Page 8

8

J ameson studied the small woman sitting at the table.

Ian wasn’t wrong. She looked pale and exhausted. And while he might have exaggerated about the bleeding since it had mostly stopped, she still needed close watching.

“You really haven’t eaten since this morning?” he asked, moving his fingers to her wrist to take her pulse. It wasn’t a big deal to skip a few meals.

“It’s fine. I often go for long hours without eating. I’m used to it.”

Okay, that he didn’t like. “You’re used to it?” He studied the tips of her fingers. They were shriveled. She was clearly dehydrated.

“Ah, yeah. Sometimes I can go all day without eating. I’m really fine.” She watched him closely as though she couldn’t believe he was real.

He had to tamp down the urge to preen.

Jameson knew he was being an idiot. He was thirty-six-years old. This girl had to be at least ten years younger than him. He couldn’t let her clear admiration go to his head.

She was just a baby.

“No, you’re not fine,” he said in a much firmer voice than he’d intended. “You are dehydrated and tired. Now, eat your food.”

Ian grunted, clearly glad that he was backing him up. Jameson felt a surge of rightness. It had been a long time since he’d felt this protective of someone.

Since he’d felt the urge to take care of and dominate a woman.

Then her lower lip trembled and he had to fight the need to tell her that she could do whatever she wanted as long as she didn’t look at him with such devastation.

Bloody hell. What was wrong with him? He was a doctor. And for years, he’d been a Daddy Dom. He was used to being firm, to doing what was best for someone, even if they might not necessarily see it that way.

Yet one trembling lip and he was willing to give this girl whatever she desired.

“I need sleep,” he muttered.

“Oh no, you’re tired?” she asked.

Funny, all devastation had been wiped off her face. Had she been playing him?

Little brat.

He wiped that thought quickly from his mind. He had no idea if she was a Little or not. And he wasn’t going to find out.

She’s a patient.

Nothing more.

“I’m fine,” he said coolly.

Maggie gave him a confused look.

“I’ve just worked a fourteen-hour shift since one of our doctors is off sick. So I was looking forward to going home to bed.”

“And you got called here to deal with my tiny scratch,” she said understandingly, pulling her foot from his lap. “I get it. You should go home and rest. All this needs is a Band-Aid. Like I said.” She glared at Ian.

She was a brave Little thing to take on Ian. Grown men had been known to cower when he frowned at them.

Ian glared back at her. She just wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue at him. Jameson let out a surprised bark of laughter.

She turned to smile at him happily.

Fuck. What was he doing?

It must be the lack of sleep. Because he had the weird urge to pull her onto his lap and hug her tight? And at the same time, he wanted to scold her for hurting herself.

It was peculiar.

Yes, he definitely needed to go home and get some sleep.

“Did you just stick your tongue out at me?” Ian barked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jack started whistling. Jameson glanced up to see the other man staring hard at Maggie. Generally, Jack didn’t find much interesting. But the way he was looking at Maggie . . . hmm, that was unusual.

“I think there might be a problem with his voice too,” she whispered to Jameson. “He’s always barking. Like a dog. Or growling. Like a bear. Ooh, maybe he’s a shapeshifter.” She stared at Ian like she thought that was an actual possibility.

Ian groaned, rubbing his hand over his face.

Jack reached over to pat his back.

“Sweetheart, you might want to ease up before you give Ian a stroke,” Jameson warned.

“Oh dear, I guess that is a possibility at his age.” She chewed her lip adorably.

Trouble. Pure trouble.

“I’ll try to be nicer.” Leaning over, she patted Ian’s arm. “Why don’t you sit down? Take a load off. Let me make you a cup of tea.” She tried to stand, but both he and Ian reached for her, holding her to the chair.

“Stay seated. You’re bleeding,” Ian barked.

She gave Jameson a ‘see what I mean?’ look. He had to bite back a smile.

Lord. She was running rings around Ian. The poor guy looked like he was about to blow.

“And I’m not bleeding. All I need is a Band-Aid.”

Jameson picked up her foot and noted that there was now a streak of blood running down it. “Ahh, Shortcake, this will need more than just a Band-Aid.”

Hell’s bells. Had he called her that?

Her eyes were wide and her mouth had parted.

Fuck. What was he thinking?

But there was just something about the way she stared at him that made him feel good.

Like he was special.

Which you’re not. Asshole.

“Why does everyone keep calling me short?” she asked. “I’m not little.”

Ian snorted. “You’re tiny. You barely even reach the middle of my chest.”

“Maybe I’m not tiny. Perhaps you’re just a giant. It’s all about perspective.”

Jameson placed a soft pad on the cut on her foot, then wrapped a bandage around it.

“And I might be short, but I have muscle.”

