Practically stomping without knowing why, Ford started to say something—and he stepped on a bee. The hot burn immediately told him he’d been stung. “Son of a—” Everyone turned to him as he hopped around in pain.
Knox was the first to reach him, grabbing his arm and steering him to Skye’s small patio. “Sit down.”
She didn’t have chairs, so he lowered his ass onto the concrete as the throbbing in his foot intensified.
Squatting down, Knox said, “Damn, man.” He pinched the stinger, flicked it away, and then with a whistle, asked, “Are you allergic to bees?”
“No idea. I don’t think I’ve ever been stung.” Ford contorted himself to view the bottom of his foot, then cursed again. Already bright red and swelling impressively, it was something to see. And now that he saw the sting, it hurt even more.
“I’ll grab some ice.” Skye darted into her house, leaving the door open behind her, and seconds later she came rushing back out with a small plastic bowl of ice. Kneeling, she set the bowl aside and gently held one frozen cube against his foot. “This will help.”
Ford stared at the top of her head while she circled the ice over the sting. When he glanced at his friends, he saw them all grinning.
Yeah, he felt like a fool. “It’s fine.”
“You’re definitely allergic,” she countered. Lifting the ice, she pressed the backs of her fingers to his foot. “It’s already hot. Do you have an antihistamine?”
He grumbled, “I’m a pharmaceutical rep, not a drugstore.”
Exasperated, she told Knox, “Keep rubbing the ice on his foot.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Back in the house she went.
Knox attempted to do as ordered, but Ford didn’t let him.
“Give me that.” He could damn well ice his own foot.
Rushing back out again, Skye held two pill bottles in one hand and a cola in the other. “Here, an antihistamine and pain pills.”
Appalled, Ford pulled back. “I don’t need those.” Sure, he had pain, but it wasn’t all that. He didn’t want everyone standing around fussing over him.
Lucy bent down to peer at his foot, then winced. “Take the meds, Ford, or your foot will be too swollen for you to walk.”
Patting his shoulder, Karen offered encouragement. “They’ll help, I promise.”
Rolling his eyes, he said, “It’s only a bee sting.”
Skye deftly popped out the pills and lifted them to his mouth. “Stop being a baby.”
Unbelievable.
Mocking him, Marcus said, “Stop being a baby, Ford,” in a ridiculous voice.
“Here.” Knox took one of the pills, and then pretended to fly it toward his mouth . . . the way a mother might do with a toddler she was feeding. “Open up so the plane can land.”
“Swear to God, Knox, I’m going to punch you.”
Chuckling, Knox said, “You’re stressing out the ladies. Just take your medicine, already.”
Bray crossed his massive arms. “I could hold him while you jam them down his throat. Had to do that with Rebel once when he needed meds. Poor dog hated me for an hour.”
Ford narrowed his eyes. “I would hate you forlife.” Huffing, he stuck out his open palm in silent demand.
Skye glanced at everyone, bit her lip to hold back a grin, and gave him the pills.
After tossing them back, he took a drink of cola to wash them down. “Is everyone happy now?” Without waiting for an answer,he got to his feet, or rather foot, and—hobbling—started back to his place. Silence reigned behind him. Not the good kind, but the kind that spelled either trouble or uproarious laughter.
