Kitabı oku: «The Cop»
“Not many men can handle the demands of a doctor’s life—except maybe another doctor.”
“Or a cop,” Carrie said.
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation,” Kelly replied. “Trust me, there is absolutely no chance of a relationship between Cole and me. None. Zip. Nada.”
Carrie grinned. “But you have to admit he’s a hunk.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
“Li-ar,” Carrie singsonged.
Kelly only smiled, and they parted company.
Oh, she’d noticed that Cole Younger Outlaw was a hunk. Every female hormone in her body was on red alert. She glanced toward him and found him watching her.
He winked.
Good Lord, could he read her mind?
Dear Reader,
This is the last of three stories about the Outlaw brothers, The Sheriff, The Judge and now The Cop, all from a family traditionally named for famous outlaws and all in law enforcement and public service. When I was creating Cole Younger Outlaw’s story, I first considered setting it in Houston—logical, since the oldest son had been in HPD homicide for many years—but the colorful characters in the small town of Naconiche (NAK-uh-KNEE-chee) had grown on me. To prove that good things can come of terrible incidents, I brought Cole back to his hometown to recuperate from his serious injury…and to find a whole new life in the place of his roots.
Now, there’s no real town named Naconiche—and, no, it’s not patterned after Nacogdoches, the historical small town where I lived for many years—but there is a Naconiche Creek in East Texas, and I liked the sound of the Indian word. The Outlaws’ hometown is a composite of many places in the heart of the Piney Woods where my ancestors lived when Texas was still a republic.
Naconiche and the Twilight Inn seem to be magical places, and with one gorgeous redhead thrown into the mix, the cynical and battle-scarred cop is about to be turned every which way but loose. I had fun writing about the sassy Dr. Kelly Martin and the tough Cole Outlaw, and I can promise that you’re in for lots of love and laughter! Join me and see if I’m not right.
Visit me at www.eclectics.com/JanHudson.
Jan Hudson
The Cop
Jan Hudson
MILLS & BOON
Before you start reading, why not sign up?
Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!
Or simply visit
Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.
For Karen Solem, Agent Extraordinaire
And with special thanks to Sherry Wallace,
Hospice of Deep East Texas
and Greg Sowell,
Nacogdoches Police Department
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
Chapter One
“Pull off your pants and lie down,” she repeated.
Cole Younger Outlaw turned from the bedroom window, and his eyes swept her with a slow, clothes-stripping scrutiny that sucked the air from her lungs. One corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Tell you what, Red,” he said in a low rumble that sent an acre of goose bumps racing over her skin. “I’ll pull off my pants if you’ll pull off yours.”
For a nanosecond she actually considered taking him up on the offer. He was without a doubt the most…phenomenal man she’d ever encountered. Even in ragged sweats and with several days’ growth of dark beard, sex appeal oozed from his pores and wafted across the room like nitrous oxide. Hard. Dangerous. Survival instincts would have sent a lesser woman screaming from the room, which, she was sure, was what he intended.
She was made of sterner stuff.
“That’s not an option, Mr. Outlaw. And please don’t call me Red. My name is Kelly Martin. Dr. Kelly Martin.”
His dark brows lifted a tad, and he gave her another slow perusal. “You sure don’t look like any doctor I’ve seen lately.” He flashed a full-fledged grin, and her knees almost buckled. “The offer still holds.”
“Look, Mr. Outlaw—”
“Call me Cole, darlin’.”
She ignored the “darlin”’ part. “Look, Cole, I have an office full of patients waiting, and I don’t have time for games. Dr. Ware is in surgery all day, and I’m here as a favor to your mother. She and your dad are worried sick about you, and so are your brothers. You’ve holed up in this room and refused to go to physical therapy. You won’t cooperate with anybody who’s trying to help you. You haven’t—”
“Put a sock in it, Red.” He scowled and turned back to the window which was festooned with a bright holiday swag.
Kelly was torn between clobbering him with her medical bag and stalking from the room. Instead she tossed the bag and her jacket on the bed and walked closer to him. “Exactly what is your problem?”
“My problem?” He glared at her with storm-cloud gray eyes. “Besides losing a chunk of lung, getting my hip and leg shot all to hell and being a cripple the rest of my life, you mean?”
She waited only two beats before she shot him a cheeky grin. “Yeah, besides that, flatfoot.”
