Читать книгу Wilde Thing - Jannine Gallant - Страница 7

“Are you all signed out and ready to go?”

Hannah pushed the wheelchair into the room and surveyed Tripp from the top of his slightly shaggy chestnut hair downward. His face was still pale, the skin drawn tight over high cheekbones, while a bruise darkened the side of his jaw. He wore an old, black University of Colorado sweatshirt that hugged broad shoulders beneath the white sling.

“More than ready.” When he stood, faded jeans stretched over hard, muscled thighs. “At least Jake brought me some clothes, earlier.” He lifted a brown paper bag. “They cut me out of my race suit. What’s left of it is in here.”

She nodded. “Do we need to pick up your meds from the pharmacy before we go?”

“I guess so.” Tripp swayed slightly as he fished a folded paper from his back pocket.

He really didn’t look great. Stepping around the chair, Hannah took the prescription from him then held on to his good arm. “Are you sure you should be leaving the hospital this soon?”

“They wanted to keep me overnight.” He frowned. “I refused. I just need some rest, and I can do that at home.”

“I don’t know…”

“Well, I do. Let’s go.” He limped toward the door, steps faltering as a little more color leached out of his face.

“You’re supposed to use the wheelchair until you get outside. That’s why I brought it in with me.”

“The hell with that. I can walk out under my own steam.”

Not likely. “Sit down, or I’ll get in trouble.”

“Whatever.” He let out a sigh then dropped onto the seat with a whoosh of breath. “Wouldn’t want the nurses yelling at you, too.”

As she turned the chair and pushed him down the hall, a grin slipped out. “They yelled at you?”

“Maybe not yelled, exactly. More like strongly suggested I stop trying to do too much so soon.” He rested his head against the back of the chair. “Hell, I figured a little exercise to keep the blood flowing would help rather than hinder.”

“You didn’t mention earlier that you have a sprained ankle and serious bruising to your thigh.” She stopped at the elevator and pressed the down button.

“Whining isn’t going to do me much good.” He glanced back at her, green eyes dark with pain. “Anyway, they’re only minor problems and will heal a whole lot faster than my shoulder. The doc wrapped my ankle and told me to take it easy for a few days. No big deal.”

She pressed her lips together. Obviously Tripp was determined to downplay his injuries. Or maybe he was just trying to be a martyr. Perfect. They were both silent on the ride down in the elevator. After wheeling him to the pharmacy, she handed over his prescription to the white-coated attendant.

“Now what?”

She glanced at him and frowned. “We stick to the plan. I take you home, maybe make some dinner, and then we’ll see.”

White teeth flashed in a smile. “If any other woman said that…”

Her cheeks heated. “Yeah, well, I’m not any other woman.”

“No, you certainly aren’t.”

Hannah wasn’t sure how to take his quiet comment, so she didn’t say anything while he paid for the prescription then listened to the spiel on dosage and possible side effects. Once he’d taken the bag from the pharmacist, she pushed him out to the parking lot where she’d left her Subaru. After he settled onto the passenger seat, she returned the wheelchair then hurried back to the car. Snowflakes sifted through the gathering cloud cover as she started the engine.

“Another storm moving in.” She turned up the heater. “This is shaping up to be a big winter.”

He didn’t bother to open his eyes. “And I’m going to miss it.”

She gave him a long look before pulling out of the lot. “No whining, remember.”

That earned her a half-smile.

“Right. Sorry.”

At the stop sign, she waited. “Uh, Tripp.”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t have a clue where you live. Somewhere here in Truckee, or do we head back to Squaw Valley?”

“I live in Tahoe City down the West Shore. I hope I’m not taking you out of your way.”

“Not at all. I’m on the West Shore, too.” She flipped on her blinker and turned left. “Convenient. Let’s see if we can make it home before the roads get slick again.”

“I really appreciate this.”

“I know you do. As I said before, not a problem. My afternoon was open, and my evening, too.” She sure wasn’t going to tell him almost all her evenings were free since she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had an actual date. Tapping her fingers on the wheel, she glanced over as they waited at the stoplight. “Why did your friend bail on you?”

