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Jo’s unflappable gaze lingered on the doctor. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

“Yes,” he said. “I suppose they can.” He stared at her for a long moment. “Fine. I’ll release him to you and get you a copy of the discharge papers.”

As soon as the doctor disappeared through the door, Cam rolled his eyes. “He said that like he thought I’d need good luck to get through this.”

Jo’s mouth twitched with the effort to hold back a smile. “I think he meant good luck with shoving away all the people who want to take care of you.”

Cam pushed himself to a sitting position, keeping the blanket over his lap. “Unless you’re looking for a show, you should wait in the hall while I get dressed,” he said.

Jo stood up and looked around. “Where are your clothes?”

He began to shake his head. Stopped abruptly. Fuck a duck, that hurt, too. “No clue. I’d guess in that closet over there,” he said, nodding at the built-in wood cabinet.

Jo walked over to it, and Cam couldn’t resist watching the graceful way her hips swung.She opened the door and gathered Cam’s clothes from the hangars. She set them on the bed, then put his shoes on the floor. “I’ll help you with the shoes after you get dressed,” she said. “I think your head would object, loudly, if you tried bending over to put them on and tie them.”

“Okay,” he said, the effort to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed exhausting him. “I’ll call you when I’m dressed.”

“I’ll help you if you need it,” she said. Her mouth curled into a mischievous grin. “I’ve seen one or three naked men before.”

“Get out of here, Jo,” he said, barely avoiding grinning back at her. “The day I can’t dress myself will be a cold day in hell.”

She held up her hands. “Just offering,” she said, her lips still quivering with her smile. “Yell when you’re decent.”

Ten minutes later, he was in a wheelchair, waiting at the exit for Jo to pull up in her car. Eventually she showed up, easing the little tin can to the curb in front of the door. She hopped out and opened the passenger door as the nurse wheeled him toward her. “Not sure I’m gonna fit in there,” he said.

“I’ll get a shoehorn if I need one,” Jo said, shoving her fingers through her dark red, wavy hair fluttering around her face in the sharp breeze.

Cam stood up and took a step toward the car, feeling suddenly unsteady. Wobbly. Jo curled one arm around his waist, holding him against her, as she walked him toward the car. There was a wheelchair opening in the curb, so he could shuffle his feet as she walked him slowly to the car door.

When they reached the car, he turned so his back was to the seat, folded himself in half, and sat down heavily. Before he could swing his legs in, Jo lifted them and guided them onto the floor. When she was sure he was all the way in, she closed the door.

He saw her say something to the aide who had rolled him to her car, and the aide smiled. Nodded. Then Jo hurried around the car and slid into the driver’s seat.

She twisted the key, and the car coughed a couple times before it turned over. She shifted into first and drove away. As they left the grounds and turned onto the main highway, she shifted like a pro.

“How’d you learn to drive a stick?”he asked.

“I learned in the Army. No automatic transmissions for them. It was all stick-shift. I either had to learn to drive one or rely on someone else to get me where I needed to be. Since I didn’t like that option, I learned to drive a stick.”

At the next stoplight, as they waited for the light to turn green, she wrestled her phone out of her coat pocket. Handed it to him. “Would you open the maps app and type in your address?” She nodded at the cord lying on the console between them. “Then plug it in.”

It only took a few moments to do that, then the map with the directions popped up on the small screen. “Thanks,” she said, shooting him a quick smile.

The tiny car droned over the pavement, and Cam’s eyes drifted closed. Jo was a good driver, never slamming on the brakes or accelerating too fast. His head was grateful.

After what seemed like a minute, she touched his shoulder. “We’re here, Cam,” she said softly. “At your house.”

He shot up in his seat, shocked that he’d fallen asleep. “Thanks, Jo,” he said, still groggy. “I’ll get it from here.”

She put her hand over his, and electricity shot through his skin and bones. “You keep your butt in that seat,” she ordered him. “I’m walking you to your door. I don’t want to have to scrape your sorry ass off the pavement.”

He struggled to open his door as he waited for Jo to walk around the back of the car. Before he could get it open, Jo was there. She unlatched the door and pulled it open, then he realized that she’d backed into his driveway. It made a shorter trip to his front door, and he was suddenly very grateful. He needed to go to bed and get some sleep.

She wrapped her arm around his waist again, as if she’d done it a hundred times, and eased him to his feet. He liked the pressure of her fingers against him. Liked it too much.

But before he could think about that, she gripped his waist and walked him over the sidewalk toward the front door. Then, still gripping his waist, she helped him up the stairs to the front door. They took the steps one at a time, and she was amazingly patient. Never rushed him. Let him walk at his own pace. Finally, when they were at the door, she held out her hand. “Keys, please.”

He handed them over and she unlocked the door. Helped him into the living room. When she tried follow him, he spun around and faced her. His head spinning, he put both hands on the door frame, facing her. Blocking her way into the house, although he hoped she didn’t realize that.