Silence fell over us, and Nolan’s gaze flicked between us. I hadn’t said a word. I wondered how messy I appeared, wrapped in Roman’s arms and a scratchy gray blanket.
Before I could let the embarrassment break through, a friendly smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Sorry, I should’ve introduced myself before, but I’m Nolan.” He gave me a small wave in lieu of a handshake. “I’m Roman’s brother-in-law.”
Brother-in-law? The fact that Roman had once been married, and very much in love from what I could tell, barreled through me. I should not be sitting on his lap.
“Oh—hi,” I said softly, shifting to slide off Roman.
He tightened his hold on me. “You’re not going anywhere,” he grumbled into my ear.
I shivered. Heat crept up my neck, but I didn’t speak.
“Nolan, have that detective call me. Tell Shawn I need him to take care of things at the firehouse while I take care of things here.”
Nolan’s attention went back to Roman, and he straightened at the command in his tone. “Got it. I’ll take care of it.”
The tension in Roman’s body eased slightly. “Thank you.”
Nolan nodded and stepped out of the ambulance, leaving Roman and me alone.
“I’m fine,” I said quietly, but my voice didn’t sound right. It sounded off, like it didn’t really belong to me. “You can go to work—”
I barely finished the sentence before Roman stood. He lifted me in his arms like I weighed nothing. The blanket stayed wrapped tight around me as he stepped down from the ambulance.
I yelped and wrapped my arms around his neck as he started to walk toward the familiar path back to the house.
“Roman,” I hissed. “I can walk.”
“But you don’t have to,” he said, focusing straight ahead.
I glanced down at his bare feet in the snow. He was probably still ill, too. He shouldn’t be carrying me. He shouldn’t be out in this cold with barely any clothes.
“Roman, you’re sick.”
He only pulled me closer.
“Shh,” he murmured.
His breath was warm against my skin, sending a chill down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
“Let me take care of you for once.”
20
Roman
Palmerwasnotgoodat letting people take care of her.
I had an old family friend who was an MD come to the house to assess her and see whether she needed to go to urgent care. Thankfully, it seemed that wasn’t warranted. At least, not yet. I’d have to keep a close eye on her for the next twenty-four hours. Her bandages would need changing, and I’d have tohelp keep her on a schedule of over-the-counter pain meds and antibiotics.
But Palmer wasn’t easily persuaded to rest.
She kept hopping out of bed like a nervous rabbit whenever she was left alone, and I’d find her trying to clean the counters in her bathroom with her damn elbows or something equally ridiculous.
It came down to me having to stay in her room, watching her from the armchair in the corner, so she didn’t make things worse than they already were.
She grumbled under her breath as she shifted lower beneath the covers, shooting me glares from her bed.
“I’m sure you have better things to do than sit there all day,” she said.
