Chapter 229
Colin looked at me with his best impression of an innocent puppy, “Phoebe, my hand hurts.”
He had cunningly convinced the nurse to put an IV in his less–injured hand and then played the pain card with me.
Was I really supposed to wait on him hand and foot? To the point of unzipping his jeans? Suddenly, Finn’s words echoed in my mind. “Keep acting; nobody does it better than you.” Colin’s eyes were rimmed with red. “Phoebe, you’re my wife.”
“Enough!” I steeled my heart. After all, he was injured saving me, and the doctor’s orders were bed rest, so wait on him I must.
I grabbed the supplies the nurse sent us. Blushing furiously, I pulled the privacy curtain around us and reached out. “You can manage on your-
“My hand hurts.”
I gritted my teeth and threatened. “Caleb, don’t push it.”
He looked at me, the picture of innocence. I felt like a pufferfish, all puffed up with indignation as I helped him…
Then I heard he say, “Phoebe, I don’t need to pee anymore.”
Could I strangle him?
“Phoebe, you’re too rough; you’ve scared it.”
“Caleb!”
After a solid ten minutes of ear–twisting education, Colin finally conceded with the air of a scolded puppy.
I snorted and sat beside him, spoon–feeding him soup. “Drink up; it’ll help you heal faster.” *Phoebe.” Colin looked like he was cooking up some mischief when an uninvited guest appeared.
Yes. Dexter, looming like a ghost she couldn’t shake.
Colin’s face turned stormy in an instant. How could I forget that Dexter’s room was just next door, also recovering from an injury?
“Phoebe, my wound is killing me. Could you give me a kiss?”
I didn’t turn around or even see Dexter; I just wanted to ignore Colin’s whining.
“Phoebe, it really hurts.” Colin choked up, tugging at his bandage to show me, “Phoebe, I got seven stitches.”
08:07
I just wanted him to shut up, so I steeled myself and leaned in toward him.
Turned out, his hand wasn’t hurting anymore as he pulled me into a kiss. I knew he was up to no good.
By the door, Dexter stiffened, his eyes darkening as they were fixed on Colin.
Colin’s gaze and the tension in the room dropped to freezing levels. He was clearly provoking.
Feeling someone’s presence, I straightened up quickly to see a heartbroken Dexter.
I frowned at him. “Mr. Fitzgerald, you’re up and about already? Quite the speedy recovery
there.”
If he could be out of bed with such serious injuries, why was Colin still bedridden over a few cuts?
Dexter seemed a bit flustered. “Can we talk?”
“No.” I refused flat out.
But Dexter didn’t give up: he knew me too well and went for what he thought would work best- a threat. “I’m sorry, Foebe: your grandma’s taken ill. She’s been rushed to emergency care. I couldn’t reach you, heard you were here.”
I froze.
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