Falling For A Redneck (8 page)

Dirk heard the crash—a very close-sounding crash—and jumped out of the armchair where he sat snuggling his boys. He uttered a rushed apology for dumping them on the floor. They squawked at him as he raced to the front door and flew through it.

The first thing he noticed when he opened the door was that the car doing surveillance had disappeared
. Then he saw Marissa’s car crumpled against her garage door, the engine still running drunkenly.

“Marissa!” he shouted, taking off at a jog that turned into a sprint when he saw her lying slumped over the steering wheel
. He wrenched the driver’s side door open, wanting to pull her out, yet afraid to touch her.

“Marissa,” he said, lightly touching her shoulder. She didn’t respond. Dirk anxiously checked for any bleeding, but afraid to move her, he couldn’t really tell
what her injuries were.

What if she has internal bleeding? Her car smacked the garage pretty hard
. Could be all kinds of things going on that I can’t see.
His heart raced in panic. He needed to get her some help.

“Avery!” he bellowed, his voice louder than intended, a sign he was more freaked out than he’d like to admit.

“What?” said Avery’s little voice from right behind him. The boys had followed him out of the house and stood behind him, staring in shock. Mason’s eyes were tearing as he sucked hard on his thumb.

Mason popped out his thumb.
“Is Mari ’kay?” His eyes brimmed over, and his lower lip trembled.

“Oh Mason, little guy,” said Dirk
, sweeping him up in his arms. “She’ll be okay. Avery, get a phone so we can call an ambulance.”

“No,” said a
groggy voice.

Dirk turned to see Marissa lifting her head slowly from the steering wheel
. Her face twisted, and she couldn’t stop a wince.

“You whacked yourself pretty good there. You should get checked out.”

“I hit my head. I’ll be fine. Stupid car. I don’t know what happened.”

Dirk wondered too and asked
, “How did you manage to run into your own garage?”

“I don’t know. I hit the brakes
, but the pedal just went down and the car just kept revving up.”

Dirk frowned at the car then at Marissa as she eased herself out of the car gingerly.

“Maybe you shouldn’t move. I’m going to call an ambulance.”

“No
.” A word at odds with her thready tone and wobbly stance.

Dirk put down Mason and loaned her a hand to hold her steady.
“Princess, you might have internal injuries or even a concussion.”

“My body is fine.
Just my head that hurts.”

Done arguing with her, Dirk just scooped her
into his arms and carried her back to his house. The boys ran ahead and opened the door for him so he could sweep right in and deposit her on their plaid family armchair. Or the snuggle chair, as the boys called it.

Mason stood by the chair, silently sucking his thumb
, his gaze trained on Marissa.

Avery
, knowing the drill for bumps—of which the boys were veterans—ran for the ice pack. Dirk started to make a beeline for the acetaminophen, knowing she’d have one hell of a headache, but first, he ran back out and silenced the engine of her rattling car. Pulling out the key, he stood back and looked at the car for a moment. Something didn’t seem right. His nagging suspicion seemed farfetched. Not wanting to leave Marissa alone, though, he jogged back into the house, making a mental note to call Andy and have him tow the car to the garage so he could take a look at it later on.

First
, he need to locate some painkillers for his princess’ sore head.

Little drums beat in Marissa’s head, pounding waves of pain that made her slightly nauseous, and fearful.

Oh
God, I don’t want him to see me throw up. I’ve got to get out of here.

Pride and determination to not appear weak—or gross—saw her trying to
stand and almost toppling as the room lurched. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.
Come on, Marissa, you can do this
. She opened them again, the room no longer spinning, only to find herself confronted by a staring, unblinking Mason.

He popped his thumb out of his mouth long enough to state,
“Daddy says sit.”

“Tell your
Daddy I had to go home,” she replied as she weaved in the direction of the front door—all three of them—only to end up confronted by another little munchkin wielding an ice pack like a weapon.

Avery adopted a stern mien. “You need to sit so I can put the ice pack on your head. Daddy says if you don’t get it on quick you get a really big bruise.”

“I’ve got ice at home,” Marissa said obstinately, still trying to stagger forward to the door, a bloody door that kept dancing around in front of her. Her stomach lurched unsteadily along with her while her head throbbed to the steady thump of a sadistic marching band.

A sudden weight sent her off balance
, and she peeked down to see Mason had wrapped himself around her leg. Cute, yet that simple act was enough to topple her. She couldn’t help herself from falling and tensed her body for impact.

But before she hit, strong hands caught her.

“And just where do you think you’re going, princess?” asked a mocking voice.

Marissa’s stomach lurched.
Oh God, no
, she managed to think before puking on his feet and swooning.

