Page 11 of Bones

“So good that you should take me home,” I grumble, but he just shakes his head at me.

“Come on, Doc. Spend some time with me. It’s not that bad, I promise. Don’t you want a break from all the hustle and bustle?”

“We live in a small town, Nate. There’s not that much hustle and bustle.”

He closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. “Can you hear that? Birds. No cars. No people. No expectations.”

I take in his handsome face, with those full lips, a strong jaw shadowed with stubble, a straight nose, and high cheekbones. He’d probably hate to know how beautifully masculine I think he is.

“You know you’re crazy, right?” I interrupt his peace.

He opens one eye before closing it again. “Is that your final diagnosis?” He opens both eyes and looks at me. “You’re safe here, Doc. Like I said, I promise I won’t let anything hurt you.”

“Even yourself?”

“Especially myself.”

BONES

We finish eating, and then I clean up while she snoops around the cabin. She opens the door to the bedroom she was in when she woke up, and I grin to myself when she realizes there’s only one bedroom.

“Why is there only one bed in this place?” she calls out, sounding exasperated. “I hope the couch is comfortable because that’s where your ass is sleeping!”

“It’s a very big bed,” I call back, washing the last plate and putting it on the drying rack.

“Not big enough,” I hear her reply, and I shake my head in amusement. I don’t know what it is about her, but being in her company makes me feel lighter. I meant what I said, I’d never hurt her. Yes, I kidnapped her, but I was desperate. And I thought she might be terrified, cry even, but instead, she’s been giving me attitude and bossing me around.

She’s perfect.

“It’s okay. I’ll fit my whole six-foot-four frame on that small leather couch.” I give in. I mean, I did kidnap her ass.

“How considerate of you,” she replies in a dry tone as she steps out of the bedroom. “I’m going to have a shower. Do you have any clothes for me to wear?”

“Yeah. In the black bag at the front door.”

“And can I have my phone?” she asks, but I shake my head.

“I’ll give it to you when we’re on our way home,” I reply, and she crosses her arms over her chest.

“I’m not going to call the cops,” she snaps, narrowing her beautiful hazel eyes. “I’ve agreed to stay here until Monday when I have to get back to work.”

She’s taken this whole thing a little too well. Maybe she’s the crazy one? But I am not stupid enough to give her phone back.

“I’ll give you your phone on Monday,” I promise. I get the bag of clothes and hand it to her. “Take whatever you want. It will be big for you, but you’ll be comfortable.”

And I get to see you wearing my clothes.

“You’re such an asshole,” she mutters, grabbing the bag and storming off into the bathroom. My gaze drops to her heart-shaped ass, and I smile.

I might be an asshole, but I’m about to be her asshole.

I hope she’s ready for me.

By the time she comes out, wearing one of my black T-shirts and gray sweatpants folded up at the waist, she sits down on the opposite end of the couch and stares at the television. I hand her the beer I got us out of the refrigerator, and she takes a sip. “What are we watching?”

I hand her the remote, and she puts on some show about hot men playing ice hockey. “Do you play ice hockey?” she asks me, and I don’t miss the hope in her tone.

“No,” I reply, scowling. I’m tempted to tell her I’m a biker right now because that’s way hotter than a fucking hockey player.