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)
“I’d like you to take it easy for the next week. Rest when it hurts. And no carrying anything heavy or long walks for the next few days, at least.”
“You got it, Doc.” She saluted him.
Little brat.
“You’re going to take it easy, Little Misfit,” Ian told her firmly.
She huffed out a sigh but nodded.
“We’ve got the photo shoot rescheduled in three days’ time. Is that enough for her to rest?”
“Should be fine. As long as the swelling and pain have gone down.”
“Goody. That’s done. No more wheelchair or stupid tests.” Then she turned to Jameson. “You said there was going to be a treat?”
Something like unease filled him. Would she not want what he was offering? Was she expecting more?
“I thought I’d take you to the cafeteria for lunch. My treat.” Actually, now he thought about it, that sounded lame. “I mean . . . it sounds like it’s not very nice, but there are actually two chefs and a vast array—”
“Does it have pizza?” she interrupted.
“Uh, it might.” He didn’t know. He’d never noticed.
“Doesn’t matter. It’s food and I’m fading away here.”
“Why didn’t you say you were hungry?” Ian asked. “This is because you barely ate breakfast. I packed snacks.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You tried to feed me oatmeal. Oatmeal! And the snacks you packed are fiber bars and apples.”
“What?” Ian said defensively. “There’s nothing wrong with those as snacks.”
“No, but pizza sounds way more interesting.”
“Hey! He’s the one who said we had to feed you better.” Ian pointed at Jameson.
“But this is a treat,” she said. “Bars that keep me regular are not treats. Now, let’s go. I can’t wait to get out of this place. No offense.”
“None taken,” Jameson said dryly, holding out his hands to help her up.
Ian hovered as they walked slowly to the lift. She grew tense as they got closer.
Fuck. A lift after she’d just been in the MRI machine seemed like too much to ask. Plus, she’d already had to take the elevator up here once today.
Suddenly, Ian moved around in front and picked her up, cradling her against his chest.
“Ian? What are you doing?” she asked.
“Carrying you.” He headed away from the lift.
“But why? I can walk. And where are we going?”
“Down the stairs.”
Jameson moved ahead of them and opened the door to the stairwell.
“You can’t carry me all the way down,” she protested without much heat.
“Watch me.”
She buried her face in the spot where his neck and shoulder met and let out a small sigh. “Thank you.”
“Welcome, Little girl.”
Jameson cursed himself for not offering to help her.
She’s not yours.
Bollocks. This was becoming a problem.
Ian set her down once they got to the ground floor, although Jameson could see the reluctance on the other man’s face as he let her go. Jameson held out his arm to her, needing to touch her.
It was a craving that he was finding increasingly hard to ignore.
Turns out that the cafeteria did have pizza. He turned to her as he grabbed her tray from her hand. “Why don’t you go find us a table, Maggie?”
“Okie-dokie.”
“Ian, what do you want?” he asked.
“I’m on bodyguard duty. I’ll have something later. Give you two a chance to chat.”
Once he’d gotten their food, he walked over, sliding into the seat across from her.
“Yummy! Thank you!” She picked up the piece of pizza and took a big bite.
“Careful! You didn’t even test that to make sure it wasn’t hot.”
Shit. He was totally going all Daddy on her.
Her eyes watered as she swallowed hastily then fanned her mouth as if that would help. “Update: it is.”
“Shortcake, you’re going to burn the roof of your mouth,” he scolded as he undid the bottle of water he’d bought for her and held it out to her.
“Might be too late,” she said after she gulped some down.
“You need a minder.”
“I’ve got one. Have you not met Ian? And what is he doing standing over there? The way he keeps glaring, he’s going to put people off their lunch.”
“He’s being your bodyguard.”
“No one is interested in me. So silly. I think it’s a waste of resources to have him or Jack always following me around. Do you know they don’t have a name like the other security teams? I’m thinking of calling them the Dommy Duo.”
Jameson gaped at her, then shook his head with a smile.
He wanted to scold her, tell her that of course she needed watching. She’d just burned her mouth eating pizza for God’s sake. Then there was her run-in with the Purity Party the other day.
Yes, she definitely needed watching.
But Dommy Duo? That was pretty funny.
“Are you all right, Jameson?”
“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” he asked.
“You look tired. Are you getting enough sleep?”
He blinked at her. He wasn’t used to people asking him if he was all right.
“Pretty sure those are the questions I’m supposed to ask you, young lady.”