“Show us these muscles,” Jack requested.

She went to push up the sweatshirt sleeve for her right arm, then paused. Instead, she pushed back her left sleeve. Then she lifted her arm, flexing. “See? Look at my guns.”

“Guns?” Ian asked. “Water guns, you mean.”

“Rude,” she muttered, dropping her arm.

Was she left-handed?

“You’ll lose all of those impressive muscles if you don’t start eating,” Jameson told her.

She wrinkled her nose as she stared at the omelet.

“You don’t like omelets?” Jameson asked. “Do you want something else?” He’d finished wrapping her foot, but he couldn’t seem to let go of her.

“She should eat what she’s given,” Ian muttered.

Jameson turned to frown at him. They’d had this talk many times. Sometimes, the grumpy bastard needed to think before he spoke.

Ian sighed at the look and nodded.

“I’m not going to ask what he said,” Maggie said with a yawn. “Words muttered are best left unheard. I’m putting that on a T-shirt.”

“Okay,” Jameson said, even though he had no idea what she was talking about.

But she looked dead on her feet and was pushing her food around with her fork.

Which she held in her right hand. Odd.

“You need to eat, sweetheart. Then get to bed.”

She just smiled at him and continued to push her food around. Obviously, she thought that had been a suggestion.

You need to be firmer with her.

Tell her she’s going to get her ass spanked if she doesn’t start eating.

Or pick up the fork and feed her yourself.

He ignored the urges and stood. “I need to go home.”

“How is her foot? What does she need to do to take care of it?” Ian barked.

Jack just watched him silently, assessing. That bastard saw much more than he let on.

“Foot wounds heal quickly,” he said in a terse voice. “Stay off it as much as possible tomorrow. Call me if it keeps bleeding or becomes infected.”

“Thanks so much for coming,” Maggie told him, staring up at him adoringly. “Will I see you again?”

“Unlikely.”

Her face fell and he felt like the biggest prick on the planet. Ian elbowed him in the back. That had definitely been on purpose. Turning, he frowned at the other man.

“I’ll walk you out,” she said quietly.

“No,” he said at the same time as Ian barked out an order for her to stay put.

She stared between them both as Jack shoved them out of the way and took his spot in Jameson’s chair.

Jameson had to fight the urge to shove him away and sit back down. Especially when Jack plucked the fork from her fingers.

“Do you need me to feed you? I can make noises, if you like.” Jack winked at her.

“Noises?” she asked.

“Hmm. What do you like? The rollercoaster?” Jack put some egg on the fork and then moved it up and down as though he was riding a rollercoaster. Then he screamed, making her jump.

“What was that?” she cried.

“That’s what people do on a rollercoaster, right? They scream. Now, open wide, it’s coming into the tunnel.”

She just stared at Jack.

“What?” he asked.

“Idiot, there’s no food on the fork now,” Jameson told him tightly.

“Oh, whoops.”

Maggie started giggling. Did she really find that funny? Jack was being an idiot, and Jameson wasn’t sure what he thought he was doing.

“Just move aside and let me do it.” He pushed at Jack as Maggie stared at him in surprise.

“I thought you had to go. You need your beauty sleep, remember?” Ian said, grabbing his shoulder and steering him away from Jack and Maggie.

“Let’s try this again. I know, how about a boat this time? It can be on rough seas.”

Maggie giggled and the sound hit him like a fist to the gut. He had to get out of here. Now.

He rushed past Ian and toward the door.

“Wait up,” Ian commanded.

“I’m leaving.”

“Jameson.” Ian reached out and grabbed his shoulder. “Stop for a moment.”

“You could have handled that small cut on her foot yourself,” he told the other man, whirling around. “You and I both know that. So why call for me?”

“I wanted her to have the best medical care available.”

Jameson just stared at him and Ian sighed. When had he started looking so tired?

He couldn’t remember Ian ever seeming this knackered. Even when they were in the armed forces.

Then again . . . Jameson seemed to look more and more weary every time he glimpsed in the mirror.

“And maybe I wanted to see you. You don’t have to avoid us, you bastard. We’re not going to force you into anything you don’t want.”

Meaning a relationship with the two of them. Not a sexual one. They weren’t attracted to one another. But a relationship with the same woman. Where they shared her and worked together to protect and cherish and love her.

Only . . . Jameson no longer wanted that. He’d run from that. From them.

Coward.

“I’m not avoiding you,” he told Ian.

“Liar.”

That’s what he was. A liar.

“I’m going now. Make sure she stays off that foot for at least the next twelve hours and that she doesn’t get it dirty.”

Ian just stared at him, not saying a word.

But Jameson could feel his disappointment. Turning, he left. And he didn’t look back.

Even though he could feel Ian watching him all the way to the car.