He raised one finger and pressed it to her lips. “Shh… you can fight me on this later, okay? Can you let someone else take care of you for a few minutes? Will you do that?” She gazed back at him as though mesmerized. Sensing she’d lost some of her scrappiness– for now– Elliot took hold of the cloth clutched against her chest and cautiously eased it away.
It was still bleeding but not like it had been before. She’d require stitches though. Damn, that glass had gone deep. Which reminded him, he still had it in his pocket.
Elliot found two clean cloths, dampened one of them with warm water and kept the other dry.
Something he’d said must have finally penetrated her stubbornness because she sat still as he wiped around the cut and then cleaned her hands. When he was finished, he took hold of the bottom of her t-shirt. “Let’s get this mess off you.” Surprisingly, she nodded in agreement and allowed him to lift it over her head.
He did his best to focus on the task at hand. She trusted him right now. Not a good time to ogle the plump flesh threatening to spill out of her bra.
Another of her garments soaked in blood.
She reached out, took the dry cloth from him and held it up against the wound. “The hooks are in back.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
Elliot draped the pink gown around the front of her and then unclasped her bra. She wiggled out of it and tossed it into the waste bin. “It’ll never come out,” she said on a sigh.
She pulled the gown around herself and shivered. “It’s freezing in here.”
It wasn’t really, but she’d begun to shiver again. Handily enough, there was a blanket stacked on one of the counters. “Lay down.”
She did so without question. She even let him place the pillow under her head.
In fact, that was when he saw her first, genuine smile– even if it was a little weak. “You’re not such an asshole after all, Elliot Stafford.”
Well, hell. That was the most sincere compliment he’d received in ages.
Just then a young woman with a stethoscope entered the room and introduced herself as Dr. Myers. Noel raised up on her elbows to acknowledge the doctor. In spite of her discomfort, she tried to smile– a ghost of the fake one again. The one he’d seen when she was behind the bar.
Her blood pressure was a little low and her heart rate high, which was to be expected. “I’m going to put in a few stitches, Noel, but I want to make sure there isn’t any more glass inside. It went pretty deep and I’d hate to stitch it up without checking.”
By now the nurse had returned and was opening some sterilized packages and laying the contents out on a metal stand. “We’ll give her a local anesthesia so I can irrigate and dig around a bit.” Dr. Myers turned on a bright light and then addressed Elliot. “This shouldn’t take very long.”
Less than anhour later, Elliot was once again assisting Noel back to his rental car. The storm had picked up and the falling snow had softened the entire landscape.
Noel had softened up as well. The doctor’d given her a tetanus shot, along with some antibiotics and Vicodin. It was obvious the pain medication had kicked in.
“El-ee-ot. Are you named after somebody El-ee-ot?” Her words were slightly slurred as she sang out his name. “In a thousand years I wouldn’t have guessed your name. I would think maybe Thor or Zane, ya know, something really sexy. But I like it. I like El-ee-ot. Sexy, sexy El–ee–ot.” She readily leaned into him, one arm around his waist.
“Watch your head.” He helped her into the car as she rambled on about his name– and how sexy he was. He couldn’t help grinning as she repeated it over and over again. When she finally paused for a breath, he answered, “I’m named after my grandfather.” Not that she would remember. And, “So not only am I not an asshole, but I’m sexy too?”
“So, so sexy,” she answered seriously. “El–ee–ot.”
Obviously, Noel couldn’t drive herself anywhere tonight. “Noel, sweetheart?” He tried to get her attention. “Noel, can you tell me how to get you home?”
“Home? Home? You can’t take me home!”
“I need to take you somewhere, and I’d think home makes the most sense.” He reasoned with her as though she were a child. She wore the hospital gown beneath her coat and had let down her pony tail sometime in the exam room.
“It’s too far. Takes an hour– longer in bad weather. I can crash at Rory’s.” And then she added, “El-ee-ot.”
It was well past one in the morning. Elliot’s guess was that Rory had left the hotel already. “There are two beds in my room. You can sleep there.” He was not letting her drive anywhere.
“El-ee-ot?” she said his name as a question.
“Yeah?” He put the car in gear and cautiously crept out of the snow-covered lot.
“El-ee-ot? You’re so handsome and seem pretty well-off. How come you aren’t very happy?”
The question jolted him. “Why don’t you think I’m happy?”
