Page 53 of Vodka And Virtue

“Breakfast is served. I’m also going to inject something for pain into your IV line. I read over your chart and I think you’ll be released today if everything goes smoothly with your second x-ray. We’ll see what the doctor says.”

I frowned at the yogurt. “Is this all I get?”

“If you keep that down, we’ll see about something else.” She smiled, chipper and full of goodwill. I hated her.

Maybe hated was a strong word. Resented?

She bounced out of the room, and Carly yawned. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and I read the concern on his face.

“How do you feel?”

“Did I ever tell you I was in a motorcycle accident once? About fifteen years ago. I broke two ribs and fractured my femur.”

“No! Jeez!”

“Anyway, I feel worse than that.”

“How is that possible?”

“Did you miss the part about it being fifteen years ago? I’m an old man now. It’s a good thing my abs are more fat than muscle or it would probably hurt a lot worse.”

“You’re not fat,” Carly defended. “And you’re not old,” he insisted with a little less vehemence. I chuckled at that.

“Will you feed me the yogurt?” I tried for a sexy smirk, but I probably missed the mark by miles.

“Of course I will.”

I kept it down but wasn’t hungry for anything else. Carlisle slipped out to the cafeteria for coffee and breakfast while they took me for a second x-ray. He came back carrying a Mylar balloon shaped like a motorcycle that said, ‘Ride the road to recovery.’

It was the first smile I cracked all day.

“I thought you could use something black. Something a little less…pink.”

“It’s perfect. And so are you, sweetness.”

The doctor came in soon after. “Everything looks good, Mr. MacGregor. We’ll get you on your way shortly. You can get the stitches out in two weeks if it heals nicely. Keep an eye out for signs of infection. Keep it clean and dry. You might need some help around the house for the next week or two. I’m concerned about you overdoing it and ripping your stitches open.”

It was another hour before the nurse came in to remove my IV and hand me my discharge papers.

“Help me get dressed?” I asked.

“I’m waiting on Shannon. He’s on his way to pick us up because our cars are still at the bar. He’s also bringing you a clean shirt.” Carlisle traced the tattoos on my arm, his fingers trailing up my bicep. “All this ink makes this hospital gown look a little sexier,” he teased.

“You think so? Maybe I’ll ask them for an extra one to bring home and I’ll wear it for you later.”

“Rory, I’m coming home with you. I don’t want an argument about it. I just want you to say yes and let me do my thing.”

He was so fucking cute. “And what is your thing?”

“To let me fuss over you and take care of you until you feel strong enough again.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “Take me home, Carly baby.”

18

CARLISLE

I knockedon the bathroom door. “Do you need help in there?”

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