Horse Play (Horse Play #1) (11 page)

“How bad is it?” he asked, glancing at me briefly.

With a controlled breath, I dropped my gaze to my hands and lied. “It’s not so bad anymore.”

“I thought we established last night that you’re a terrible liar.” There was a slight inflection in his voice that told me, without having to look, that he was smirking.

“Oh, right. On a scale of one to ten?” I saw Jensen nod once through my periphery. “Well over ten. I think I cracked a rib.”

Obviously frustrated, Jensen ran his fingers through his hair. “I told you to be careful.”

His words affected me deeply. It wasn’t like I meant for this to happen; I honestly thought I would be okay on Glory. The fact that I was in pain and frustrated with my own clumsiness didn’t help me remain level-headed. I found myself suddenly annoyed with him being so … controlling—even if it was borne out of his concern. My eyebrows knit together and I glared up at him. “It’s my job. I not like I intended for this to happen,” I snapped.

With a sigh, Jensen’s clenched jaw relaxed, and he looked at me. His eyes were no longer dark and afraid, but light and apologetic. “I know. It’s just …” He trailed off before deciding not to finish that thought. “Never mind. That’s not important. What’s important is we get you taken care of now.”

Jensen’s total disregard for the posted speed limits resulted in us getting to the hospital in half the time. He parked as close to the doors as he could before running around to my side to help me out. Every movement caused me immense pain, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he helped me stand up straight. He took his place by my side and wrapped his hand around my waist, leading me into the building.

We walked up to the admittance desk, and when the receptionist looked up at us, she smiled. “Why, Jensen! How nice to see you again.”

His smile was warm, but rushed as he held me upright. “It’s nice to see you, too, Mrs. Johnston. I wish we could stay and chat, but my friend here is terribly hurt, and we need to see my mother if she’s available.” In response to his request, she nodded before picking up her telephone and punching in a series of numbers.

“Do you want to sit?” Jensen asked as he led me toward the row of seats in the waiting area.

“Um … I don’t know that I’d be able to stand up again without wanting to die.” With an understanding nod, Jensen remained by my side as we waited. It didn’t take long before the doors to the elevator opened and a blonde woman in a white doctor’s coat stepped out.

“Jensen? Sweetheart, what’s going on?” The woman approached, and the closer she got, the more I could see the similarities.

“Mom, this is Wayne’s daughter, Madison. She had an accident on her horse, and she thinks she might have broken something,” Jensen explained as his mother ushered us away from the waiting room and through a corridor until we were in an exam room. Jensen helped me up onto the table, and I inhaled sharply as I sat.

“Sorry,” he whispered, his fingers sliding along the exposed skin of my lower back as he removed his arm from around me.

“So you’re Wayne Landry’s daughter.” I nodded in response, still unable to really focus on anything besides the pain. “I’m Dr. Davis. But you can call me Marie.” There was a brief pause before she continued. “Jensen says he works with you?”

“For,” I managed to say. “Jensen works for me.”

Jensen chuckled from beside me. “And here I thought we’d made nice. I guess I shouldn’t complain, though; it would appear you haven’t lost your spark.”

“All right, Madison. Where does it hurt, honey?” Dr. Davis asked, ignoring our banter.

Indicating to my left side, I spoke. “My ribs.”

“Can I get you to lift your shirt so I can get a closer look?” I lifted my shirt and watched her blue eyes go wide. “And where does the bruising start and end?” she asked.

“Um, it starts about here,” I said, indicating to just beside my breast. “And ends about here.” I pointed to the side of my upper thigh.

She didn’t say anything more as she looked at my ribs. The bruising wasn’t any darker; in fact, it had lightened some in the last day and a half.

Dr. Davis’s hands reached out and touched my ribs gently. Of course, the pain that shot through my body suggested that maybe she hit me. With a sledgehammer.

“Ungh!” I cried out, my eyes clenching shut as my hand shot over and gripped Jensen’s. The pain was so excruciating, I hadn’t even realize I’d done it until Jensen laced his fingers through mine and started stroking the back of my hand with his thumb. It was calming.

