Page 87 of The Potter

That doesn’t concern me. “When is he ever happy?”

“True.” Duke laughs, standing and checking a few of the monitors at my side, his tone turning serious. This is the Dr. Duke I’ve never seen before. “Are you in pain?”

With a quick mental scan of my muscles, I flex, noting tightness and an ache I know will turn into a fiery pain later. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“That’s not what he asked you.” My gaze whips to the man at my feet, lifting off the bed and coming to stand next to his brother, his hair mussed from sleep as he looks at the monitors for himself.

Duke flashes me a wink. “Now that Dr. Dreamy is awake, I’ll leave you in his grumpy hands.” He steps back and points at me. “Astor doesn’t want to see you at the office for six weeks, Hal. Doctor’s orders.”

“Eight weeks,” Vance barks out. “She needs to heal properly.”

My ass. “Tell Astor I’ll see him in six,” I clip out, ignoring Vance’s twitching jaw and narrowed gaze. I don’t need him adding two weeks just because he’s overbearing and paranoid. This isn’t my first time recovering from a surgery. I know exactly how much time my body needs, and six weeks is more than enough.

“Right.” Duke grins, backing away slowly. “Well, just remember to bring a clearance letter from your doctor.”

My heart sinks as the two brothers smile, their expressions eerily similar to one another.

“Sorry, Hal. Your doctor always overrides your boss.”

I turn and face a smug Vance. “How convenient.”

“It can be.”

He thinks this is funny, and while I would love to argue with him, I don’t want him to drop his smile. Who would have thought I would have received this reaction from Vance after surgery? I was completely prepared for Duke to tend to my post-op care while he made excuses as to where Vance was.

Duke pauses at the door. “Be a sweet boy, Vance,” he says and then grins at me. “Don’t kill him until I can help you hide the body. I don’t want you lifting over five pounds and popping stitches.”

I bark out a laugh and immediately regret it when a sharp pain shoots up one side of my body.

“Duke!” Vance barks, his earlier smile falling into a tight frown as he lifts one side of the blankets, checking my incisions.

“I’ll come by your place later,” Duke promises, ignoring Vance, “and feed you and Oscar.”

The blanket crumples between Vance’s fist. “No need. She’ll be at my place.”

I swear Duke’s inhale is as sharp as mine as we both stare incredulously at Vance.

“I’m sorry. Did you sayyourhouse?” I ask, since clearly, I’m on good pain meds that cause hallucinations.

Vance nods tightly. “I told you I was not discharging you to that shithole with only a fish to take care of you.”

My stomach dips, and I’m pretty sure it’s not from the meds. “I don’t recall that clause being in the consent form I signed.” I dare him to lie.

His mouth tightens. “And I don’t recall giving a fuck.”

As Duke disappears, I watch as Vance busies himself with checking the monitors and adjusting settings that are more than likely unnecessary before I grab his hand. “Hey.”

His gaze whips to mine, sure and steady, with a focus I’ve never seen from him before. “I’m fine. Maybe you should go rest. You look tired.”

And cranky, but I don’t say that aloud since I would rather stay on his good side. No doubt the surgery took an emotional toll on him.

“I’m not tired,” he lies, casually pulling his hand away.

“Okay,” I drawl. “Maybe you should go have a drink then. Celebrate a successful surgery?”

He doesn’t even take a breath. “No.”

Okaaay. I see this line of suggestions is going nowhere fast.

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