I scowled.
“Let me see,” he said softly, coming closer to nudge his hips between my knees and taking my head in his hands. He titled it down and parted the still damp hair away from the sore area.
“What the hell did you hit your head on?” he murmured, brushing his fingers ever so lightly over the raised bump.
“The ground?” I guessed.
“I’m sorry, babe,” he murmured, tilting my head back up and pressing a kiss to the corner of my lips.
If he kept touching me, I was going to find some other way to hurt myself just so he would keep doing it.
There was a rap on the door and Cam pulled away as a doctor in a white coat came in holding a piece of paper. “You hit your head?” he asked, looking up at me.
“I was surfing and I fell. I’m not sure what I hit my head on. The water was too dark for me to see.”
“Did you lose consciousness?”
I thought about how I thought I’d been lying on the bottom of the ocean when really I had been against Cam’s chest. “No, but I was disoriented at first.”
“Headache?”
“Yes.”
“Nausea?”
“Not really.”
The questions continued as he checked my eyes, the bump on my head, and finally he stepped back.
“I would say you likely have a mild concussion.”
“What does that mean?” Cam asked.
“Just means you’re going to have a headache for a day or two. Since it’s mild, some over-the-counter pain relievers will probably be enough for the pain. No driving for a day or two. If you feel any new symptoms, come back here immediately. If the swelling on your head isn’t gone in a few days, come back in. Do not go to sleep for at least two hours. When you do go to sleep, have someone wake you every couple hours just to be sure you’re all right.”
“All that for a bump on the head?” I asked, feeling slightly put out.
He smiled. “I would say it could have been far worse. At least you weren’t alone and he was able to pull you out of the water.”
The doctor handed me a couple papers and told us we were free to go.
I shoved the papers in my bag and braced myself to jump off the tall table. But Cam appeared, gripping my waist and gently setting me on my feet. Without saying a word, he wrapped his fingers around mine and walked us through the office.
When I tried to steer myself toward the reception counter, he pulled me the other way. “I have to check out, Cam. I need to pay the bill.”
“I already paid.”
I felt my eyes grow wide. “What! Why would you do that?”
“Because that bump on your head is my fault.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You were on my surfboard.”
“Cam, I’m a grown woman. I’m not your responsibility.”
“I’m taking care of you today.”
“You are?”
“Yes, so don’t even try to get rid of me.”
An entire day with Cam?
Suddenly, almost drowning and having a concussion seemed like a massive stroke of luck.
9
It was well after ten when Cam parked the Mustang in the lot of my apartment building. This building wasn’t nearly as tall as his. It looked more Spanish style, with a terracotta tiled roof, a pale-yellow stucco exterior, and was longer than it was tall. It was only two stories high with steps running between each of the units. My unit was on the second floor in the center of the building.
“Roxie’s here,” I said, glancing up to see the door to the apartment open with boxes piled just outside the door. “Looks like she’s already moving in.”
“Hey!” I called, stepping around the boxes and going inside.
Roxie poked her head out of her new bedroom. “Violet! I thought you had to work.”
“She hit her head,” Cam explained. (And just like a typical guy, he only said enough to make it sound far worse than it was).
“Oh my God! What happened?” She rushed to my side, looking me over. I gave her a more thorough explanation and then sat on the sofa.
“A couple Motrin and I’ll be fine.”
Roxie hit Cam in the stomach with her fist. “Jerk!”
“Want me to help carry in some boxes?”
“I love you!” she exclaimed, flinging her arms around him.
I laughed.
“I do all the heavy lifting and he gets a hug?” someone grumbled from behind a stack of boxes in the doorway.
When he carried them around the couch, I saw that it was Adam as he disappeared into her room. I gave her an oh my gosh! look and she actually blushed.
Before I could get the scoop, Adam came back into the living room. “Good, someone with actual muscles,” he said, looking at Cam. “Can you give me a hand with her mattress?”
When they were gone, I motioned for Roxie to sit next to me. “So… Adam’s helping you move?”
She nodded. “When I asked him if I could leave last night to look at your place, he offered to use his truck to move me in today.”
“Wow. Talk about a boss who cares about his employees.”
“I told you we’re friends,” she said. Then she added, “He’s been after me for a while to get rid of Craig.”
“He has?” I leaned closer, sensing a story.
“He caught me crying in the ladies’ room one day during work and forced the reason out of me. That was the first time I caught him cheating.”
“Sounds like he’s very protective.”
“I think he’s just glad he won’t find me crying in the bathroom anymore.” She grinned ruefully. Today she was wearing a pair of cut-off shorts and a black tank top, which accentuated her tiny waist and the way her hips flared out provocatively.
I wouldn’t be surprised at all if Adam was interested in her. “Cam thinks Adam likes you.”
Her eyes got wide as saucers. “He does?”
I grinned and nodded.
Her smile slipped. “Well, he won’t date any of his dancers so it doesn’t matter.”
I didn’t say anything else because the guys appeared hauling a large white mattress. After that, we all worked together helping her get all her stuff out of Adam’s truck and into the apartment.
Correction: they all unloaded Adam’s truck and I sat around unpacking boxes (mostly clothes) because Cam wouldn’t let me carry anything.
When Adam heard about my concussion, he almost forced me to stay home from work that night, but I flat out refused. There was no way I was going to miss work. I needed the money.