Page 94 of Dance for Me

Bodie curled her lip at the mention of the perky but strict physical therapist who was currently the bane of Bodie’s existence. Savannah, in Braun’s opinion, was fantastic. Exactly what Bodie needed when she wouldn’t listen to anything but the driving need to be whole again.

“Savannah talk is banned from the house,” she told him, replicating his scowl almost perfectly. “She’s a demon in human disguise, and we’re not talking about her.”

He barely held onto his control, a laugh threatening to erupt. God knew they hadn’t had much to laugh about the past handful of months. Arguing, bickering, temper tantrums with a side of clinging, crying, depression, and despair was their usual daily menu of emotions.

He couldn’t blame her. An infection in Bodie’s leg during the early months of her recovery had set her back, resulting in an extra month’s stay in hospital. The wound in her stomach had skinned over, then broken open again, leaving them unable to do anything but let it heal from the inside out.

The doctors were thrilled with how quickly Bodie’s left leg and broken arm had healed. Her cheekbone hadn’t required surgery, much to Braun’s relief—he wouldn’t like to say how much more Bodie could have taken on top of everything else going on at that point in time.

Braun watched his subbie perform an unintentional striptease, her body shimmying and wriggling as she fought to pull off the extra baggy t-shirt over her head. He loved the few pounds she’d put on in all the right places in the last few weeks, despite the rigorous daily PT routine she pushed herself through.

Bodie was determined to lose the crutches as soon as possible.

“For God’s sake, woman,” he muttered in exasperation when she got tangled in the shirt. He strode to the rescue, deftly freeing her. When she smiled ruefully, he bent and nibbled lazily on her mouth until her lips parted for him. “Savannah’s been a godsend and you know it.”

Her hands landed on his hips as she leaned into him, using him for support when her leg wobbled. “Do you know how fucking happy she is all the damn time? I’m sweating from places no woman should and she’s all smiles and chirpy-chirp chatter. The woman is a monster, Braun.”

His eyebrow flicked up. “Harsh, little one.”

“When I cried last week, she patted me on the head and made me keep on doing the stupid exercises. She said they’re harder for me to do now because my stomach took so long to heal.” Bodie pouted, obviously gearing up for a tantrum.

Braun knocked it on the head before it escalated into a no-holds barred brawl. “Which is why we need to rethink the idea of going to Avalon tonight, Bodie. She put you through the wringer today; you need to rest. Everyone will understand.” There’d be some disappointed people, he knew, but wisely kept his mouth shut. Bodie didn’t need to know their friends were prepared to throw her a welcome home party at a moment’s notice.

He’d found Liam’s stash of banners and decorations beneath the bar a few weeks ago, and the boy damn near quivered at the mention of Bodie returning to the club.

“They might, but I don’t. I just want to hobble my ass over to the club and sit with our friends, Braun. Just sit and have a drink, talk to the people we know without them looking at me like the poor woman restricted to a hospital bed or house arrest. I’ve got a damn cast on my leg; I haven’t had it amputated.”

Grimacing, Braun thanked the stars she didn’t know how close she’d come to that outcome. The possibility of losing her leg completely from the knee down had been discussed when the infection ripped through the limb. For three long and distressing days, he’d withheld vital information from her and given Faraday orders not to distress Bodie out any further with something that might not happen.

It was just another thing he offered thanks for.

Damn it, he couldn’t resist her when she peered up at him with those big blues. He’d spent six months reading every emotion in the spectrum as they passed through those eyes. Everything from happiness at seeing a friendly face to weary defeat when she reached the point of giving up.

With a sigh, he treated himself to another kiss before pushing her back onto the bed. “Fine, but no restrictive clothing. Your balance isn’t the greatest at the moment, and there’s no chance in hell you can catch yourself if you stumble.”

Bodie grinned at him, victory in her eyes. “Crutches, remember?” Her grin turned wicked, teasing. “Well, I guess we don’t have to go to the club. I can think of something else to keep me out of mischief. Sir.”

He flicked her on the nose. “No sex, Bodie.”

“Why not? This is all fixed,” she pointed out, running her fingers down the bright pink scar along her midsection, then walking her fingers in a southerly direction to the top of her mound. “Six months, Braun. Jasper’s concerned the curse of blue balls has come back to haunt you.”

“Oh, is he now?” Braun scowled again as he rummaged through the pile of clothes she’d handily scattered over the foot of their bed. It looked like a bomb had exploded in a thrift store. “Jasper needs to keep his mouth shut before the curse of no balls at all strikes him.”

Bodie giggled and fell back, spreading her arms wide. “You know, I read that if a guy doesn’t have sex for months, he’s more likely to come really, really quick when he does. We could get that awkwardness out of the way right now.”

Struggling so damn hard not to laugh, Braun scooped up an armful of clothes and dropped them on her face. “You are such a brat, Boadicea.”

Muffled laughter came from beneath the material as she spluttered and fought her way free. “But you love me.”

He plucked up one of his shirts and a pair of mutilated sweatpants. “Yes, I love you, brat. Now sit up and behave yourself before I hand you over to Jasper for the night. He bought a new tawse last week and he assures me it delivers a bloody good sting.”

Still laughing, she managed to sit herself up, folding her hands prettily in her lap as she batted her lashes at him. “Because we wouldn’t want that, would we, Sir?” she murmured.

Christ, she was in a mood tonight. Putting a damper on it would do more harm than good. Maybe a night out of the house would benefit her. Hell, who was he kidding? They both needed a night with company other than their own.

“You wouldn’t, no. Arms up, darlin’.” When she obeyed, he slipped his shirt over them, then popped her head through the opening and let the material cascade over her perky breasts, beautifully showcased in a lacy bra the color of lavender. “Determined to tempt me tonight, aren’t you?”

“Every night,” she said earnestly, losing some of the manic energy driving her whacky mood. “Doctor Faraday told us two weeks ago you won’t break me if we have sex, Braun. We just need to be careful with my leg, that’s all.”

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