He ducked his head, but not before Kelly saw a hint of a smile. When he looked up a few seconds later, he was scowling again. “I’m not a flatfoot. I’m a cop. Was a cop.”
“You can be a cop again—if you’ll go to therapy.”
“Sorry, Red, it won’t wash. There’s no way in hell I can work homicide again, and I’m not cut out for being a desk jockey. You got a cigarette on you?”
Kelly patted all her pockets. “Nope. Fresh out.” She fished a small sucker from her purple lab coat. “This is the best I can do.” When he reached for it, she popped it back into her pocket. “The examination comes first. Take off your pants.”
“Don’t try to play games with me, Red,” he growled. “I eat little gals like you for lunch.”
Kelly burst into laughter. His scowl only deepened. “Try it,” she said, then deepened her voice to add in her best Dirty Harry imitation, “Make…my…day.”
She thought the corner of his mouth twitched upward again, but she couldn’t be sure because he suddenly hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his faded sweats and stripped them off. Next the shirt landed on the floor beside the pants, and he turned to her. “Examine away.”
Her woman’s breath caught for less than a heartbeat before the physician kicked in. “I see the incisions seem to be healing nicely. Let me get my gear.” She retrieved her bag from the bed and took out her stethoscope. Automatically she held the diaphragm in her fist and blew on the metal, warming it before she placed it on his chest. “Take a deep breath.”
After listening to his heart and lungs, she carefully checked the surgical sites and damage to his chest and back. The scar from the exit wound was more vicious than the one from the surgeon’s scalpel. She knew that things had been touch-and-go with him for several days after he was shot and that he had spent weeks in a Houston hospital before his folks had brought him back home with them to finish recuperating. Naconiche was a small town, and everybody had known about his gun battle with a murder suspect. Too, she shared an office suite with Noah Ware, the surgeon who was Cole’s local doctor.
When the time came to check his left hip and leg, Kelly pulled up a nearby straight chair and sat down to examine the places.
“Ugly looking mess, isn’t it?” Cole asked.
“I’ve seen much worse. I worked in Ben Taub ER in Houston for a year. I saw more gunshot wounds than most doctors see in a lifetime. Bet this hurt like a son of a gun,” she said as she gently probed the sites, which were now patched with pins. Kelly asked him to move and bend, then walk a few steps.
He had to use his walker and limped badly.
“Your injuries are healing properly, but it’s imperative that you go to physical therapy daily,” Kelly said. “I can’t find any reason to contraindicate PT, and it will do wonders for your recovery.”
“Sure you haven’t got a cigarette?”
She took a patch from her bag, peeled off the back and slapped it on his right hip.
“What’s that?”
“A nicotine patch. I’ll have the drugstore deliver some more. You’re not to smoke a cigarette under any circumstance, and don’t pester your folks to buy any for you.” She retrieved the sugar-free lollipop from her pocket. “Suck on this. It’ll help some.”
He scowled at the smiley face on the plastic-wrapped candy. “Like hell it will.”
She glanced at her watch. “Okay, hardcase, I have to get back to my office, and you need to keep your PT appointment at the hospital.”
“No.”
“No? For goodness’ sakes, why not?”
He glared at her for several seconds, but she didn’t so much as blink. Finally he turned away and mumbled something.
“Say again.”
“I said I can’t get down the damned stairs, and I’m not going to have my brothers carry me down like a baby.”
Pride. Big time. She nodded. “I understand.”
“I should have never given in to my folks and come here. I should have stayed in Houston. Mama’s hovering is driving me nuts.”
And his recalcitrance was driving his mother nuts. She nodded again. “I’ll work on a solution, Cole. You can get dressed now.”
He glanced down at his nakedness. “Bother you, Red?”
“Nope. But you might look a little better if you’d shave.” With that perfect exit line, she turned and walked from the room.
“Red,” he called after her.
She stopped at the door.
“Forget something?”
Kelly turned and saw Cole standing there, still naked, with her medical bag dangling from his fingers.
She stalked back, grabbed her bag and hurried out. His laughter followed her as she clattered down the stairs.
Miss Nonie, Cole’s mother, waited for her at the foot of the stairs that ended in the back of the Double Dip ice-cream parlor. Nonie and Wes Outlaw lived in the apartment upstairs from the business that Nonie had run since she retired from teaching and Wes retired as sheriff of the East Texas county. Two or three years before, the couple had divided their extensive ranch property among their five children, leaving their big house to their son Frank and his twins, and moved into town.
