“I looked into him.”
“You look—”
“Dr. Collins?” Tina’s voice interrupted. “Should I send him back?”
Ivy held Gil’s gaze. He gave the barest hint of a nod, then resumed his seat.
“Yes, Tina. That’s fine.” She stood and waited. While she waited, she tried to figure out what had happened. She wasn’t used to being bossed around by anyone. She did the bossing. And Gil had no right—
A movement out of the corner of her eye arrested that thought. Gil had shifted so his weapon and badge were in full view. He’d also grabbed his phone and was texting someone. She’d guess Luke, Zane, and Tessa. Maybe Faith too.
His gaze caught hers and held, then softened. “It’s covered.”
Gah. He was so protective. It was almost smothering. Almost. But then a spike of pain shot through her right arm, and she remembered that it was Gil who had appeared in the middle of her nightmare. Gil who had protected her since. Gil who had never given her any reason not to trust him. His protectiveness might be over the top, but she didn’t feel smothered.
She felt safe.
He was being unreasonable about Ab, but he didn’t know him. After he met him, it would be fine.
Gil hadn’t moved from his seat, but she could sense the tension coming from him. “It would probably be best for you to choose your words carefully when you explain what happened. Do you follow me?”
“You want me to lie?” She could hear her disgust at the thought.
“No. But you don’t have to go into detail. Please.”
“Okay.”
He closed his eyes, the relief palpable, and leaned forward. He almost looked like he was relaxed.
“Ivy?”
She looked from Gil to the door. Ab stood there, eyes raking over her, heavy on her right arm and hand, lingering at the bruising on her cheek she hadn’t been able to completely hide with makeup, and landing on the split at the corner of her lip.
“What on earth happened?” Ab was in her space before she could respond. One hand on her right elbow. One at her hairline. “What’s going on, baby?”
She’d always liked the way he called her “baby.” It was sweet. Tender. Especially coming from a mountain of a man like Ab. But with Gil sitting ten feet away, she wished he would drop the “baby” and also let her go. She stepped back, and his hands dropped from her and landed on his waist. “Ab—”
“I want to know what happened to you.”
“If you’ll stop being bossy, I’ll tell you.” She took another step back. “But first, I’d like to introduce you to someone.”
She turned and indicated Gil. When she did, he stood, approached, and extended his hand. “Gil Dixon.”
Ab took Gil’s hand and what commenced was a handshake showdown that, until that moment, Ivy thought happened only in books. She’d never imagined two people she cared about could take such an instantaneous dislike to each other.
“Why don’t we sit?” Ivy motioned to the table.
Both of them frowned but moved toward the chairs. If they hadn’t, she might have been forced to call Luke or Zane to come rescue her, and Gil probably wouldn’t like that. No, she’d call Tessa. One look at her and Ab would fall at Tessa’s feet in immediate adoration, and the crisis would be averted.
Both men remained standing until she sat. Then Gil returned to the seat he’d had earlier and resumed eating his sandwich. Ab took the seat she indicated and sat, but barely. He looked ready tospring from his seat at the first sign of trouble. Between Ab and Gil, Ab was the one who looked like he thought she was in immediate danger. If she hadn’t had to talk Gil off the ledge five minutes earlier, she wouldn’t have had a clue how tight he was strung.
“Ivy?” Ab’s question rumbled out of him—deep, serious, and insistent. “You were fine on Thursday. Today you’re banged up and bruised.”
“I’m fine.”
Both Gil and Ab bristled at her words, and she looked at them in turn. “I am fine.” She enunciated each word. “The situation is ... complicated.”
“I’m not blind, Ivy. I can see the splints.”
