I pick up the script for Cooper, hand it to him, and then stride over to Palmer. Gently, I take her arm and guide her out the door. “Wait in the exam room. I’ll be right there.”
“I know what you’re doing, Cooper. I’m onto you,” Palmer says over her shoulder. “Watch your back, son.” I shut the door and take a deep breath.
Jesus, what did I get myself into?
I glance up to see Cooper standing there, script in hand, brows narrowed, not looking happy at all.
“You and my sister?” he asks.
“I found her out in the rain last night. She needed a place to stay. We’ve both had feelings for each other for a while, and we kissed.” The confession rushes out of me. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. Cooper and I are about the same size, but there’s just something about respecting the family of the person you’re interested in. He doesn’t need to know exactly what went on.
“Is that all you did?”
I clear my throat. “Um, there might have been some wandering hands, but that’s neither here nor there. What really matters is that my intentions are pure.”
Cooper steps up to me, inches away from my face, and I brace myself. “Good luck,” he says simply. “You’re going to need it.” And then he takes off.
Uhh . . .
What?
Good luck? No older-brother lecture?
No “don’t hurt my sister” threat?
That was not what I expected at all.
Leaning against my desk, I let out a deep, relieved sigh and wonder if that’s it, if that’s all the Chance-brother questioning I’m going to have to deal with. A part of me thinks I’m not that lucky, especially since the most protective brother still doesn’t know.
I make my way to the exam room and shut the door. Palmer is sitting on the table, one leg crossed over the other, looking very angry.
“So, care to explain to me why your new cast is muddy and wet?”
She points toward the door. “He’s up to something, Beau. I saw him with your sister.” She’s fidgety, excited, conspiratorial. Not the same girl from last night.
“With Larkin?” I ask, a stupid question since I only have one sister.
“Yes. At the sandwich shop. They were in there working together.”
“How do you know this?” I ask. “Were you spying on them?”
“Of course,” she answers, as if that was a dumb question.
“And this spying . . . did it lead to you needing another new cast?”
She glances down at her arm and then back up at me. “You know, a little support here.”
“I’m trying,” I answer. Because hell, I am trying. I’m trying to piece together what has gotten into her in the last half hour, since I left her with a parting kiss. “Just trying to get the whole story. So, you were spying . . . in the mud?”
“Of course not.” She rolls her eyes. “I was spying in the bushes. It’s why I have all these scratches, because I was battling relentless foliage. Actually, how is my forehead? One branch slapped me right between the eyes.”
I examine her face, trying not to be distracted by how beautiful she is, scratches and all. “It’s just a little red. Seems like a tough afternoon.” I attempt to hold back my chuckle, and the thought of Palmer squatting and hiding behind bushes to get closer to Larkin and Cooper and whatever they have going on. Knowing my sister, probably nothing of importance, but it’s cute seeing Palmer trying to “solve a crime.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I don’t need another bandage on my head.” She sighs. “Anyway, I lost my balance and fell backward into a puddle. It’s why I have a muddy ass again and why this cast is a mess.”
“You realize your wrist is going to have serious issues healing if we have to keep changing the cast? It needs time to heal.”
“It’s not like I meant to fall into a puddle. Granted, I’ve done it twice in the past twenty-four hours, but despite the glaring evidence, it’s not my favorite pastime. Just keep getting caught up in the wrong situation.”
“Both seem a little like your fault,” I say as I grab my cast saw.
“Excuse me?” she asks, her voice rising. “How are they my fault?”
I choose my words carefully. “Yesterday, you went for a walk, leaving you a victim to the inclement weather. And today, well, crawling around in bushes to spy on your brother doesn’t necessarily scream ‘taking care of my cast.’”