Miss Nonie looked worried. “How is he, Dr. Kelly?”
Kelly patted Nonie’s back. “He’s doing very well considering what he’s been through. He simply needs time and physical therapy.”
“But he refuses to go to physical therapy. His father and I have talked to him. His brothers have tried to talk to him. He won’t listen to any of us, and we’re all at our wit’s end.”
Kelly smiled. “He is a little hardheaded. Let me work on an idea that I have, and I’ll get back to you later today. How about an ice-cream cone for the road? Butter pecan would be good.”
Between the ice cream and leaving her coat in Cole’s room, Kelly nearly froze before she got to her car. An early December norther had blown through the day before, and the morning temperatures were in the forties. But she’d sooner be switched with a peach limb than go back for her jacket. She’d pick it up later.
COLE STOOD at the window and watched Kelly Martin drive away. Now there was a woman. And a doctor of all things. Tall, long-legged and gorgeous. Any man would give a month’s pay to have that curly tumble of red hair spread across his pillow. With those snapping green eyes and kiss-me lips, she revved his motors more than any female he’d run across in years—for all the good it did him now. Hell, he couldn’t even dress himself without breaking out in a sweat.
He snagged his clothes from the floor and hobbled the few steps to his bed. Sure enough, by the time he’d pulled on the pants and shirt he was breathing hard and dripping wet. He wasn’t any use to himself or anybody else like he was. If he hadn’t been so doped up on painkillers, he would never have agreed to come to Naconiche.
Of course, his apartment in Houston was on the third floor, but he could have made out with pizza delivery and a few groceries from one of those online places. Here, he was worried about his mother. She ran up and down those stairs a dozen times a day checking on him, and she was no spring chicken anymore. Cole thought again about taking his brother Frank up on his offer to stay with the twins and him, but he didn’t want to impose, especially now that Frank was engaged. J.J.’s place was out—stairs again—and he was engaged, too. In fact, J.J. and Mary Beth were getting married in a few days. They had plenty going on without having to worry about their gimpy brother.
Nope, that wasn’t an option.
Hell, he knew he needed to go to PT. The sooner he got able to tend to himself, the sooner he could be out of everybody’s hair. Cole wasn’t used to being dependent on anybody, and he didn’t like being helpless. Not a damned bit.
He was just going to have to try to get down those stairs by himself.
KELLY DROPPED BY the Twilight Tearoom at the end of the lunch hour and had a quick bite as she sometimes did when she had time. In the odd spare moments she’d had since she’d seen Cole Outlaw that morning, thoughts of him had preyed on her mind. In some ways he looked very much like his brothers, J.J. and Frank, both patients of hers. Tall, dark, handsome. But life had carved a different character into his features, his bearing—and she found him stunningly seductive. Odd, since she’d never had such feelings about a patient before—not that he was actually her patient.
Of course she’d noticed that his brothers were good-looking guys, but being around them had never assaulted her senses and jolted her libido. The family patriarch, old Judge John Outlaw, thought naming his sons for notorious characters was politically smart—they’d have a leg up on opponents or in business. The tradition had continued through his grandsons. Of all the current crop of Outlaws named for famous desperados, Cole Younger Outlaw came closest to living up to his name. He might have been a cop, but he was as menacing as any gunslinger who ever lived. And, she admitted, turned her on like crazy. Interesting. Very interesting. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to pursue these unusual feelings or not.
When Kelly finished her chicken quesadillas, the tables were almost empty, and she went back into the kitchen to talk with Mary Beth Parker. Mary Beth owned the tearoom and the adjacent Twilight Inn, a small motel she had restored. She and J. J. Outlaw, the current county sheriff, were getting married on Saturday.
“Got a second?” Kelly asked as she stuck her head in.
“Sure,” Mary Beth said, wiping her hands and coming to the door. “What’s up?”
“Do you have a vacancy at the inn?” she asked quietly.
Mary Beth grinned. “Need a place for a rendezvous?”
Kelly rolled her eyes at her friend and patient. “I wish. No, I’m trying to find a place for Cole to stay while he recuperates.”
“I thought he was staying with Miss Nonie and Wes.”