“Media interview. Jake won the competition.” He snorted. “Wouldn’t have if I’d finished my run. I was unbeatable.”

“Boy, you sure don’t lack confidence.” Hannah peered through the wipers slapping across the windshield as the snow fell faster. “Must be nice.”

He shrugged then grunted. “Ouch. Son of a bitch!”

“Take another pain med. You’re about due. There should be a water bottle on the floor by your feet.”

He clamped his lips together. “I’ll wait until we get home.”

“Suit yourself.” She focused on the road. As the snow collected on the pavement, she shifted into 4-wheel-drive, glad she’d used the Christmas check from her mother to buy new tires. “There’s no reason for you to be uncomfortable.”

“I don’t like feeling fuzzy.”

“A party animal like you? I’d think you’d be used to it.” She took her eyes off the road long enough to glance over at him.

His scowl was just visible in the dim light as dusk closed in. “I may go out a lot. My sponsors expect me to bolster the Wilde Thing image in the public eye, but I don’t drink excessively during the ski season. Or any other time for that matter. I care too much about staying in top form.”

Hannah couldn’t argue with his logic. At his brother’s engagement party a few months back, she’d seen his form in nothing but a pair of shorts as he’d headed to the shower one morning. She could vouch for the fact that he stayed in incredible shape. “Good for you.”

They rode in silence for some time as the snow fell faster.

“I’m not the complete derelict you seem to think I am.”

Her brows shot up. “I never said—”

He snorted. “You don’t have to say anything. Your expression does the talking for you every time you look at me.”

Clenching the wheel a little harder, she reined in her irritation. “I’m surprised you noticed. I always thought I was invisible around you.”

He turned in his seat and stared. “Why would you think that?”

“How many times did I visit your ranch while I was in college with Eden?”

“Uh, a couple, I’m pretty sure.”

“Three Christmases, two spring breaks and a month one summer. You were around at least part of the time on each occasion.” She gritted her teeth. “As I said, invisible.”

“That many? Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Huh. I could have sworn…” He shook his head. “Ancient history. You’re…different now.”

“You mean not fat.” Her voice came out flat and hard.

“I didn’t imply anything of the sort.”

“Only because your mother raised you better. You were thinking it.”

He let out a long sigh. “Is it a crime to notice you look pretty damn hot now?”

Remnants of old pain dissolved in a spurt of satisfaction. “Not in the least.” She flicked on her blinker and headed down the West Shore of Lake Tahoe. “Where do you live, exactly?”

“I have a house up in Talmont.”

Hannah winced. “We might get up that hill, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to get back down again later. It’s dumping. I’d guess four inches of snow since we left the hospital in Truckee.”

“I have extra bedrooms and a spare toothbrush. No reason for you to go anywhere.”

Her stomach did a funny little flip, not unlike the one Tripp had performed before the avalanche buried him alive. She could only hope for a better ending to the evening. “We’ll see how it goes.”

“Where’s your home?”

“A tiny, old cabin in Timberland I inherited from my grandfather. Funny, Eden didn’t mention you were only a few miles away when she visited me last fall.”

He rested his head against the window, dark lashes visible on his cheeks as they passed under a streetlight. “I was in Europe at the time, and I haven’t had this house long enough for the family to have seen it yet.”

His words slurred slightly. Hannah frowned. Maybe it was just exhaustion or the pain meds, but she wasn’t leaving him home alone with a concussion, no matter how mild. She passed the turnoff to his neighborhood and kept going.

Tripp didn’t say anything more until the car stopped. He sat up straighter, opened his eyes, then glanced around at her cabin backed up against white-coated trees just visible through the falling snow in the glare of the headlights. “Where are we?”

“My place. The doctor wants someone to keep an eye on you, and it looks like that someone is going to be me. I need to pack a bag and collect my dog. My neighbor would feed her if I asked, but she can come with us instead.” She opened the car door to a swirl of fat flakes. “Be right back.”

