Page 27

I pry my eyes open as he presses a cotton ball to my inner elbow and wraps a bright pink stretchy bandage around it. “You can take it off in five to ten minutes. You’re free to leave.”

“Thank you.” I jump up, more than ready to be out of here. The second I stand, little black dots mar my vision, and I stumble forward…

Right into Noah’s arms.

“Whoa there,” the tech laughs. “I didn’t take that much blood.”

“She’s been feeling rough today,” Noah says, the words rumbling in his chest. And I can feel them because I happen to be pressed against said chest. And holy crow, what a nice place to be.

Noah loops an arm around my waist to keep me from falling, and now his hand rests on my lower back. My shirt is up a smidge, and his fingers hover over bare skin.

“You want some apple juice?” the tech asks.

I step away from Noah, though believe me, I have no desire to do so.

“I’m okay,” I say. “I think I just stood up a little too quickly.”

The man nods. “You sure?”

“Yep.”

“All right then.” He steps out of the room. “You two have a good day.”

“Are you ready to go?” Noah asks as soon as we’re alone.

“Yeah.”

He directs me to the elevator, apparently not trusting me on the stairs. As we take the short ride down, I close my eyes and lean my head back. The motion makes me feel a little woozy.

When the doors open, Noah loops his arm with mine, tugging me into the foyer. An elderly woman with a walker bestows a benevolent smile upon us, probably thinking we’re a couple.

We reach Noah’s SUV, and he opens the door for me. If we weren’t walking out of my physician’s office, and if I were wearing something other than flip-flops and a pair of artfully torn jeans I found at a secondhand shop, this might feel like a date.

I slide into the passenger’s side of the vehicle, accidentally knocking off a receipt on the console. When I turn to pick it up, my eyes fall on a duffle bag that sits on the back seat. It’s half open, and I can’t figure out what he’s got in there.

Noah glances back when he slides into the driver’s seat. “Landscaping stakes.”

“Why do you keep them in a duffel bag?”

“I didn’t want them rolling around in the backseat.”

“Huh.” I retrieve the receipt and tuck it into one of the cup holders. “Are you redoing your yard?”

“My parents are putting in a new patio.”

“How long have you been back in town?”

He glances over as he turns onto the road. “About a month.”

“Where were you before?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

I sit back, staring out the windshield, trying to hold my tongue.

Noah glances over. “Did your doctor give you any dietary restrictions?”

“I’m supposed to eat meat,” I say darkly.