4. Wyatt

Chapter Four

Wyatt

"You're good to go," the doctor said.

I glanced over at the doctor. I was a little out of it. They'd given me a sedative to help me relax while she stitched me up. She was very polite and as matter-of-fact as one could get. Although she looked barely out of med school, I appreciated her calm, practical bedside manner.

"How's your pain?" she asked.

"Well, I can't feel a thing because you put that numbing spray on it," I pointed out.

She smiled a little. She hadn't even blinked at the fish hook in my shoulder and had shared that when she was younger and out fishing at her family's fishing camp, she had once gotten a hook deep in her forearm and showed me the scar.

"I promise your scar won't be as obvious," she'd offered wryly.

Even though I'd been woozy, we'd spent most of the time chatting about our favorite fishing areas while she stitched me up. Like me, she had grown up in Alaska. While I had grown up here in Fireweed Harbor, she had grown up on the outskirts of Juneau. As a member of the Tlingit tribe, she had spent much of her childhood fishing in tribal areas. She had shared that she was thrilled to get a job at the hospital in Fireweed Harbor, where her grandparents were originally from.

"The numbing spray will wear off, probably in an hour or so. I'm sending you home with a prescription for some pain medication. You're going to need it. Trust me, that hook was deep in your shoulder. You can expect some soreness for a week or so."

"I don't want to take pain medication. I hate that shit. It makes me feel fuzzy, and I already feel fuzzy," I pointed out.

She nodded. "Understood, but I recommend taking some to help with the pain. Honestly, just a day or two should be good enough." Her eyes bounced to the clock on the wall. "I have to move along, but a nurse will come in to clear you for discharge."

"Will it be Rosie?" My question slipped out.

The doctor eyed me for a beat before she replied, "Probably not. She's dealing with another emergency." Clearly, my poker face wasn't at its best. Her eyes twinkled. "It's obvious you like Rosie."

Like didn't even come close to capturing how I felt about Rosie.

"Rosie is awesome. I've known her forever."

The doctor's pager beeped. "I really do have to go. Watch out for infection. You have a prescription for antibiotics and pain meds. Between the two, the antibiotics are probably more important. We did our best to flush the wound, but fish hooks can have nasty stuff on them."

I blamed what I said next on the sedatives that hadn't completely worn off. "Okay. I love Rosie. We're married. She doesn't want anybody to know."

The doctor gave me a puzzled look and nodded along. "You take care and don't leave until you're cleared for discharge."

A few minutes later, another nurse was in the room. She reviewed my discharge instructions and informed me I couldn't drive myself home.

"Why not?" I demanded.

"Is there anyone you can call for a ride?" she asked, not even deigning to answer my ridiculous question.

"Rosie. She's here. When does she get off?"

I wasn't clear on the details, but a short while later, Rosie walked me out of the hospital. "Why did you tell the doctor we were married?" she asked as she guided me out into the parking lot.

"Because we are!"

"Oh my God," she muttered.

I was pretty sure Rosie wanted to be pissed off at me. But once she got me situated in the passenger seat of her car and reached around me to buckle my seat belt, she met my gaze and shook her head slowly with a bemused smile. "You are loopy."

The drive from the hospital to the small house I was sharing with my twin brother was short. I reached over the console to try to hold her hand, but my aim fell short as she turned off the car. "Think about it," I repeated.

Rosie looked over at me. "You're out of it, Wyatt. I'm going to walk you inside. If you tell Griffin we're married, I'll tell him that you're crazy, just like I told the doctor."

A few minutes later, she escorted me into the house. My brother stood at the kitchen counter. "Where the hell have you been?" he asked.

"I got a fish hook in my shoulder. Didn't Blake call you?"

Griffin looked from Rosie to me as she guided me over to the couch. "He's still a little out of it from the sedative they gave him," she explained when I plunked down on the couch. "The effects should wear off soon."

Griffin nodded as he approached us. "Blake texted, but I don't think I got all the details. He mentioned a fish hook, but I didn't think it was a big deal."

"I drove myself to the hospital." I patted my newly stitched-up shoulder before wincing. "Ouch!"

Rosie rolled her eyes before she fished two prescription bottles out of her purse. "Where did those come from?" I asked.

"Hospital." Griffin stopped beside the couch, and she handed them to him. "His pain meds and his antibiotics," she explained. "If anything comes up, call me or the hospital. He has a follow-up appointment to get his stitches removed in ten days."

Moments later, Rosie was gone, and Griffin was looking down at me.

"How's your wife?" he asked with a grin as soon as the door closed behind her.

I smiled up at him. "I love her."

My thoughts were sluggish but painfully honest.

Griffin sat down across from me in the chair, his gaze bemused. "I know you do, but I don't think Rosie knows that. What are you going to do about it?"