“Then you understand my motivation.”
The two men continue talking while I automatically look Axle over.
A professional assessment, of course.
“How are your ribs feeling?” I ask.
His gaze shifts toward me, and a smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. “They’re good.”
I narrow my eyes. “Let me see.”
His eyebrows rise.
A beat passes.
Then his smile turns wicked. “You trying to get me naked again, Doc?”
Heat rushes into my face.
Beside me, Charli goes completely still as she watches us.
“Shirt up,” I say firmly.
Axle chuckles. “Bossy.”
“Now, Axle.”
He grabs the hem and tugs the shirt off, then walks the few paces between us until he’s towering over me. He hands the shirt to me. “All yours.”
My brain chooses that exact moment to stop functioning.
Professional.
Professional.
Professional.
“Raise your right arm.”
He does as I asked, and I bend closer to focus on the injury. The bruising has faded considerably, but there’s still some swelling and tenderness.
“Any pain when you breathe?”
“No.”
“Cough?”
“No.”
“Sleeping?”
He raises a brow.
Right. I already know the answer to that one.
I step back and hand his shirt back to him. “Okay.”
“Good to go?” he asks.