Trudging through the snow on the path to the front porch, she stomped her boots before unlocking the door to step inside. Her Tiffany lamp, an impulse purchase she hadn’t regretted, glowed on the end table by the couch, casting a warm glow over knotty pine walls. A soft thump sounded from the other room. No doubt Winnie jumping off the bed. Her baby strolled out to greet her, nails clicking on the hardwood floor. The spaniel yawned and stretched as Hannah stooped to rub her silky ears.

“Did you have a boring day? Sorry I’m home so late.”

Straightening, she headed into the bedroom to pack the overnight bag she pulled off a shelf in the closet. A change of clothes and pajamas was all she would need. Her hand hovered over the stack of folded flannel. She jerked it back and searched behind her practical nightwear for a lone silk gown. If Tripp caught a glimpse of her in that little red number, she might not be so invisible anymore. Dropping it into the open bag, she stuffed in a warm fleece robe and quilted slippers. It was January, after all, and she didn’t want to freeze. After collecting a few toiletries from the bathroom with Winnie at her heels, she headed into the kitchen to grab a bag of dog food and her pet’s bowls.

Hannah glanced down. “That should do it. Ready to go?”

Winnie gave a sharp bark and shook. Smiling, Hannah turned off the light and, helped by a gust of wind, opened the door then locked it after her dog scurried out.

“Go pee while you have the chance. I don’t want to take you out the minute we get to Tripp’s place.”

Apparently Winnie was feeling co-operative, or she hadn’t bothered to use her doggie door in a while. After she took care of business near a snow-covered bush, Hannah hurried toward the car. Opening the back door, she tossed in her overnight bag and the dog supplies.

“Get in.”

Winnie leaped up onto the seat then jumped to the center console to land on Tripp’s lap with a thud.

“What the hell?” He jerked upright and blinked.

Hannah slammed the rear door then slid onto the driver’s seat. “Sorry about that. She’s used to riding up front. Be glad she’s not a Saint Bernard.”

One hand came up to stroke the dog’s long, brown and white fur. Winnie closed her eyes in obvious bliss and groaned.

Why wouldn’t she? I bet most females respond that way to Tripp when he touches them.

“Pretty. What is she?”

“A King Charles Spaniel. Her name’s Winnie, although I should have called her Princess.” Hannah backed the car out of the drive then headed down the snowy street. “She expects to be treated like royalty.”

“Why not? She’s a beauty. I like dogs, but I travel too much to own one.”

“When I take out-of-town cases, I bring her with me. If my client has a problem with that, I cut them loose. I can pretty much pick and choose who I work with at this point.” She leaned forward to peer through the fogged up windshield then wiped it with the sleeve of her coat. “You steamed it up in here.”

“Sorry for breathing. Who’s a bigger diva, you or your dog?”

Hannah snorted on a laugh. “Hey, I worked hard to earn my reputation as the best in the business. There have to be a few perks to go along with it.”

“Damn right.”

They drove in silence, the headlights barely illuminating the road through the near whiteout conditions. As they started up the steep climb to his neighborhood, the engine strained as the car plowed through the deepening snow.

“This storm came in fast and hard.”

“No doubt.” She tossed him a quick glance as they reached the top of the hill. “Which way?”

“Take Big Pine. I’m way down at the end. The house backs up to the forest.”

“Nice. I bet you have a killer view of the lake.”

“That’s why I bought the place.” He stroked along Winnie’s back as she turned on his lap to press her nose against the window. “The next driveway is mine. Damn, looks like I need to get out the snow blower.”

“Not going to happen tonight.” Her Subaru bumped into the drive, and she stopped before the closed garage door. “At least there isn’t a berm since the plow hasn’t come by yet.”

He shifted to pull his phone out of his pocket then pushed a couple of buttons. The door rose slowly.

“You can park inside since my pickup is still at Squaw.”

“That’ll make getting out easier for you with a sprained ankle.” She nosed into the garage then turned off the engine. “Why didn’t they send you home with at least one crutch?”

“I have a pair from a broken leg a few years ago.”

“Figures.” She let out a long breath. “We made it. I was beginning to wonder.”

The big door rumbled shut behind them. An automatic overhead light illuminated the large, white-walled space.

