Page 70 of Handcuffed to the Bear

“How is she?”

Avery sighed and folded his hands over his knee. “You know what? Go find out yourself. By talking to her. She won’t bite.”

“You’ve never turned into Susie Q. Matchmaker with any of the other girls I’ve dated.”

“I’ve never seen you get this tangled up about one before, either.” Avery toyed with the head of his cane. “Look, Jack, neither you nor I believe in that old superstition about shifters and mating at first sight. But any fool can see there’s something there this time.”

“Bonding under fire,” Jack mumbled indistinctly, unwrapping another burger.

“Doesn’t mean it can’t last,” Avery said, somewhat pointedly.

“She’s not a werewolf, man.”

“No, but she’s clearly hung up on you. If you walk away because it’s not working out between you, okay, that’s one thing. I wouldn’t get involved. But if you head for the hills like you always do at the first hint of commitment?—”

“Then it’s your God-given right as my best friend to turn me around and march me back into the line of fire?” Jack demanded, exasperated.

“Well, if you think of the girls you date as the enemy, Jack, then no wonder your love life is such a dismal wasteland.”

Jack was saved from answering by a tap at the door. “Up for company?” Steirs asked, leaning in.

“Can I put on pants first, Chief?”

“I don’t know, I think I prefer you this way,” the division chief said, folding her arms and lounging against the wall. “It means you can’t run away.”

“Which means you want a report.”

“Yeah, that’s part of my job, Ross.” She smiled then, her face relaxing into a warmth that most people rarely saw. “It’s good to have you back in one piece. More or less.”

Half an hour later, Jack felt slightly wrung out from the questions, but he’d also given a reasonably thorough account of his time on the island—at least the important details. He’d tried to talk up Casey’s heroism as much as possible.

“Did they apprehend the rest of the Fallons?” he asked, as Stiers shut off the recorder.

“They did,” Stiers said, “and that’s all I can say at this point, until I get a chance to debrief Eva and Mila properly.Nowyou can put your pants on.”

She went off to locate Willa, and Jack got dressed. Avery, having had some experience with this sort of thing, had picked up the loosest sweats in the condo; still, it took some time to work the clothing over his sore, bandaged limbs. He had to stop in the middle of the process to sit on the side of the bed and catch his breath.

“Yeah,” Avery said, “you’re doinggreat.”

“Make yourself useful and bring the car around, Jeeves.”

After Avery flipped him off and left, Jack clenched his teeth and leaned over to put his socks and shoes on. Everything between his hips and shoulders protested agonizingly at the bending and twisting.

It’s nothing a few days in bed won’t fix.

“I hear you’ve decided not to accept our hospitality,” Willa Lafitte said, breezing into his room. Stiers was nowhere to be seen, but Dr. Lafitte looked slightly mussed.

“You know I’ll recuperate better at home.”

“I know youthinkyou will. Fortunately or unfortunately, I’m of the opinion that mental health is just as important to recovery as a person’s physical health, which in your case apparently means privacy. And I hope you didn’t just put those britches on, because I’m gonna need you to drop ‘em.”

After looking him over, she pronounced him good to go (“by Jack Ross standards, anyway”), with a laundry list of antibiotics and painkillers to take with him, and an even longer list of worrying symptoms to watch out for.

“I’ll stop by every once in a while to make sure he’s still breathing,” Avery said from the doorway. “Ready to roll?”

“I leave him in your capable hands, then.” Dr. Lafitte patted Jack’s shoulder, and left.

“I like this hospital,” Jack said, tottering to his feet. “No wheelchairs.”

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