26. Ridley

26

RIDLEY

I could feel the fury coming off Colt in waves almost as if it were a living, breathing thing. After everything I’d been through tonight, it should’ve scared me. It didn’t. It was somehow comforting. Because he cared.

Colt’s chest heaved with his ragged breaths. “Who?” he demanded.

“Oh no you don’t,” Dr. Sapra said, stepping between my bed and the furious sheriff. “Any and all questions wait for tomorrow.”

“I need to?—”

Dr. Sapra cut him off instantly. “Whatever you need isn’t as important as Ridley’s well-being. Her healing .”

That had a little of Colt’s defiance slipping away. He scrubbed a hand over his face, suddenly looking defeated. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“I didn’t see him anyway,” I mumbled. My words were slightly slurred, the pain medicine taking hold.

Dr. Sapra crossed to my bed. “I’m going to take out your IV now. We’ll get you in a wheelchair so you can get home to sleep.”

“I don’t have a home,” I murmured.

Dr. Sapra’s pitying expression swam in my vision.

Then a hand slid into mine. It was large, the skin rough. A hand that belonged to a man who had lived life and not shied away from it. “You’ve got one for now, Chaos.”

“Okay, Law Man,” I agreed, my voice taking on a dreamy quality.

And I almost believed him.

A hand ghosted over my cheek, sweeping the hair back from my face. “We’re here.”

I blinked a few times, coming to in the dark of Colt’s SUV. I struggled to remember the events that had landed me here, and it all came back in flashes. The attack. The hospital. Baker. Colt. The loopy wheelchair ride to the SUV as Tater squawked.

“Hi,” I croaked.

“Hi, Chaos,” Colt said, a small smile tugging at his lips. But it quickly fell away. “How are you feeling?”

He was close. So close that scent of bergamot and cloves swirled around me, teasing and tempting. I found myself wanting to lean in, to close that distance between us and finally know what it felt like to have his lips pressed to mine. To know what he tasted like.

I swallowed hard, my throat sticking on the action. It was the drugs. I was high out of my mind, and that’s why I was thinking about kissing the grumpy bastard. That was the only plausible answer. It had nothing to do with those broad shoulders and fathomless eyes.

Colt’s brows pulled together in concern. “Chaos?”

“I’m good,” I said, the statement more rasp than actual words.

“You sure?” he pressed.

“Promise,” I whispered. “Just trying to get a little more with it. They gave me the good stuff.”

Colt chuckled and lifted the small pharmacy bag. “There’s more where that came from. But not until tomorrow.”

“Pretty sure if I had more tonight, I’d be comatose.”

“Can’t have that,” he said. “I’m going to come around and help you out.”

“I can?—”

Colt cut me off with a pointed look.

“I can wait for you to help me out,” I amended.

“That’s better.”

Colt slid out of the SUV, tucking my meds into his pocket. I waited in silence, my nerves ratcheting up with each moment that passed. Then the back door opened, and Tater let out an accusing meow.

“Don’t worry, Tripod. I got you too,” Colt said.

“I wouldn’t?—”

“Ow!” Colt yelped. “She bit me through the damn cage.”

“I told you we should’ve started you on rabies shots.”

The back door slammed and a second later, my door opened. I was greeted with that familiar scowl that somehow made Colt hotter. Something was seriously wrong with me.

“This cat needs one of those behavioral specialists or something.”

“Good luck with that,” I said, grinning.

Tater hissed but it sounded more like a viper spitting.

Colt’s scowl only deepened. “Maybe she needs to be on medication. A nice sedative.”

Tater lunged for the bars and nipped Colt’s pinky.

“Goddamn it!” he cursed.

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of me, but the moment it left my lips I regretted it. The pain along my ribs flared to life. My laugh cut off, and I sucked in a breath.

“Chaos,” Colt said softly. “He get your ribs?”

I nodded. “Got off a punch or two. Nothing’s broken.”

He glared at my side as if he could see the injury. “Probably bruised though.”

