Page 77 of The Cowboy Complication

“It’s a flesh wound.” He tried making light of the situation, even though his current situation made it a difficult task to accomplish.

“It’s not a flesh wound.” Isla’s gaze traveled to his shoulder, moving over the bandage covering it. “It hit your collarbone, breaking it and deflecting.” Her already pale skin lost even more color. “If it went the other direction, it could have hit your heart or a lung or—” Her voice broke on a sob that wracked her whole body.

“Come here.” He reached for her, bringing up his good arm to attempt to pull her close.

“What are you doing?” A stern voice stalled his efforts.

A short, older woman came striding into his room, eyes narrowed on where Isla was perched next to him. “He just had surgery.” Her non-slip orthopedic sneakers squeaked across the floor as she came to his side and inspected the IV bags feeding into his arm. “You can’t be climbing all over him.”

“She can do whatever she wants.” He grabbed Isla as she tried to slip away, managing to stop her retreat. “It makes me feel better.”

The nurse rolled her eyes but continued checking him over. “She better not try to make you feel too much better. This place has rules, and I’d hate to have to kick you out.”

It was hard to tell if she was teasing or not. The woman had zero inflection in her tone and her expression gave nothing away.

Just to be safe, he laughed. “You don’t have to worry about that. This place doesn’t really scream romance.”

The nurse lifted her brows. “You’d think that.”

Isla’s nose wrinkled. “Gross.”

The nurse turned her way, face serious. “You have no idea.”

In spite of his hold on her, Isla managed to get off the edge of the bed as the nurse continued checking his vitals and inspecting the bandage. After that was done, she helped get him up and into the bathroom so he could get rid of some of the fluids they were pumping into him. His toothbrush was magically on the counter—along with the rest of his essentials—so he gave his teeth a quick scrub and swiped on a layer of deodorant. Then the nurse helped get him back in bed. Once he was back in place, with Isla adjusting his covers and pillow, the nurse began listing off information as she walked to the door.

“The surgeon should be here soon to check you out. She might change your bandage, might not. If you need to get up again, hit the call button and someone will come help you. I don’t want to have to pick your heavy butt up off the floor.” She stopped when she reached the doorway, turning to face him. “Your breakfast should be here soon. I don’t know what it is, your fiancée ordered it since you weren’t awake.”

She must have seen the look on his face because she quickly amended. “I just assumed she was your fiancée cause of that rock on her finger.” She shrugged. “But what do I know?” Then she turned and walked away.

Leaving him staring at Isla’s left hand. As claimed, the ring he’d purchased the day before sparkled from its place on her third finger, picking up every bit of the light in the room and reflecting it back at him.

“It was in the pocket of your shirt.” Isla started to pull it off. “I found it and didn’t want it to get lost.” She held it out. “But you can have it back.”

“That’s not mine, Princess.” No way in hell was he taking that thing back. She put it on her finger of her own free will, and that’s where it was staying.

Forever.

“That’s yours.”

Her dark eyes focused on the diamond, expression pinching into sadness. “Did I ruin your plans?”

He laughed. Loudly. “Sweetheart youaremy plans.” He tipped his head toward the ring. “Now put that back on your finger and get in this bed.”

Isla’s smile lit up the room, easing a little of the pain throbbing across his bruised chest and damaged shoulder. “Okay.”

Unfortunately, before she could climb back onto the mattress, his promised breakfast arrived and she insisted on getting him fed.

“You need to eat.” Isla slid the adjustable table over his lap and lifted the top off a plate of scrambled eggs, limp bacon, and whole wheat toast. “It takes a lot of energy to heal.”

He looked her over. “How do you know how much energy it takes to heal?” He hadn’t noticed any scars marring her perfect skin. And he’d been over just about every inch of her the past week.

Multiple times.

Isla groaned. “That freaking reminds me.” She peeled back the wrap covering a plate of fruit. “You’ll never guess who showed up at my apartment.”

He didn’t even have to think about it. “Eric.”

Isla’s brows pinched. “How did you know?”

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