Page 82 of The Homemaker

“I’m going to pass out again. I need the seat to be leaned back.”

“I’ve got you.”

She closes her eyes and groans like a wounded animal as I push the seat recline button. Then I fasten her in, and we head to urgent care.

I call Blair on the way. “Hey, baby,” Blair says, panting. “I’m not even to the park yet. What do you need?”

“Alice cut her finger. I’m taking her to urgent care.”

“I’m … I’m sorry,” Alice mumbles.

“What did she say?” Blair asks.

“She’s not doing well with the blood, but she’s trying to apologize to you even though there is no need to apologize.”

“Ouch. Well, I hope she’ll be okay.”

“Nothing a couple of stitches won’t take care of. I’ll see you when we get back.”

“K,” she says before I disconnect the call.

“Ugh, I ruined your night. I’m so sorry.”

“You have not ruined anything. And it’s my fault for startling you.”

“Not true. I ruined tomorrow’s breakfast.”

“Hunter loves his steak rare. I’m sure he’ll enjoy his quiche a little bloody as well.”

“Stop,” she tries to laugh, but it sounds more like a moan.

When we reach urgent care, I help her inside. It doesn’t take long to update her medical records, but the waitingroom is crowded. Alice slides down in the chair and tries to lean her head back. Her face is still ghostly.

“Lie on my lap or lean against me before you pass out again,” I say.

“I’m fine,” she says in a weak voice.

“You don’t sound fine.” I wrap my arm around her, forcing her to lean against me.

She’s called back before other people, perhaps because there’s blood involved, or maybe they don’t want her passing out in front of everyone else.

“I hope I don’t lose my finger,” Alice says, curled up in a ball on the exam table while we wait for the doctor.

I bite back my grin. “I hope not either.”

“Did I ruin your plans for the night? Were you and Blair going out to dinner too?”

“Nope. We’re staying in. And I don’t think this will take all night unless you get transferred to the hospital for surgery.”

Her head whips in my direction. “Do you think that will happen?”

“No,” I say with a chuckle.

She frowns.

“Do you want me to call Callen?”

“So you do think I’m going to lose my finger?” Her eyes narrow.