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My grin slips into a grimace. “Very funny.”
“You started the rumor. I’m just watching it grow.” She mimics a flower blooming.
“Why are you really taking it?”
“None of your business.”
“Did you hurt yourself?”
“This conversation is far more painful,” she clips.
“The faster you tell me, the sooner we can move along.”
“I stepped on a rusty nail. Pierced straight through my boot. Happy?”
The horror streaking across my face reveals just how unhappy I am. “When did this happen?”
Her arms cross, silently demanding I kick rocks. But she still answers. “A few days ago.”
“While I was gone for the Polk County Rodeo?”
“Um, sure?”
“Are you okay?” The tremble in my voice would be embarrassing under any other circumstance.
“Oh. My. Gosh. It was barely a scratch. I only need the pills to prevent infection. I’ve been through much worse.” Her brows lift in my direction, suggesting that I’m the culprit rather than the scars marring her arm and leg.
“Well, I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you from the nail. That wouldn’t have happened under my watch. It’s safe to say I won’t leave town ever again, unless you’re at my side.”
It’s her turn to look gravely ill. “No. No, no, no. You should be out there sowing all your wild oats. Don’t let this little incident stop you.”
But I wag my index finger. “You’re the only wild oat I want to sow. I’m going to be stuck to you like flies on manure.”
Her nose crinkles at the romantic visual I just painted. “How completely unnecessary. Your harem of horny hotties will be crushed.”
“I already told them I’m off the market. This cowboy is all yours.”
“But I don’t want him.”
I clutch at my heart. “Wildflower, be gentle. It might be hard to believe, but I do have feelings.”
Gemma rubs her temples, indicating that I’m giving her another headache. “Are we done? I’m working.”
“Before you kick me out, and since you asked so nicely, I brought you these.” I pass the bottle of pills across the counter.
She snatches her prescription and inspects the label closely. “Where did you get them?”
“Your apartment.”
“Who let you in?” Concern begins pinching her voice.
“Me, myself, and I.”
“You broke into my apartment?!” When she asks in such a shrill tone, I sound like a dangerous criminal.
“Did you expect anything less for a groveling man?”
“Jeez, I dunno? Maybe you could respect my privacy.”
