Ben spread his hands. “But if Sabrina
feels something for you, now’s the time for me to find out—not six
months after we’re married. You’re such a pain in the ass, I can’t
think of a better way to convince her she wants to be my wife than
for her to spend a few weeks at your beck and call.”
Luke snapped his gaze to Sabrina. “And you agreed to
this?”
“Why not? It’s not as if Ben’s wrong. Anyway, I’ve
seen what a terrible patient you can be when you’re sick. If we
hired a home health aide for you, the person would probably hold a
pillow over your face inside the first hour.” She shook a Percocet
tablet out of the prescription bottle into Luke’s palm.
He couldn’t wait for the medication to start
working. His ankle throbbed like a son-of-a-bitch. “It’s a
completely insane idea. It’s like locking a starving wolf in a cage
with a defenseless lamb and tellin’ the wolf not to eat.”
Ben cast a get-real look at him. “When it
comes to the opposite sex, Luke, I’d hardly call you starving.
Anyway, if the two of you can’t resist each other for a few weeks,
then maybe she’s marrying the wrong guy.”
“No, she’s not—because I’m not marrying anyone .” Luke’s present situation had done nothing but
reinforce his conviction to remain single.
Sabrina removed a can of soda from the refrigerator
and popped the top. She took a sip before handing it to Luke.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we’ve heard your confirmed bachelor theme song
before.”
“Besides,”—Ben shrugged—“I can’t think of a better
way to disillusion her about you. Relying on other people and
letting them help you isn’t exactly your strong suit.”
Ben had that straight. The thought of being a burden
on the people he cared about gave Luke a knot in his stomach the
size of New Jersey. But what choice did he have? He did absolutely
everything right-handed.
After shattering his right arm and shoulder during
college and spending six weeks in a cast, the nurses at his
orthopedist’s office had voted him the Least Ambidextrous Patient
of the Year. They’d even printed up an official-looking award for
him.
Luke tossed the pill into his mouth and washed it
down with the ice-cold Coke. Ben just might be right. Maybe two
weeks of him running Sabrina ragged would permanently kill any
feelings she had for him. He fiddled with the denim fringe just
above his knee. Why the hell did it have to be his favorite pair of
jeans they’d cut off?
“So.” Ben crossed his arms, signaling the subject
was closed. “Do you want me to haul your bed downstairs and set it
up in the living room?”
“No. I can scoot up and down the steps on my
ass.”
“Okay. Then I’ll call the medical supply company and
tell them to send over two electric wheelchairs tomorrow
morning.”
“No, this one is fine.” Luke took another swig of
his soda. “I guarantee my insurance won’t cover more than one
chair, and an electric one is a lot more expensive.”
“Then I’ll take care of it.”
“Like hell. I’ll pay my own medical expenses this
time, thank you.”
“So what’re you planning to do in that chair with a
sprained wrist—turn just the left wheel and rotate in circles?”
“Very funny.” He raised his hands. “Fine. You can
order one electric chair, and that’s it.
Sabrina squeezed Ben’s arm. “Luke’s right. It’s
stupid to pay so much for two electric ones. During the little time
he’ll be out of bed upstairs, I can push him around.”
“Right.” Luke grinned. “We already know how good she
is at that.”
She scowled at him.
“Okay.” Ben nodded. “But, in addition to the
electric one for down here, I’m getting another manual chair that
folds sent over for the car so Sabrina won’t have to carry this one
up and down the stairs every time you want to go out.”
“You’d better tell them to send us a portable
commode, too,” Sabrina suggested.
“Forget about it.” Luke shook his head
feels something for you, now’s the time for me to find out—not six
months after we’re married. You’re such a pain in the ass, I can’t
think of a better way to convince her she wants to be my wife than
for her to spend a few weeks at your beck and call.”
Luke snapped his gaze to Sabrina. “And you agreed to
this?”
“Why not? It’s not as if Ben’s wrong. Anyway, I’ve
seen what a terrible patient you can be when you’re sick. If we
hired a home health aide for you, the person would probably hold a
pillow over your face inside the first hour.” She shook a Percocet
tablet out of the prescription bottle into Luke’s palm.
He couldn’t wait for the medication to start
working. His ankle throbbed like a son-of-a-bitch. “It’s a
completely insane idea. It’s like locking a starving wolf in a cage
with a defenseless lamb and tellin’ the wolf not to eat.”
Ben cast a get-real look at him. “When it
comes to the opposite sex, Luke, I’d hardly call you starving.
Anyway, if the two of you can’t resist each other for a few weeks,
then maybe she’s marrying the wrong guy.”
“No, she’s not—because I’m not marrying anyone .” Luke’s present situation had done nothing but
reinforce his conviction to remain single.
Sabrina removed a can of soda from the refrigerator
and popped the top. She took a sip before handing it to Luke.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we’ve heard your confirmed bachelor theme song
before.”
“Besides,”—Ben shrugged—“I can’t think of a better
way to disillusion her about you. Relying on other people and
letting them help you isn’t exactly your strong suit.”
Ben had that straight. The thought of being a burden
on the people he cared about gave Luke a knot in his stomach the
size of New Jersey. But what choice did he have? He did absolutely
everything right-handed.
After shattering his right arm and shoulder during
college and spending six weeks in a cast, the nurses at his
orthopedist’s office had voted him the Least Ambidextrous Patient
of the Year. They’d even printed up an official-looking award for
him.
Luke tossed the pill into his mouth and washed it
down with the ice-cold Coke. Ben just might be right. Maybe two
weeks of him running Sabrina ragged would permanently kill any
feelings she had for him. He fiddled with the denim fringe just
above his knee. Why the hell did it have to be his favorite pair of
jeans they’d cut off?
“So.” Ben crossed his arms, signaling the subject
was closed. “Do you want me to haul your bed downstairs and set it
up in the living room?”
“No. I can scoot up and down the steps on my
ass.”
“Okay. Then I’ll call the medical supply company and
tell them to send over two electric wheelchairs tomorrow
morning.”
“No, this one is fine.” Luke took another swig of
his soda. “I guarantee my insurance won’t cover more than one
chair, and an electric one is a lot more expensive.”
“Then I’ll take care of it.”
“Like hell. I’ll pay my own medical expenses this
time, thank you.”
“So what’re you planning to do in that chair with a
sprained wrist—turn just the left wheel and rotate in circles?”
“Very funny.” He raised his hands. “Fine. You can
order one electric chair, and that’s it.
Sabrina squeezed Ben’s arm. “Luke’s right. It’s
stupid to pay so much for two electric ones. During the little time
he’ll be out of bed upstairs, I can push him around.”
“Right.” Luke grinned. “We already know how good she
is at that.”
She scowled at him.
“Okay.” Ben nodded. “But, in addition to the
electric one for down here, I’m getting another manual chair that
folds sent over for the car so Sabrina won’t have to carry this one
up and down the stairs every time you want to go out.”
“You’d better tell them to send us a portable
commode, too,” Sabrina suggested.
“Forget about it.” Luke shook his head
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