Jensen’s mother sighed. “Madison, I’m afraid I’m going to have to run some x-rays. Until then, I won’t know what we’re dealing with. I’m going to give you a shot of morphine to take the edge off until we know what we’re dealing with.”

Needles skeeved me out most days, but I was quickly on board if it meant I could breathe again. Jensen helped me lower my shirt, which should have been weird, but because he refused to release my hand, it wasn’t. He then helped me down from the table, and we followed his mother to proceed with my x-rays.

It was a good thing I had been put into a wheelchair. The morphine kicked in on our way to the room where they kept the giant machine, making me feel hazy and loopy. Jensen stayed with me the entire time, only leaving once I was secure on the table to get scanned.

Once they were done, we were escorted back to our previous exam room to wait on the scans. After helping me back up onto the table, I started to wobble. I wanted to lie down.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jensen whispered as I started to lower myself onto the table. He hopped up next to me and sidled up to my right side, draping his arm behind me. I could feel his hand lightly brush my ass as he braced himself on the table.

I moaned softly, leaning to the side and resting my head on his shoulder. He removed his arm from behind me and began running his fingers through my hair.

“S’nice,” I told him, my words mumbled from my current high and my scalp tingling.

“How are you feeling?” he breathed, his lips brushing the top of my head, sending a shiver through me.

I snuggled in a little deeper. “So good.”

“Good,” he responded. This time his lips touched down on the top of my head, and I smiled before allowing my eyes to close.

I don’t know how long we sat like that—probably a couple hours at least—but my eyes flew open, and my head snapped up when the door opened. In strolled Dr. Davis with my chart and printed scans.

It would appear that having Jensen around might be good for more than just the obvious reasons. His mom had major pull at the hospital.
Score
. I rolled my eyes at my high self as Jensen’s mom slid the scans onto the board and turned the backlight on.

Jensen offered me a comforting smile, and I shifted my body to sit up straight. I hissed in pain when I realized the morphine was starting to wear off.

“You okay?” Jensen asked, his left hand resting against the small of my back.

“It hurts again, is all,” I said quietly, trying not to make it sound as bad as it was.

Dr. Davis turned to me. “The morphine is likely wearing off. I can give you another shot to tide you over until you can pick up your prescription.” She turned back to my scans and started pointing at them. “Well, it appears as though everything is going to be fine. There are small cracks in two of your floating ribs. They’ll probably take three to six weeks to heal correctly. However, there are a few things you can do to help the process along.”

“Yeah, anything,” I interjected.

“Well, the first thing is to get plenty of rest. Which means no riding or physical labor at all. Move as minimally as possible.” Jensen shot me a sideways smirk, and I glared evilly at him. “Heat therapy is also known to help. Do you have a heating pad?” I shook my head.

“We’ll stop and pick one up,” Jensen said, resting his hand on my thigh briefly.

His mom nodded. “Good, good. Also, eating a well balanced diet can help.”

“Okay, yeah. I’ll do all of those things.”

“Good to hear. Now, I’m going to prescribe something for pain management. Vicodin and Oxycontin have the highest success rates for managing this level of pain,” she continued to explain.

“Aren’t …” I turned to look at Jensen before returning my eyes to Dr. Davis. “Aren’t they addictive?”

“They can be. If you’re not careful; but with the level of pain you’re experiencing you’d be best to consider them.”

“Okay,” I said quietly. After Dr. Davis gave me another shot of morphine and handed me my prescription for Oxycontin, Jensen assisted me down off the table and allowed me to use him to lean on as we made our way for the exit.

“So,” Dr. Davis said as she walked with Jensen and me to the front door. “Take the painkillers I prescribed no more than three times a day. Call if you need anything.”

I didn’t get a chance to agree, or even argue, for that matter, because Jensen jumped in. “I’ll make sure of it. Thanks again, Mom.”

“Yes, thank you, Dr. Davis.” It wasn’t until I went to shake her hand that I realized Jensen was holding mine again. In fact, the only time he released it was when I was having my x-rays done—I didn’t even realize he’d taken it again. It felt so natural.

After hitting the pharmacy to fill my prescription and pick up my new heating pad, Jensen and I headed back to the ranch. The morphine hit me harder than the first time, and I started slurring my speech when I was on the phone with Dad.

