Page 106 of Chasing Grace
“Complaining like a bitch,” Doc said from where he leaned against the staircase, arms and ankles crossed.
“Heard that,” Cody yelled from his facedown position on the leather couch in the great room. Claiming it as compensation for being shot in the posterior, he’d taken up residence on the best napping surface every afternoon since their arrival.
“Here’s the Flexeril you wanted.” Digging in the cargo pocket of his tactical pants, Doc pulled out a pill bottle and flipped it at Chase, who caught it single-handed. “Don’t take more than two at a time, or it’s lights out for a week.”
“Flexeril?” Gray asked, straightening so she could look Chase in the face as he shoved the rattling container into the back pocket of her jeans.
He took advantage of having access to her lips and kissed her hard and fast. “Muscle relaxant.”
“Doc, you have to tell him about the side effects,” Cody yelled. “Seriously, Mac, that crap is detrimental to your package. I’d go with the sore back instead if I were you.”
“What!” Alarmed, Gray unhooked her ankles and reached her boots for the floor. “Why the fuck didn’t you say something, dickhead?”
“Can someone shut him up?” Chase grumbled, refusing to let go of her anatomy and making his way to the stairs. “My hands are full.”
On a roll, Cody continued, “It says so right there on the label. Warning—may cause limp dick.”
“Please,” Z said in an uncharacteristically loud voice. “Someone shoot him in the other butt cheek.”
Doc groaned, “I’m not touching Babbitt’s ass again. If he picks up any more butt lead, he’s on his own.”
Crashing through the kitchen door, Davis’s entry outdid Cody’s. An out-of-control sock slide sent the kid knocking into the hall table, causing a stack ofFarmer’s Almanacmagazines to tumble to the floor. “Hey, Mr. Mackenzie,” he said, turning beet red.
“Mr. Mackenzie is my father, kid. Call me Chase.”
Davis’s enthusiastic, “Yes, sir,” elicited a collective groan. Undaunted, he continued, “Do you need me to wash the Challenger?” Unable to hide the eagerness in his voice, he practically vibrated in anticipation.
“Got no time for a car wash,” Grant said, poking his head out the door and looking around. “Hey.” In seconds, his focus flipped back to Chase. “Where the hell’s my car?”
“What’s your hurry, Kincaid?”
Grant shrugged. “I got places to be.”
“Well, stick around, asshole. I need to talk to you.” Chase turned his back and started making his way up the stairs with her still in his arms.
Her new position offered a good view of the entry and Grant’s facial expression as it went from moderately annoyed to completely pissed off. He knew as well as she did he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
Relieved, she whooped. “You’re fucked now, Kincaid!” Halfway up the stairs, she blew him a kiss and then flipped him the bird. “That’s for calling me stinky,” she yelled before Chase turned the corner and her family disappeared from view.
With one armunder his head, propping it off the pillow, Chase watched the western sky bleed pink from the setting sun while the woman he loved lay draped over his chest. “How’d it go with Dr. Christina today?”
“Good. She’d like to meet you.”
“That’s a great idea. When’s your next appointment?”
“Tomorrow at eleven.” She yawned, and Chase felt the huff of her breath against his pec.
“That works for me.”
“That’s because you’re a persistent fucker,” she mumbled.
“True. But you love me anyway, baby. Don’t even try to deny it.”
She snorted, and he trailed the fingers of his free hand up and down the curve of her back. The steady motion soothed his guilt and eased his mind. Her skin felt warm and soft beneath the pads of his fingers, although the knobby bones of her spine were far too prominent.
She hadn’t been eating enough. Kincaid had told him as much, and now that Chase had arrived, he intended to make sure she did. Taking proper care of her was the best way for him to honor Tak’s sacrifice. His best friend would expect no less.
“Are you thinking about Tak?” she mumbled, her voice hovering somewhere between semi-consciousness and deep sleep.
