“You can take her down to room eight. Go around the back, though.”
“Thank you,” he tells her.
We get settled in the room, and Austin rolls the sleeve of my country-style, red-and-black-plaid shirt up above my elbow. “Sit down on the bed,” he tells me with a look of concern pooling within his dreamy eyes.
I hop up and squiggle back so I’m comfortable. Austin pulls up a rolling stool and sits down in front of my dangling legs. He lifts my hand and runs his fingers down the length of my fingers. His touch sends shivers up my spine. “Can you feel my touch?”
I can feel everything. “Yeah,” I say, sounding more breathless than intended.
“Do your fingers feel cold?”
“No, just sensitive.”
“Your fingertips are cold to the touch,” he says.
“Is that bad?”
He squeezes my fingers gently, then closes his hands over them. “We gotta warm them up.”Oh, you are.
“I don’t have to get undressed again, do I?” I ask him.
“Not unless you want to,” he says with a quick wink.
“Real professional,” I fire back. I know he’s been trying to be as professional as possible around me, especially at the hospital, but I can play too.
He gasps softly and looks around, seeming worried as if he’d be in trouble if someone just heard that exchange. “I’m sorry. It was a joke,” he says, placing his hand on his chest. “Honest.”
“I’m fucking with you,” I tell him.
His lips form into the shape of an O. “Wow, here I am trying to care for you, and you’re screwin’ with me?” His voice is soft, probably so no one hears the way he’s speaking to me, which makes me laugh.
“I won’t get you fired.”
“Thank you,” he says.
“Today.”
“Girl, you are trouble, looking for trouble.”
I raise a brow and pinch my lips to the side for a short second. “Well, it looks like I might have found it.”
* * *
“Feelin’ better now?” Austin asks me. I’m scraping at a speck of the cast material that stuck to my arm, and he’s leaning against the doorway of the room with his feet crossed, arms folded over his chest.
“I do. Thank you for noticing that there was a problem. I wouldn’t have thought much of it.”
“You’re lucky you ran into me tonight,” he says. I think I can agree with that for more than just medical reasons.
“Am I?” I ask with a quirky grin.
“I ain’t answering that for you. Let’s get you back to the festival before it’s over.”
I look down at my watch, noting it’s nine. I’ve learned that everything in this town shuts down early most of the time, so I don’t know how late the festival runs. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s already over. “Does everything close down at ten around here or what?”
“No, the festival will go through midnight, but the shops close at ten.”
“I’m trying to get used to everything closing down early around here. Most places are open all night in Boston.”