Jensen swept the phone from my hand. I let my head loll back on the seat as the trees outside whirred by. I couldn’t make out much of what they were saying other than a few select words.

“Blah blah blah, cracked ribs,” Jensen said. There was a short pause before he continued. “Blah blah, morphine, blah blah, prescription filled. Blah blah, needs to rest.”

I was instantly bored with what he was saying, but liked the way he looked as he spoke. The way his strong jaw moved. There was also the way his eyes lit up when he turned to look at me. I shifted in my seat until I was almost directly facing him—not an easy task while buckled. I did try to remedy that, but Jensen quickly hung up the phone and snapped his hand over mine to stop me from releasing my seat belt.

“That’s not a good idea, Landry.”

“Boo,” I pouted, jutting my bottom lip out. “You’re too safe.”

Jensen chuckled, his eyes sparkling as his smile reached them. Not literally—at least I hoped not.
Man, I’m so high.

“I guess that’s one of the reasons I’m still in one piece,” Jensen teased, pulling the truck to a stop outside the house. “Feeling better?”

“Mmm hmmm,” I hummed, my head falling to the left to look at him. Even through the haze the painkillers caused, I noticed that he was gorgeous. “Mmm, you’re pretty, huh?”

A short, loud laugh escaped him, and he opened his door before coming around to help me. “You’re high.” He slipped his arm around my waist, and I felt his hand brush against the skin of my lower back, igniting sparks in my belly that set my entire body on fire.

“But I don’t hurt, and tha’s gooood.” As soon as my feet hit the ground, I lost my balance and fell against Jensen’s solid frame. My hands started caressing his chest, and I wasn’t sure if it was the drugs, but I swear I felt his heartbeat quicken. “I think my feet are broke.” My voice was small as I looked up at him through my long eyelashes, my fingers tugging at the loose fabric of his shirt.

Jensen smiled before swooping down and lifting me into his arms carefully. My right hand rested on the back of his shoulder as he carried me bridal style. Meanwhile, my left moved against his strong chest, moving up his neck until they ran over his stubbly jaw. It had a mind of its own. I rested my head on his shoulder and pressed my face into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply.
God, he smells good.

“Thanks,” he whispered into the top of my head before—I think—his lips brushed my forehead. It was the second time he’d kissed me like that, which helped ease my embarrassment at having vocalized a private thought. Well, the drugs helped, too.

While I figured the kiss to be completely innocent, I couldn’t help but think that just maybe it meant more. My left hand slid from his jaw and rested on his chest over his heart, while the fingers of my right twisted and teased the short hairs at the nape of his neck. The butterflies I thought I had tamed—or doped up with pain meds—started fluttering wildly again, and I found myself becoming terribly … needy. “Do you want me to take you to bed?”

My body quivered as his words hit any consciousness I had left. “I … um …”

“Relax,” he crooned in my ear, his warm breath washing over my skin, and his soft lips grazing my ear lobe. “I have to get back to work, and you need to rest.”

Of course.
I found myself mildly disappointed that I had misinterpreted him, and my body fell slack in his arms. Jensen walked us through the house and laid me on my bed. He stood up straight and looked down at me nervously as I started to maneuver myself until I was comfortable.

“Ugh,” I grunted as my jeans dug in at all the wrong places.

“What is it?” he asked frantically, leaning close to me and feeling my forehead.

“I can’t sleep in jeans.” He instantly straightened up, his posture hard and rigid. “Can you help me?”

“Um …” He was unsure. It was kind of cute, but after the day I saw him naked and then stripped for him, not to mention waking up in such an intimate position, it was unnecessary.

“Please, I’m so uncomfortable. You’ve seen my panties before.” Jensen swallowed thickly before tentatively reaching for the button on my pants and slowly undoing them. I lifted my hips so he could gently work them down my legs. Through hazy eyes, I watched as he folded them and placed them on the end of my bed before grabbing the fleece blanket from the rocking chair in the corner and placing it over me.

“I’m going to go and grab you some water and the phone. I’ll leave my number on your night table so you can call if you need anything.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll call Daddy. You jus’ work. I’ll be okay …” I said groggily, my eyes heavy as sleep courted me.