“He is, but he needs to be on the ground floor…and he needs a place where he feels some independence but where his family could drop in with casseroles occasionally. The inn would be ideal. And I thought that since he’s family…well, that the cost wouldn’t be too prohibitive.”
“That wouldn’t be a problem, but we’re full. Besides our regular guests, tomorrow I’m expecting out-of-town friends for the wedding.”
Kelly sighed. “So much for that.”
“Wait a minute. I may have another solution.”
When Mary Beth told her the idea, Kelly grinned. “Perfect. Can you talk to him this afternoon? And maybe it would be best to present the notion to him in a…delicate way.”
“The male ego thing, you mean?”
“Exactly.”
“Gotcha.”
COLE HADN’T MADE IT past the third step when he had to sit down on the stairs and catch his breath. Three steps was one better than he’d done that morning. Shaking and sweating from his effort, he muttered a string of oaths that would have shocked his mother if she’d heard them. He felt as useless as hip pockets on a hog.
After resting several minutes, he was about ready to try again when he saw J.J. and Mary Beth coming upstairs.
“Hey, big brother,” J.J. said. “Whatcha doing sitting out here?”
“Waiting for a bus,” Cole said.
“Need any help?”
“Nope.”
“Mary Beth wants to ask you something.”
“Ask away.”
“It’s a big favor,” Mary Beth said, “and if you don’t feel up to it, just say so. I have a problem. You know that I own the Twilight Inn and Tearoom.”
She looked as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs, and Cole tried not to grin at his future sister-in-law, a pretty blonde who J.J. had been crazy about since they were kids. “Yes. Heard that you inherited it and fixed it up.”
“Right. It was a mess. The problem now is that Katy and I—you know my daughter, Katy?”
He smiled. “The little blond imp who wanted to see my bullet holes.”
“Yes, sorry about that, Cole. Anyhow, Katy and I are moving from the manager’s apartment to the new house. We’re trying to get settled before the wedding, but the person who was supposed to move in and take over as night manager has backed out, and I’m in a predicament. I was wondering if—oh, no, forget it. It’s too much of an imposition.”
“What is?” Cole asked.
“She was hoping that you might be able to fill in for a few weeks,” J.J. said.
“Just till after the Christmas holidays,” Mary Beth said. “I’m sure I can find another college student then who’ll take over the job for room and board. But you’re probably not up to it yet, Cole. It was a crazy idea. I’m sorry I mentioned it.”
“Whoa, darlin’,” Cole said. “What does a night manager have to do?”
“Not a lot, actually,” Mary Beth said. “Answer the phone in the evening and check in an occasional traveler who rings the bell for a room at night. You don’t even have to stay up. Basically just be there for security and to handle emergencies. The only emergency we’ve had was when the toilet overflowed in Unit Three. I had to call the plumber at midnight. The domino bunch takes care of the day shift.”
“The domino bunch?”
“Four old geezers who work around the motel for lunch and a place to play dominoes,” J.J. said. “I imagine you know all of them.”
Cole was naturally suspicious, but he didn’t care if it was a put-up job or not. Mary Beth’s offer sounded like an answer to his prayers. “I’ll be your temporary night manager.”
“Are you sure you feel like it?” Mary Beth asked.
“I’m sure.”
Mary Beth knelt on the stairs and threw her arms around Cole. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said, planting kisses on his face.
“Hey, there,” J.J. grumbled, “that’s enough of that.”
Cole laughed for the second time that day. “When do I start?”
Chapter Two
Shortly after lunch Kelly tapped on Cole’s bedroom door. The biggest and burliest of the hospital’s physical therapists stood behind her with a wheelchair.
When the door opened, Cole scowled at her. “What are you doing here?”
He still hadn’t shaved, and he had on well-worn gray sweats that looked even worse than the ones he’d worn the day before. On his feet were a pair of fleece-lined moccasins that looked like something his mother might have bought him—or that Wes had received for Christmas sometime.
“We’ve come to move you to your new digs,” Kelly said, smiling brightly. “Are you packed?”
He glanced to a black duffel bag on the bed. “Not much to pack, but I’ve been ready since daylight. My brothers are supposed to come by when Frank gets out of court.”
He frowned at the therapist. “Who are you?”
