Marrying Dr Maverick

She wrinkled her nose at him. “As the day went on yesterday, I got more sore. Last night I couldn’t get to sleep. It must have been about 4 a.m. when I finally did, and I guess I was in a deep sleep until you knocked. You should have called to warn me you were coming.”

“You need a warning?”

She shrugged. “A girl doesn’t like to be caught with her hair all messed up.” She flipped a hank of it over her shoulder.

He laughed. “You look—”

She held her hand up to stop him. “Do not say fine. No woman wants to hear she looks fine.”

“Then how about you look morning-fresh and pretty.”

She’d been about to take a bite of the donut but she stopped and her eyes widened.

“What? You don’t believe me?”

“I have sisters who look beautiful in the morning. They don’t even get sheet wrinkles on their faces.”

“You don’t have any sheet wrinkles. Or any wrinkles at all.”

Her skin was so creamy, he wanted to reach out and touch it. That was the problem. “You do have a few freckles, though. But I like those, too.”

She blinked.

He could see he’d definitely surprised her, maybe even embarrassed her a little. He popped the lid off the coffee. “Sugar and cream, just like you like it.” As he handed it to her, he asked, “So how sore are you this morning?”

“Just a little, really. I think some of it’s from the seat belt.”

That made sense.

“Do you feel like looking at a property I found? If you don’t, we can do it another time.”

“No, I want to go.” She was about to lay down her donut, when he said, “Take your time. I told the real-estate agent I’d buzz her when we were on our way.”

Jazzy suddenly got a determined look on her face, and Brooks knew he was probably in for trouble. She pointed her donut at him. “Just because you’re tall and strong and seem to know what you want in life, doesn’t mean you can look at me as...fragile.”

Now where had that come from? Honest to goodness, he just didn’t understand women. “I don’t.”

She pointed her donut at him again. “You do. Maybe it’s because you take care of animals, but you have some kind of protective streak. It’s the same streak that argued with me about help with changing your tire, and being out in the rain and thinking I had to rest today. You were in the accident, too. You’re not resting.”

“I didn’t bump my shoulder.”

She lifted a finger and stroked the air. “Okay, point taken. Still, I’m not some damsel in distress. Got it?”

She was sitting there cross-legged on the bed—with mussed hair and a just-awakened look. Baser urges nudged him to move closer, to climb into bed with her...

As if he needed more proof she wasn’t fragile, she said, “And I iced my shoulder yesterday like you told me to. I can take good care of myself.”

Whether she could or couldn’t remained to be seen, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. After all, she’d left her home and her family and her job to come to Rust Creek Falls to help.

“You’ve been fighting having somebody look after you all your life, haven’t you?” he asked perceptively.

She finished the rest of the donut and wiped her fingers on a napkin. “With a family as big as mine, it can’t be helped. Everyone thinks they know best for everyone else. We do take care of each other, but sometimes it just gets very smothering.” She licked one finger then picked up her coffee, took a couple of sips, then asked, “Do I have time for a quick shower? I can be ready in ten minutes.”