking set Jonah’s nerves on edge even more.

When Frenchie had him sit up and draw his legs over the side of the bed, his stress blossomed through every limb, making them quake. His muscles strained as he shifted his hips around. Frenchie assisted him, grabbing his legs until he was sitting upright on his own with his sock-covered feet actually pressing against the floor. He couldn’t believe it. This was probably the first time in weeks that the soles of his feet had touched a floor.

But Tess’s gasp stole some of his wonder. “Oh, my God. You have clothes on.”

Both he and Frenchie glanced at her, all of their eyebrows lifted. She immediately blushed and slapped her hand over her face. “I mean…” She waved frantically at his outfit. “You changed clothes. You were still wearing your hospital gown last night. I, uh, just now noticed you’re not in it anymore. And your I.V.’s gone too.”

Her flustered expression was adorable. Jonah grinned, and Frenchie snickered. “Yeah, you did seem a little too preoccupied to notice what he was wearing when I came in.”

After sending his therapist a brief scowl, Jonah glanced back toward Tess. “One of my nurses went to the store this morning and picked me up some street clothes.”

“We can’t have our boy walking around the hospital with his tushy hanging out, now, can we?” Frenchie laughed, making Tess blush and Jonah roll his eyes.

The gray T-shirt was actually a little snug and the pants too short. A lump bulged from the right side of his stomach where his bullet wound was taped together under his clothes. But he was so relieved he wouldn’t have his bare ass on display when he tried to walk today, he didn’t care. Short and tight clothes were better than no clothes.

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