The suture needle punctured her flesh—holy shit, so much for the ice numbing her skin—and locked up her lungs. Determined not to whimper like a wuss, she clenched her jaw so hard it was a wonder her molars didn’t crack. She swallowed hard, forced in a breath, and squeezed Jackson’s hand with all of her strength.
“You did that on purpose.”
An unrepentant smile curved his full lips ever so slightly. “You needed a distraction.”
Yeah, she did, but she wasn’t prepared to admit it.
To Pinto’s credit, he worked quickly and efficiently, stitching the wound in a lot less time than she’d expected. Still, she felt every pierce of the needle, every slide of the thread through her skin. When he finished, he applied a thin layer of antibiotic ointment and taped a bandage over the wound.
“Good job. You’re a real trooper. I wish I had something stronger than Tylenol to give you.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.” That was a big fat lie. She’d give her eyeteeth for some quality painkillers. But that wasn’t going to happen, and there wasn’t any point in acting like a diva about it. Besides, pain was a temporary inconvenience. She’d made it through much worse scrapes than this and had lived to tell the tale.
Pinto didn’t seem convinced but thankfully didn’t push the issue. He closed the suture case and slid it into his bag. “Try not to get these wet for at least forty-eight hours. They’ll need to come out in a week or so. Jackson’ll give you my number. Just call me when you’re ready and I’ll come take care of it. And if you see any signs of infection—swelling, redness, tenderness—go straight to an urgent care facility and they’ll hook you up with some antibiotics.”
Digging deep, she offered a smile. “Thanks again. I appreciate your help.”
“Hey, no problem. It’s what I get the big bucks for.” His gaze swung to Jackson. “Let me know when you’re doing the next Bad Movie Night.”
“Will do. It’s your turn to pick the movies, ain’t it?”
“Yep.” Pinto grinned. “I’ve already selected the lineup.”
“It better not be any more of thoseLeprechaunmovies,” Navarre said from his spot by the window. He’d gotten so quiet since the suturing began she’d forgotten that he was there.
Jackson’s jaw dropped open. “Wait, you mean there’s more?”
Pinto laughed as he packed the rest of his supplies back into his medical bag. “Oh yeah, you didn’t know? I think they’re up to eight by now. We only made it through the first three. Just wait until you get a load ofLeprechaun in the Hood.”
“Leprechaun in the—” Jackson scoffed and waved him off. “Now I know you’re just fucking with me.”
“Afraid not, my friend.” Pinto’s grin widened, exposing a dimple in his cheek. “There’s even aLeprechaun: Back 2 tha Hood. I guarantee you’re going to love it.”
Navarre rolled his eyes. “You expect us to trust your judgment afterAttack of the Killer Donuts?”
Essie laughed, and then winced. “Is that really a thing?”
“Yep,” Jackson said. “I think they made it on a budget of twenty bucks and a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Trust me when I say you’re better off not having that movie pollute your brain.”
“Eh, I suffered throughHuman Centipede. It can’t be any worse than that.”
Pinto gaped at her. “You made it all the way through that abomination?”
She shrugged, and winced again. She really needed to stop moving unless it was absolutely necessary. “My flight got canceled. I was stuck overnight in an airport hotel. There wasn’t much else to do, and it was one of the few channels that aired movies in English.”
Frankfurt, or had it been Lisbon? She honestly couldn’t remember. After a while, the cities and airports blurred together, especially when you were only there for a matter of hours.
Truth be told, she and Jackson had spent many a night wrapped around each other in hotel rooms around the world. After making love, they’d watched bad movies, because it didn’t matter if they stopped watching partway through, which was usually the case.
Pinto pointed to Essie. “She needs to come to our next movie night.”
Jackson’s gaze met hers, and the heat in his eyes did things to her that she’d rather not examine too closely. For now, she’d blame it on the vodka.
“Yeah, she sure does. What do you say?”
She hated being put on the spot, but at the moment she was feeling too fuzzy from the alcohol to get ticked off about it. “We’ll talk about it later.”
A smile spread over Jackson’s face that she felt all the way to her toes. He clapped a hand on Pinto’s shoulder and walked with him to the door. They spoke for a few minutes, heads tilted toward each other and voices lowered, and then Pinto gave a sharp nod and exited the house.