“Maybe,” I hedged. “But I’m sure it’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Colt said, but it didn’t sound as if he believed me. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

He leaned across me, unfastening my seat belt. His arm brushed against my chest as he straightened, and my nipples instantly pebbled. Those damn traitorous nipples.

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to steel my body’s reaction to Colt’s closeness. But apparently no amount of pain could stop my attraction to this man. And I was the genius who had said I was okay with staying with him.

“Here,” Colt said. “Take my hand and slide out easy. Or I can lift you.”

I didn’t want his damn hand. My nipples would probably react to that too. But I really didn’t want to know what would happen if I let him carry me. I’d probably end up dry-humping him.

“Okay,” I rasped.

I slid my hand into his, shivering at the calluses, the feel of that rough skin. He closed his fingers around mine, bracing me.

As carefully as possible, I slid out of the SUV. Everything hurt—my ribs, my head, my throat. And there was an ache in every muscle, probably from hitting the ground when I went lights out.

When I was standing and steady, Colt’s gaze swept over me. “You okay?”

I nodded and shut the door. “Good.”

Then I looked up to see where we were going and gasped. I hadn’t noticed the cabin when we’d pulled up. I’d been too lost in wooziness and pain and Colt. But now I couldn’t look away.

Cabin wasn’t exactly the right term. It was too nice for that. It was large but not massive. Beautiful but not ostentatious. The craftsmanship was expert. I could tell that even from where I was standing. The attention to detail was next-level.

The house was a mixture of wood, stone, and glass. The wood had a reddish hue, and I wondered if it was built from the redwoods surrounding us. That detail made the cabin feel like it sank into the forest, like it was somehow still a part of it. The stone of the walkway matched the rock the chimney was built out of, and I knew there had to be one hell of a fireplace inside. And the glass. So much glass I knew you could take in every inch of every possible view.

And thanks to the full moon, I could see that the whole structure almost hovered over the lake it was set on. If I could’ve built the house of my dreams, it would’ve been this one.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

I felt Colt’s gaze move to me, but I couldn’t look away from his home.

He was silent for a moment before he spoke. “I’m glad you like it. Let’s get you inside.”

He kept hold of my hand as we approached the house, navigating the stone path with care. When we reached the front stoop, he set Tater’s cage down so he could unlock the door, but he still didn’t let go of my hand.

Once the door was open, he first set Tater inside and then led me in. “Here we go.”

I moved into the entryway, forcing myself to let go of the hand that was giving me so much comfort in the moment. Too much. Instead, I focused on his house. I’d been right about the windows. The whole back of the house was glass. And it felt like we were on top of the water.

“Amazing,” I breathed.

Movement caught my eye. A large dog struggled to his feet from a pillowy bed in the corner of the living room and ambled over to greet me.

“Well, hey there, handsome.” My hand went to his head, giving him a scratch. The dog pressed into the attention.

“This is Bowser, and he’ll love you for life for doing that,” Colt said.

“He’s perfect.”

Tater let out an angry sound that was a cross between a snarl, a hiss, and spitting. She swiped at the cage as if she’d do battle with Bowser if given half a chance. Bowser simply sent her a look of confusion as he sniffed the air.

“She’s not the biggest fan of dogs,” I warned.

Colt lifted a brow. “What gave that away?”

I grinned.

“I’ve got you in a guest room with its own bath, so we can sequester the attack cat in there. I had Trey pick up a litter box and the same food that was in your van.”

The backs of my eyes burned. “You got me a litter box?” Why was that the thing that had me almost breaking? Something about the thoughtfulness of it, the foresight. Colt doing whatever he could to make this as easy on Tater and me as possible.

“It’s no big thing.”

“It is,” I argued.

He simply shrugged.

Then the second part of his statement about Tater’s supplies hit. “Wait. What happened to my van?”

Colt winced and I knew whatever he was about to say wouldn’t be good. “I’m sorry, Ridley. But whoever attacked you did a number on it. The inside is completely wrecked.”