Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Okay, so intense, touch-her-and-die Jack was gone, replaced by easygoing Jack.
Cool. Cool. She could deal.
No, she really wasn’t worried that he had a split-personality. That hadn’t even entered her head.
But she might suggest to Ian that he look into therapy for Jack as well as himself. And perhaps she’d take her own advice.
“From now on, you carry it on you at all times. And you . . .” He shot a glare at Jack. “You don’t send a message like that and then not answer your phone.”
Ahh. That’s who’d been calling Jack on their ride home. Wow. He’d called a lot.
“I told you she was fine,” Jack replied.
“I needed to see for myself. Are you sure you’re fine? If those assholes hurt you . . . ”
“They didn’t. I promise.”
He still didn’t look convinced. “Jameson, you need to examine her.”
“Ian, you’re overreacting,” Jameson said calmly. “Maggie says she’s fine. Jack said they didn’t touch her. So relax.”
“I didn’t say that,” Jack said.
Both men stared over at Jack.
“What?”
Strangely, it was Jameson who snapped out the word.
“They touched you? Where?” Ian demanded.
“You all need to calm down,” she said in a low voice. “It’s not that bad. One of them grabbed my wrist. That’s all.”
“It was her sore wrist. He hurt her,” Jack said. “I heard her make a pained noise.”
She scowled at Jack. “Are you trying to make Ian’s head explode?”
He shrugged. Grr. He was so infuriating.
Ian drew up the sleeve of her long-sleeved T-shirt, revealing the fading bruise.
Jameson sucked in a breath. “What is this? How did you get that bruise?” He pushed Ian out of the way so he could take hold of her hand.
She tried to tug her hand free. Having Jameson touch her was almost too much.
It wasn’t fair that he was so gorgeous. Especially when she was a wreck. She was wearing black jeans with rips on the knees. A long-sleeved top that had been washed so much that the black now looked gray. And her hair was probably a rat’s nest.
Maybe she should consider getting a pet rat instead of a cat.
But having a pet was kind of impossible when she traveled so much.
“I wish I could have a pet,” she muttered.
“What sort?” Jack asked.
Oh. Oops. Had she said that out loud?
“A rat.”
Jameson tightened his hold on her hand. “A rat?”
“What’s wrong with a rat?” she asked. “Rats are cute. They don’t eat much, which is good since I can’t afford much. They’re surprisingly clean and they’re very trainable.”
“Maybe we should replace Ian with one since he’s none of those things,” Jack said with a wicked grin.
She had to stifle a laugh as Ian grumbled.
“It’s unusual, but I suppose you can have whatever pet you like,” Jameson said. “You still haven’t told me how you got this.”
“It was her uncle,” Ian said.
Jameson’s hand tightened on hers to the point of pain.
“Jameson, ease up,” Jack barked.
“What?”
Ian slapped his hand away. “You’re squeezing her hand. What is wrong with you?”
“Uh, sorry.” Jameson ran his hand over his face. “Sorry, Maggie.”
“Um, it’s all right.”
“Her uncle grabbed her when he nearly fell,” Ian told him, watching him strangely. “It was an accident.”
“Right. And then this guy grabbed you here today?” Jameson asked as he took hold of her hand again, this time much more carefully.
“Yes, but my wrist is fine. Really.”
“There’s no swelling, so I think it will be all right. Just watch for signs of tenderness or swelling,” Jameson told her.
“Thanks.” She withdrew her hand.
“How did they get so close to her?” Ian barked at Jack.
“Don’t blame Jack!” she told Ian. “It wasn’t his fault.”
“It was my fault and it won’t happen again,” Jack said.
“Hey! I was trying to defend you and you’re ruining it.”
“I don’t deserve your defense,” Jack told her.
Okay, she didn’t like seeing Jack this way. It definitely wasn’t his fault. And nothing really happened.
Exhaustion washed over her. Her wrist was throbbing and so was her hip. She just wanted about twenty-four hours of sleep.
“Can I go back to Uncle Willy now?” she asked, trying to slip off the bed.
Jameson put his hand on her thigh to still her, then drew it back suddenly.
“My apologies,” he said.
“For what?”
“Uh, touching you without permission.”
“Relax, man. You touched her thigh. You didn’t grab her ass. Although you should. It’s a damn fine ass.”
“Jack!” everyone said together.
Jack just grinned.
“Good news,” Ian said. “Jameson is letting your uncle go home tonight.”
“Well, I was going to,” Jameson said, running his hand through his hair. Damn, how did he do that without messing it all up?
And what did he mean going to? Why was he rethinking that?
Then he glanced down at her wrist and away, and she realized why he was rethinking the decision.
“That’s great!” she said brightly. “I’m sure he’ll feel much better out of the hospital. I’ll go get him ready.”