Marissa
regained consciousness with a pounding headache in a hospital bed sporting an IV in one arm and the world’s flattest pillow under her head. Craning her head slowly to avoid antagonizing the daggers of pain lancing through it, she noted a big heart-shaped balloon with a teddy bear saying “Get Bear-ter.”
Ick
. She turned away from this Hallmark monstrosity to find herself eye-to-eye with her redneck neighbor.

“Good
, you’re awake.” Dirk smiled at her.

“Barely,” she grumbled. “I thought I told you no hospitals.”

“Yeah, well, when you puked on my feet and wouldn’t wake up, I decided you needed to get checked out.” Marissa cringed. “Doctor says you should be fine, by the way, and you can go home. But,” he said, raising his hand at her smile of self-satisfaction, “you need someone to keep an eye on you and wake you every couple of hours for the next twenty-four hours.”

“Sure,” said Marissa. She’d agree to anything to get out of here. She hated hospitals.
All those icky germs. She’d just lie to the doctor about someone checking in on her.

“I told the doctor I live right next door and that I’d check on you.”

“What?”
Who does he think he is? My boyfriend?

Dirk grinned unabashedly at her. “Oh please. I know you well enough to know you’d have lied to get out of here. You have a mild concussion
, princess. For the next twenty-four hours, I’m going to be your nursemaid.”

“I don’t need
—” she argued.

“Yes
, you do,” he interrupted. “So you can save your breath.”

“Why are you doing this?” Marissa asked
, baffled. “I mean, it’s not like we even like each other.” Even if their bodies sure did.

“Speak for yourself
, princess. I like you just fine.”

“You do not. Nobody likes me.” Of course, Marissa didn’t do anything to help th
e situation. She preferred being alone—with misery for company. And hell. Sometimes self-pity joined them for a threesome.

“I’d say I proved that theory wrong last night,” he replied dryly. “Or do you need a repeat? The nurses might be a little shocked, but I’m more than willing to prove I like you.”

“You fucked me, redneck.” She deliberately used a crass word. “That was just our bodies. It doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

“You’re right
. We’re closer than friends. We’re lovers.”

“Lovers
implies it’s ongoing. We did it once.” Although if her body had its way, they’d do it again and again and…

“And we will do it again,” he said with assurance
, repeating her thoughts.

“Say
s who?” Marissa couldn’t help arguing. It just wasn’t in her nature to give in easily or gracefully.

“Says me,” he said
, leaning forward so his nose brushed hers while his eyes stared intently into hers. “Call it what you like, lovers or fuck buddies. I want you, and I know you still want me.”

“Do not,” she stubbornly
maintained. Meanwhile her body grew warm, making her a big fat liar.
Somebody get a doctor because I have a fever!
Blame her reaction on her mishap because no way was she interested in anything ongoing with the redneck at her bedside.

“Really
?” he drawled, running one finger down her cheek to her lips, which opened in a half sigh. “You want me. Don’t make me prove it here. We might not be the best of friends yet, but our bodies are in harmony. Or are you trying to tell me you didn’t enjoy last night?”

Marissa blushed to the roots of her hair. “I did
, but—”

“No buts. As soon as you are better, we will be doing it again.
And again. I’m figuring three times a day might keep me from getting constant hard-ons.”

His crude compliment flustered her. She stifled it.
“Don’t I get a say in this?” Forget the fact that with just words—and despite her pounding headache—he was still managing to arouse her. She mustered some anger at his commanding air. Who put him in charge of her body? Never mind the fact she desired the same naked thing.

“I know what you’ll say. So from now on I make the decisions,” he said
, kissing her lightly, forestalling her next words. Before she could find her wits and retort, he left saying over his shoulder, “I’ll be back. I’m going to find the doc and see about getting you discharged.”

Marissa silently fumed. She fumed when he made the arrangements for her to be checked out of the hospital. She fumed in the wheelchair
as he wheeled her out. She fumed in his car—a nice remodeled Monte Carlo—all the way home.

Wisely gauging her mood,
Dirk said not a word, unless you counted humming. He hummed to the radio, tapping his hands on the steering wheel while grinning at her every so often. He seemed completely untouched by her ill humor.
The jerk.

Tired of his obvious
enjoyment at her expense, she asked, “Where are the boys?”

“Andy,
the guy I work with, is watching them. Good thing we weren’t delayed too long at the hospital. Andy’s a good guy, but he’s little more than a kid himself, and, well, my boys can get up to mischief without a firm hand to guide them.”

Marissa said nothing further,
instead staring blankly out the window, trying to ignore Dirk’s disturbing presence beside her. Soon she would be home and able to escape and hide from the feelings he provoked in her, both mental and physical.

