* * *
George blinked after him, confused and hurt and worried and a little angry.
What was going on? No. No way could she let Andrew Blane leave her behind for the second time that week, clearly in pain, clearly needing help. It tweaked something in her brain. No, it didn’t just tweak her—it set her off, exploding in her chest and sending her running to the front door to… She didn’t know what she’d do when she had him cornered—keep him here so he’d explain? Make him stay so she could take care of him? Whatever it was, she couldn’t stand this feeling of impotence.
Oh, she’d felt it before, hadn’t she? The inability to do a single blessed thing to help. But she could help this man, if he’d only let her. And there was no way she’d let him push her away like this.
So rather than go back to worry, to wait, to wonder in silence, George walked out her front door.
She tromped down the stairs, eyes going right to where his truck was turning around in the cul-de-sac. She stalked out into the road and waited.
The truck stopped; she walked around to the passenger door and climbed in, facing him, feeling so damned reckless.
Without even really thinking, she pulled back a hand and slapped his shoulder. “Don’t. Ever. Walk out on me again,” she said, her words more measured than her breathing.
“What are you—”
She scooted in and pushed at that shoulder again. It was a ridiculous, ineffectual move against someone so much larger than her, but she wanted to reach him, damn it. Wanted him to feel it.
“I don’t want to hurt you, George.”
“You don’t get to decide how much hurt I can take. So, just…fuck you for thinking you get to decide. For us. For me,” she spat, raising her hand in frustration. He reached out and grabbed it, drawing their eyes up together to where his inked fist held her naked one.
“Go inside, George.” He let her hand go.
“You…you need help, Andrew. Why won’t you trust me?”
He shook his head at her and looked away, and she wanted to scream with frustration. This was someone she could do something for. This wasn’t someone being threatened by disease and—
Unless… “Are you dying? Is that it? Do you need—”
“I’m not dying. I’m fine.”
“Oh, thank God,” she whispered on a great big sigh of relief. She wasn’t sure she could go another round with cancer as the enemy. “Why then?” She kept her eyes on that beautifully harsh face and thought, Fuck it. Just fuck it.
He leaned in to talk to her, eye to eye. “This isn’t gonna—”
She cut him off with her mouth, hard and wet against his, and there it was again, the zing of desire straight to her crotch.
With a grunt, he responded, one strong arm running down her body, under her bottom. He pulled her up and over the armrests, slamming her into his lap, her legs around his waist, strong arms hauling her against him, stuck tight between the wheel and his body.
An accidental tap against the horn, the sound of keys jingling, then the gearshift shoving into Park, and with a curse, Andrew tried to pull away, but she wouldn’t let him. Wouldn’t let go.
“This what you fuckin’ want?” He tilted his hips into hers, squeezed her ass tighter, pushed against her.
“Yes.”
“Doctor likes the bad boys, huh? That what you’re into?”
“No,” she whispered as she ground herself against him. And then stronger. “Maybe,” she said before pulling away. “But you don’t always get to decide. You don’t get to run away when things are tough. Remember that, okay? Remember that.”
He nodded, looking dazed, and George bit his lip before throwing open the driver’s-side door and sliding out, down, and onto the asphalt. “You coming?” she asked, channeling someone who knew what they were doing. It was an odd thing, this strength that ran through her. It made her feel like a different sort of woman—one who acted because it felt good, not because it was smart or made sense.
And there was one thing she knew for sure: this decision wasn’t even close to being smart, but whatever happened tonight, she would never let herself regret it.
* * *
Clay parked in front of George’s house and followed her, chastised but turned on like crazy. And wanting her to understand.