“You’re good at driving in the snow. Steady and sure with no overreactions.”

“That’s me. I’ve never been a drama queen.” She stepped out of the car then hurried around to his side to open the door. “I’ll help you into the house. Get down, Winnie.”

Her dog jumped to the concrete floor then set off to sniff the workbench set up in the front. A dozen or more pairs of skis stood in tall racks, and a long stack of wood filled the area near the door leading into the house.

Tripp stood, holding on to the roof of the car with his left hand. “God, I hate being so helpless.”

She slid in beside him to wrap an arm around his waist, enjoying the warmth emanating from his hard, muscled back beneath the sweatshirt. “Hey, everyone needs to lean on someone now and then. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times your family propped me up over the years.”

He headed slowly toward the door. “I sure didn’t. What did the rest of the clan do for you?”

“They were simply there, including me in whatever was going on, making me feel welcome.” Her throat tightened. “Like I belonged somewhere.” She pushed open the door into blessed warmth. “Careful.”

Winnie brushed past them and headed inside.

“She acts like she owns the place. Typical.”

He flipped on a light to reveal a combination laundry and mud room with a stone floor and a carved wooden bench. Tripp dropped down onto it to pull off his boots. Hannah followed suit.

He glanced her way and rolled his eyes. “Some moron put white carpeting in the living room. One of these days, I’ll get around to replacing it. Until then, I take off my shoes.”

She grinned. “I can do that. Let’s go get you settled.”

He grunted as he stood. “I feel like an old man. This sucks.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Sorry, no more bitching.”

“If it makes you feel better, swear up a storm. Believe me, in my line of work, I’ve heard it all.”

“I bet. Athletes in pain are undoubtedly a vocal lot, but I’ll try to control myself. This way.”

He headed through a kitchen gleaming with granite and stainless steel, flipping on lights as he went, past the dining area with a long walnut table and down a step into the living room with the dreaded white carpet. Floor-to-ceiling windows faced what Hannah guessed was a gorgeous view of Lake Tahoe. Currently, the only thing visible was a blur of white swirling through the dark sky.

He sank onto a smoke-gray sectional couch and propped his injured foot up on a wood and glass coffee table. “Damn, it feels good to be home.” When Winnie crossed the carpet and jumped up beside him, he smiled. “Your dog seems to approve.”

“Get down!”

“Leave her.” Tripp laid a hand on Winnie’s back. “I don’t mind.”

Hannah narrowed her eyes on the pair. “This is why she thinks she’s the queen of the world. I’ll go get my bag.”

After bringing in her overnight case along with the dog supplies, she stopped in the kitchen to search the cherry wood cabinets for a glass to fill with water. Shaking a pill out of the prescription bottle, she headed back to the living room. “Here. Take this.”

He complied without argument. “Thanks.”

“You need to eat. Any ideas?”

“I made lasagna a couple of nights ago.” He leaned back against the cushions. “There’s quite a bit left, and you’ll find salad stuff in the crisper drawer.”

Her brows shot up. “You made lasagna?”

“What? I like to cook.”

“Aren’t you full of surprises?”

He reached out to squeeze her arm. “Good ones, I hope.”

A little thrill shot through her as she studied him for a long moment. Tripp was completely wiped out if the way he’d practically melted into the couch was any indication. Yet, there was still a hint of sparkle in his eyes and a flirtatious quirk to his lips. Hannah guessed he never completely turned off the charm. Men like him, ones who cared only about a woman’s appearance and not about her substance, usually left her cold. But for some reason, she wasn’t completely immune. She should know better.

She cleared her throat and stepped away. “So far so good, but the night’s young. You still might morph into Mr. Hyde before the evening is over.”

“Will you run screaming into the night if I do?”

“Lucky for you, I’ve dealt with worse. I don’t scare easily.”

“Good, because I could get used to having you around. Hannah?”

“What?”

“Thanks.”

The sincerity shining in his eyes took a chunk out of the protective wall around her heart. She’d have to be very careful around this man if she didn’t want to get hurt. Again.

“You’re welcome.”