Page 45 of Beach Cottage Kisses

“I had every intention of doing so,” he told her. “I’m independent and determined but I am not lacking in intelligence.” He took a deep breath. And then said, “I also have no intention of going back to that hospital tonight.”

That made her smile. And to touch his shoulder as she said, “I know this is hard, but you’ll be through it before you know it.” She was speaking from experience.

Not that he was ever going to know that.

* * *

Scott might not admit it to anyone except himself, but he was inordinately relieved to see the turnout of Ocean Breeze residents in his driveway. Machismo was great, but it hadn’t gotten him out to Iris’s car at the hospital, and he’d been dreading the trip into his cottage.

Once there, he’d be fine. Figure things out.

As it was, he did pretty damned good. With a man on each side of him, supporting his back and his weight, he managed to use them as crutches and get his one-legged walk to propel him slowly inside. The trip didn’t do his back any good.He was sweating by the time he was propped with his leg elevated on his couch.

Which was when he noticed Harper, the accomplished choreographer who lived next door to him, entering the cottage behind Iris, carrying his crutches. Iris’s hands were filled with the rest of the stuff they’d brought home from the hospital.

Including a pad for his bed so the mattress didn’t get soiled.

From wound seepage, he’d told himself the nurse had meant as she’d rambled on in her no-nonsense tone about things he’d rather not be topics of conversation with Iris Shiprock present.

He was to report if he had any change in bowel movements. Great. He’d be sure to run that one up the flagpole.

“Seriously, Iris, I can stay tonight, if you’d like. I don’t have rehearsal until noon tomorrow, and that way you wouldn’t have to miss your early-morning shoot.”

Iris had been commissioned to do a series of photographs of the sun rising over various parts of the city for a tourist site. He’d forgotten.

Felt like a fool. And knew a moment of near panic, too. He’d been counting on her being with him that night.

Just for the night.

Hadn’t thought about her needing to be home to shower and get to work.

“Like I said, I’ve already got it covered,” Iris was saying, in a tone that got Scott’s full attention. “I called and put the photo shoot back a couple of weeks. And I’ve got all the instructions from the hospital.” She sounded…proprietary.

And he liked it.

Which sent all kinds of warning signals along his very sore spine. Whether he was better or not in the morning,he was going to have to fake it well enough to get Iris out of his home.

When he’d been accepting her presence under duress, he’d been okay with it. For the one night, of course.

But no way could he have her there if either of them took ownership of her right to be the one helping him.

“Besides,” Iris said, pulling things out of her bag and setting them up on the bar he’d built between the kitchen and living room, “I gave Sage my word…”

Ahh… Scott relaxed back as well as he could under the circumstances. Feeling better as the wave of disappointment passed through him.

Iris wasn’t getting all possessive over him.

She was keeping the promise she’d made to her best friend.

Who was his twin sister.

Not him.

He was free once again to resent the hell out of her occupancy of his private space.

And would get around to it.

As soon as he got the excruciating pain shooting through his back and shocking his left knee under control.