“Dan Robert Thurston, sir.” The therapist offered his hand, and Cole shook it. “Thought I’d give you a ride down.” He motioned to the wheelchair. “Hop in and buckle up.”
“Down the stairs? In that?”
“Dan Robert’s a pro. It’s a piece of cake for him,” Kelly said. “Not only is he a physical therapist, he’s a weight lifter.”
Cole didn’t look convinced, but he shrugged and sat in the lightweight chair. Dan Robert strapped him in while Kelly collected the duffel and the walker from Cole’s room. In a couple of minutes, they were downstairs.
“You make this seem easy,” Cole said.
“It is easy,” Dan Robert said, “with a little experience. It’s more a matter of leverage than muscle. Shoot, they even got machines now that you can attach to wheelchairs and climb stairs by yourself.”
“Why haven’t I heard about them?” Cole asked.
Kelly grinned. “It’s the sort of information you get if you’re in physical therapy.” She ignored his rude snort.
Miss Nonie bustled over as they passed through the shop. “Are you sure you’ll be all right alone, son?”
“I’ll be fine, Mom.”
“Your dad and I will be over tonight with your supper. Is there anything else you need?”
“Not a thing,” Cole said. “And don’t worry about my supper. I’ll order a pizza or something.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry about it, Miss Nonie,” Kelly said. “Mary Beth plans to leave a plate from lunch in the fridge. He won’t starve.” She waved as they went outside and loaded into her car, Cole in the passenger seat and Dan Robert in the back.
When she pulled away and turned left, Cole said, “Aren’t we going the wrong way to the Twilight Inn?”
“Nope. I have to drop Dan Robert by the hospital, and we thought while we were there that you could go in with him and have your physical therapy session.”
Cole cocked an eyebrow at her. “Who is we?”
“Think of it as the imperial ‘we,”’ she said with a flutter of her hand. After a few moments of silence, she said, “What? No argument?”
He shrugged. “Would it do any good?”
“Not a bit.”
Dan Robert made a slight choking sound from the back seat.
When they stopped at the hospital entrance, Kelly said to Cole, “I’ll pick you up here in an hour.”
“Don’t you have patients to see?”
“It’s my afternoon off. I’ll…be…back.”
Cole started to say something, then clamped his mouth shut. She could see his molars getting a workout.
COLE HAD BEEN RIGHT, Kelly thought. He hadn’t had much to pack. In the duffel she found the sweats from the day before, four pairs of pajamas, a robe, some ratty underwear and three pairs of white and two pairs of gray socks. Besides his shaving kit, two paperback novels—and her forgotten jacket of all things—that was it. Why did he have her jacket in his bag?
She shrugged and checked the sizes of his few belongings. Obviously the man needed some clothes. At least some more sweats to knock around in. Easy on and easy off, they would be simple to manage.
By the time she drove to the hospital door an hour later, she’d been able to do a fair amount of shopping. Dan Robert was just wheeling Cole out the door as she pulled up. Cole looked exhausted.
“Tired?” she asked when he was settled in the front seat.
He merely nodded.
By the time they reached the Twilight Inn, he was sound asleep. He looked so peaceful that she hated to wake him, so she sat in front of the manager’s apartment and let him sleep.
B.D., one of the four old fellows who worked at the motel and played dominoes in the office, came outside to check. Kelly held her fingers to her lips and shook her head, and he ducked back inside.
While Cole slept, she studied him. In the way that sleep softens features, his had modified to more a boyish cast, but he still looked far from innocent. He was a handsome man, but he reminded her more of a battle-scarred gladiator than a romantic Lancelot. The creases bisecting his forehead, though relaxed, were permanently etched there, and his jaw was clenched—probably a permanent state, as well.
An old scar carved a crescent on his left cheekbone, and another furrowed through his beard at his chin. His nose looked as if it had been rearranged a couple of times, and a lone pockmark faintly pitted his cheek an inch below the thick, dark sweep of lashes. The scar was probably the result of childhood chicken pox or adolescent acne, and it made him somehow seem more…vulnerable. Well, maybe not vulnerable.
The whole package that was Cole Outlaw made her toes curl and her fingers itch to run themselves through the waves of his thick hair and over the planes of his face and—
She squirmed in the seat and turned her attention to a mockingbird sitting on a power line. What was with her? Good Lord, she felt as giddy as a high school girl.