She still couldn’t get over his high
-handed behavior with her in the hospital. Telling her they were lovers and that he’d call the shots. Marissa didn’t want a lover. That implied feelings. His other term, fuck buddies, seemed more appropriate. Fuck buddies did just that—fuck, with no emotional attachment. That she could handle. She’d do him until she got him out of her system, and then she could go back to her neatly ordered—boring and lonely—life.

Wait a second, what happened to not going near him at all? Apparently, she’d changed her mind.
More like her body seemed determined to get its way, and its way meant more touching and kissing.

Pulling into his driveway,
Dirk cut the ignition. She immediately opened the door to get out, throwing a “Thank you” over her shoulder. As if he’d let her escape that easily.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked
in a tone her father used on her when he caught her sneaking out of the house in high school.

S
topping to look at him leaning on the top of his car, she shrugged and said in a, isn’t-it-obvious-voice, “Home.”

He shook his head. “No you’re not. The doctor said someone had to keep an eye on you
, and I can’t do that if you’re there and I’m here. Unless you want me to bring the boys over. I warn you, though, they leave a path of destruction behind them that is worse than any tornado.”

Marissa thought of her pristine house and shuddered.

He smirked. “That’s what I thought. So it’s decided. You’ll stay at my house for the rest of today and overnight. That way I can wake you every four hours like I’m supposed to.” His self-satisfied smile said more than words that he had her cornered.
We’ll see about that.
Marissa opened her mouth to argue but snapped it shut when he said, smile unwavering, “If you argue, I’m going to kiss you over and over and over until you shut up. So please go ahead and vent because I’d love to taste your lips again.”

As threats went
, it worked. Marissa kept her lips clamped. Kind of stupid of her seeing as how she also wanted to taste him again.
It’s the point of the matter
, she thought huffily.

F
or a second, he didn’t bother to hide his evident disappointment but then laughed. “Stubborn, princess. As if you’ll be able to stay silent for long. I can’t wait to see how long it takes before you make me kiss you. I’m wagering within the hour.”

Marissa glared while he laughed
. Despite her best attempt, he didn’t end up as a pile of ash. On the contrary, appearing more virile and alive every time she saw him, he came around the car and swept her into his muscular arms. Helpless in his grip, he carried her over the threshold into his house.
Here comes the bride—not!

“We’re home,” he called after walking in and settling her back in the big armchair.

A lanky fellow in an AC/DC T-shirt and low-hipped jeans wandered into the room followed by the boys. “Hey, Dirk.”

His brief greeting was quickly overwhelmed
by matching yells of “Daddy!” by both boys who raced at Dirk for a swirl-around hug. The children crowed, a loud sound that made the pounding in her head speed up.

She couldn’t stop a wince
, and Dirk’s smile of greeting for his sons turned to one of chagrin. “Sorry, princess. My boys tend to be a little loud.”

“Now there’s an understatement,” she said dryly. She felt scrabbling at her legs and
peeked down in time to see Mason climb up on her and settle himself in her lap, thumb in his mouth.

Dirk stared at them with an odd look on his face while Marissa sat
still, holding her breath.
What do I do?
She’d never had a child do this to her. She placed her arms awkwardly around Mason, who snuggled deeper into her, making her eyes prickle with moisture.
Oh my, but this is nice
.

“You
’kay, Mari?” lisped Mason, craning his head to fix her with a stare.

“I’m better now,” she whispered
, touched by this little boy’s concern and trying to figure out how she got dust in her eyes.

A nudge on her elbow had her turning her head to see Avery looking at her
, his face curious, and she could tell he brimmed with questions. “Did they prick you with needles? Did you have to eat any awful medicine? Did you get the green Jell-O? I don’t like green Jell-O. I like the red one.”

Marissa reeled under the
deluge of questions. Dirk saved her. “Hey, Avery, can you make Marissa a tall glass of water with ice cubes?”

“Okay,” he said
, racing off. Apparently, children did not walk; they ran.

Dirk turned to Andy. “Hey,
did you feed my kids any lunch while we were gone?”

Laughter shook the lanky fellow.
“Kind of. We had some Froot Loops. That’s about all I can cook.”

A sigh left
Dirk as he shook his head. “Dude, seriously? How is it you don’t starve?”

“Oh
, I never worry about that. Every woman I meet wants to feed me,” Andy said with a wink at Marissa.

Marissa frowned at him.
His impertinence and boyish grins wouldn’t work on her.

“Okay
, boys, I’m hungry, and I’ll bet you are too. What should we make for lunch?”

“PANCAKES!” screamed the two youngsters without hesitation
. Mason jumped off her lap to hop up and down with Avery, who sloshed the glass of water he’d fetched all over the floor. Marissa itched to grab a towel and wipe it.

She also winced at the continued noise level
. For two little boys, they made an awful racket.