“A nurse—and I believe a faerie nurse such as yourself is exactly what Teddy needs most.” Then Doc murmurs to himself. “Yes… that will do quite nicely indeed.”
“Alright,” I reply, unsure what’s involved but more than willing to do whatever I can. “What sort of nursing is required? You know I’m a baker, not a healer, right?”
Doc chuckles. “You don’t need formal training for what I have in mind. Besides, you have more healing skills where Teddy is concerned than you realize.” Doc explains about Teddy’s dressings that must be changed twice daily, half of which Teddy can’t reach, and the extra protein he’s going to need while he heals. Apparently I’ll be feeding Teddy a lot of bone broth, eggs, and fish.
When Doc leaves to checkTeddy once more before releasing him, Elvira hands me a sheet of instructions about caring for him. Glancing down at the list, I realize this is a full-time job, at least for the next week or so.
I guess the bakery is going to remain closed for longer than I anticipated, because Teddy is coming home with me.
Chapter 29
My Florence Nightingale
TEDDY
Sunday, July 15
“I don’t like that idea at all, Doc,” growls Jake. “Sophie doesn’t strike me as a good fit; she’s no Florence Nightingale. And under the circumstances… wouldn’t it be best if she and Teddy lived apart?”
“Let’s ask the patient.” Doc gives me a bright, toothy smile, his upper fangs mirroring the overhead lighting. “What do you say, Teddy?”
At first I was horrified at the idea of Sophie tending to my injuries… until I remembered her gentle touch when she bandaged me up last time… and her delectable, springtime scent… and her pouty, kissable lips, even when she’s spouting nonsense at me.
“Doc knows best,” I say, trying to be diplomatic. After all, Sophie is my alpha’s bonus sister; he’s extra sensitive where she is concerned… but then again so am I.
“Fine, Barker!” snaps Jake,his eyes twin slits. “But if you can’t control your wolf, I’ll haul your butt out of that cottage faster than you can say ‘Tinker Bell.’ Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” I reply meekly, but I can’t help the smile spreading across my face. “Ow,” I mumble when my split lip starts bleeding again.
Jake arches one dark eyebrow at me but says nothing more. Ten minutes later, Rob is lowering me into the passenger seat of my old Caddy. I groan and grimace but manage not to yelp out loud; after Rob closes the door, he hands Sophie my car keys. “Good luck, and if he gets out of hand, bite him; it worked on me.”
“Ha-ha, very funny.” Sophie is wearing cutoff jean shorts and an old t-shirt that she’s obviously outgrown, revealing more of her curves than my heart can handle at the moment.
Maybe Jake is right after all; being in such close proximity to my mate could be a bad idea—not because of my inner wolf, which is safely tucked inside until the next full moon—but because Sophie’s nearness might just kill me with unrequited love.
Rob leans down to the open window as Sophie scurries around to the driver’s side. “If you need any… er… manly assistance, just call.”
“Manly assistance?” I ask. Between my lack of sleep and the painkiller Doc gave me, I’m pretty groggy.
Rob rolls his eyes. “Yeah, like getting in and out of the shower, wolf cub.”
“Oh… got it. I’ll let you know.”
Rob pats the roof of the car and steps back as we pull away from the fire station. It’s a hot, humid,summer day, and we drive with the windows down because the air conditioning in this ancient car can’t blow hard enough to cool anything larger than a grasshopper.
An awkwardness descends between Sophie and me; at least we’re only a few blocks from the cottage, but the traffic on Main Street is slow because of the Riddle Hill Summer Fest.
Wait a minute… Why is Sophie here and not at the bakery, handing out samples? When I ask her, she compresses her lips and keeps her eyes planted on the road. “I closed the bakery for now.”
“But why? It’s your dream… it’s what you wanted…” My voice trails off.
Sophie waits until she pulls around a double-parked car before answering. “It’s still a dream, but the bakery’s not going anywhere. It can wait a couple weeks until you’re feeling better.”
“But you’ll miss the height of the summer season… and all the tourists… I don’t understand.”
Sophie doesn’t reply until she parks in the cottage’s driveway. “It wasn’t the same without you… working in the bakery, I mean.”
I wish I wasn’t so doped up, because I’m not sure I understand. Is Sophie saying what I think she’s saying? Does she actually want to work with me again?