After about twenty minutes, Kelly gently shook Cole awake.
He sat up with a start, instantly alert and scowling.
“We’re home,” she announced in her perkiest voice.
“Home?”
“The Twilight Inn.”
“The old place looks a lot different from the last time I saw it.”
“Which was?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe five, ten years ago. It was a dump.”
“It was boarded up and falling down when Mary Beth started renovations last spring. A lot of folks pitched in and helped. Now it’s a charming little motel,” she said, motioning to the row of neatly painted units with yellow chrysanthemums still blooming in the window boxes. “And the restaurant has been refurbished as well. Mary Beth serves the best lunch in town.”
“No breakfast or dinner?”
“Nope,” she said, “but I bought some breakfast items at the grocery store, and one of the guys will bring you an extra meal at lunch to stash in the fridge for dinner.”
She hopped out and got the wheelchair from the trunk. By the time she got to the passenger door, Cole was struggling to get out.
When he saw her with the chair, he waved her away. “If you’ll hand me my walker, I can make it in.”
“Humor me this time and let me push.”
He started to argue, then clamped his mouth shut and sat down in the wheelchair. They hadn’t gone three steps when the office door opened and the four old guys spilled out.
“Land sakes,” one of them said, sticking out his hand to Cole. “I haven’t seen you in a coon’s age. Bet you don’t remember me.”
“I sure do, Howard, but it looks like you’ve lost a little more on top.”
Howard cackled and ran his hand over a head covered only by a few liver spots and a pink patch or two. “That’s for sure. Then you probably remember B.D. and Curtis and Will here.”
After Cole shook hands with all the men, Will said, “Need some help getting in?”
“I have some things in the back seat and in the trunk,” Kelly said.
“You supervise the unloading,” B.D. told Kelly, “and I’ll roll Cole inside.” B.D. was wisp thin and looked as if a powder puff could knock him over. When Cole appeared concerned about the prospect of an eightysomething guy pushing him, the old fellow must have caught the wary expression. He patted Cole’s shoulder and said, “Don’t you worry none, son. I’ve handled one of these contraptions more times than you can shake a stick at.”
He proceeded to expertly wheel Cole into the office unit while the other domino players brought the rest of the items from Kelly’s car.
The apartment behind the office was more like a small suite: two rooms, one with a kitchenette in the corner, and a bathroom. The main room, which had been Mary Beth’s, held only a few pieces of furniture including a sofa and a large leather recliner. Cole settled in the recliner, and Kelly stood his walker next to it.
“There you go,” Howard said, setting the last of the grocery bags on a small table in the kitchen corner. “We’ll get on about our game. You need anything, Cole, just give a holler.”
“I’ll do it, Howard. Thank you.”
“You might have to holler twice,” Will said with a wink. “Couple of us are a mite hard of hearing.”
“He don’t have to holler,” Curtis said. “All he has to do is push that little button right there.” Curtis pointed out the intercom on the phone base beside Cole.
After the old fellows said their goodbyes and left, Kelly took off her sweater and draped it over the back of a chair in the kitchen nook. She stowed the perishables in the small fridge and the other groceries in a cabinet under the microwave, listing the items to Cole as she worked.
“You should have plenty for a simple breakfast and for snacks.” She picked up another large shopping bag. “And I bought you some new sweats and things—without holes.” She grinned.
He glanced down at his shirt where the “HPD PIGS” across the chest was faded almost to oblivion. “You don’t like my football outfit?”
“It’s charming, but I think it’s nearing retirement.” She stashed the new clothes in the chest by the bathroom door. “Your pajamas are in the top drawer here.”
“I don’t wear pajamas.”
Her heart tripped. She didn’t dare look at him. “You have several pair.”
“My mom bought them.”
“Oh.” She closed the drawer and turned. Playing perky again, she said, “Let’s see. The bedroom is through there. The bathroom is here. I put your shaving kit on the counter. The fridge and the microwave and the coffeepot are over there. The remote for the TV is on the table beside you with the phone. I guess that about covers it.” Why was she babbling? She took a deep breath. “Want something to drink?”
“Yeah. A beer would be nice.”
“Sorry. No beer with the medication you’re on. You may have Coke, cream soda, milk, orange juice, apple juice, tomato juice or water. Or coffee. And Mary Beth left a big plate of brownies.”