I open my mouth to argue, but pure exhaustion comes over me. “Fine.”
Dillon is next to me and helps me from the table. “Thanks, Doc. Just bill us.”
I thank the doctor, and as soon as my feet hit the ground, Dillon lifts me in his arms. “I can walk,” I tell him.
He just keeps moving.
The doctor opens the door, and Dillon strides with me in his arms from the infirmary. As soon as we walk out, we’re surrounded by people.
Some of them are minding their own business, getting ready for their next event or whatever, but a lot of people are watching us. “Everyone is staring.”
“I don’t care,” Dillon says.
He holds me tighter, and my face is tucked against his neck. “I can walk.”
He’s striding toward the exit, and his arms tighten around me. “I’d like to hold you if that’s okay.”
When I don’t answer him, he stops and looks down at me. “London, is it okay if I carry you to the car?”
I nod my head and wrap both hands around his neck. “Yeah, okay.”
He gets me to his truck, opens the passenger door, and slides me in. He pulls the seatbelt around me, and before closing the door, he searches my eyes. “You okay?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
He opens his mouth, then closes it.
He wants to say something, but he just shakes his head and then shuts the door.
Instead of watching him walk around the truck, I lean my head back against the seat.
I sleep almost the whole way back to my ranch.
I open my eyes only when Dillon lifts me out of the truck to carry me inside. “I’m sorry,” I murmur.
He clenches his eyes shut. “Don’t say you’re sorry.”
I lean my head back against his chest and let him carry me inside the house, down the hall and to my bedroom.
Juggling me in one arm, he pulls the covers back and then lays me down on the bed.
He points at me. “Stay right there. I’m going to go fix you something to eat.”
I shake my head. “I’m not hungry.”
He sits on the side of the bed, his hip next to mine. He’s looking at me so intently that all I can do is stare back at him. He lifts his hand and brushes a stray hair off my face. “London, you have to eat.”
I nod. I know he’s right. “Yeah, right, I know. I can get myself something.”
His hand goes to my shoulder. “Stay right here and I’ll get it.”
He watches me for another few seconds, and then with a huffed breath, he gets up.
I watch him as he walks out of my room. I can hear the sounds of cabinets opening, pans being set on the stove.
Only ten minutes go by before Dillon is walking back into the room with a tray in his hands.
I scoot up, putting my back against the headboard.
