Page 103 of RomeAntically Challenged
Afraid she was about to cry over the lovely and tender words he’d shared, she gripped the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss that reinforced what he’d said: The fit was just right.
When he lifted his head, she teased, “I should let you know that I do have work on Tuesday.”
“Tuesday?” The sexy grin he gave her made everything tingle with anticipation. “That gives me seventy-two hours to convince you that you belong in my bed, with me, my arms wrapped around you, my heart pressed against yours.”
Giving Annie seventy-two hours to convince herself that the guilt she was feeling was all for nothing.
Chapter 25
Normally, Emmitt would have ignored Gray’s phone call to remind him of his appointment that day, but Annie had already left for work, after giving Emmitt one hell of a good morning, so he answered and agreed to be there at his scheduled time.
Their extended weekend hadn’t offered up much in terms of sleep, but Emmitt wouldn’t have had it any other way. They’d spent seventy of those hours in bed and the remaining two in the kitchen making egg noodles from scratch. It was an apron-only dress code with a hands-on approach to cooking.
There was more hands-on than cooking, but they’d managed to create some pretty amazing egg noodles. And the soup? He was never eating store-bought again.
He was in such a good mood, even Gray couldn’t ruin his day. Which was why Emmitt arrived five minutes early for his appointment and, even when Gray took Emmitt to the exam room instead of his office—meaning this was aturn your head and coughkind of appointment—Emmitt didn’t bring up the fact that Paisley had chosen him over Gray for the first dance.
“So, I hear Rosalie was able to get a copy of my chart from China,” Emmitt said, hopping up on the exam table.
“Even from the distance of seven thousand miles, the woman can instill fear in her prey.” Gray got busy with the pregame warm-up, taking Emmitt’s blood pressure and such. “It’s why I pay her so much.”
“I thought it was because you’re scared of her.”
“That too,” Gray said, taking a seat and flipping the monitor around so Emmitt could see. “So we can skip over the wholejust a bit if shrapnelBS you’ve been preaching.”
“Like you believed it.”
“When you walked to pick up Paisley I started to wonder, but when you Ubered everywhere, I knew it was bad.”
Emmitt let out a breath and asked the question he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to. “How bad is it? I had a feeling a lot was lost in translation.”
“It’s a miracle you’re alive. A millimeter to the right and you wouldn’t have walked out of there, and that’s not even considering the trauma to the head.” Gray walked over and began to gently probe Emmitt’s head, taking notes on the remaining sore spots. “Scale of one to passing out and puking, how are the headaches?”
“Today, I’d say a five, but there are times when the puking threatens. But not nearly as frequently as before.” And since there was no point in hiding anything from Gray any longer, he took off his shirt.
Gray gave a low whistle. “That must have hurt like a bitch.”
“Is that your official diagnosis?” he asked. Gray sent him a look. “And yes, it did and sometimes it still does.”
“How often?”
Emmitt took a deep breath and thought of what Annie had said about how lucky he was to have a family to support him, if he’d just let them. And while he’d never admit it aloud for fear that Gray’s ego would grow big enough to eclipse the sun, he loved the guy. He loved how Gray was with Paisley, respected the hell out of him for how seriously he took his role as her stepdad.
Oh, who was he kidding? Gray was as much Paisley’s dad as Emmitt. He loved her with a ferocity that rivaled Emmitt’s and would give his life if it meant saving Paisley’s.
Bottom line, if Emmitt wanted this patchwork of a family to work, and he did, then he needed to start treating them all like family.
“More than it should,” he admitted. “It’s getting better, but if you were to accidently bump me in the ribs, it would knock the breath out of me.”
“The soreness could last another four to six weeks, but that just means you’re healing. That said, if you promise to take it slow and ease back into things, I’m comfortable clearing you for work.”
“That’s... I don’t know what to say.” Emmitt tugged on his shirt. “Thanks, man. This is great news.” He could finally put this story to rest.
Gray’s expression implied he wasn’t so sure. Clearing his throat, he scooted to the computer, and the screen lit. “I can e-mail this to you, or if you can wait a few minutes, I’ll have Rosalie get the paperwork together and your sentence in Rome will be over.”
“I can wait,” he said. “And for the record, I don’t hate being home. And you can wipe the dumbfounded look off your face. Contrary to all the crap you guys give me, I love being home.”
“Yet you keep hounding me about when you get to leave.”
