“More than you know, man,” he says with a fond shake of his head. “God save whatever man she winds up sinking her claws into. He’ll have to be a fucking trooper to survive her bullshit.”
Maybe not so sweet, then. She sounds like just my type.
The edge of the chicken wire I was leaning against slices the hell out of my forearm, and I yank away from it with a muttered curse. Blood pools at the edge of the cut and quickly drips downto my wrist. I grimace and lift my arm up, trying to keep the blood from dripping all over my clothes.Fuck, that hurts.
That’s what I get for slipping into daydreams about my coworker’s sister.
Bo turns back to face me when he hears my complaints, and his face goes pale with worry. He drops the staple gun haphazardly into the grass and rushes to my side.
“Shit, Ben!” Bo shouts. “Fuck, that looks bad. Dad!”
“Dude, no, I’m fine,” I protest, grabbing onto Bo’s shoulder with my good hand. “It’s not as bad as it looks. Some super glue and gauze and I’ll be fine.”
The last thing I want is to look like an idiot in front of David. He’s probably dealt with way worse, and I can’t be acting like some pansy when I’m the new guy here. I can just stem the bleeding for now and maybe sneak off to an urgent care after work.
Besides, if David knows about this, there’s a good chance he’ll have to look over my paperwork. I’ve managed to not have him question my identity yet, but Pa would be pissed if I got hurtandgave David a reason to call and bitch him out all in one day.
“What’s going on over here?” David says, sounding annoyed at being bothered.
I turn to tell him everything’s fine, but his eyes narrow in on my arm immediately. He doesn’t panic like Bo did, but his eyes narrow as he takes in the ragged edges of the gash.
“You need stitches, son,” he says.
His tone doesn’t leave room for argument, but I’d really rather not go through all the trouble. “Sir, really, I’m fine. I’ll glue it shut and keep it bandaged. It’s not that bad. I’ll go get it stitched after work, promise.”
“You’ll go to the clinic and get it cleaned and sutured right now, is what you’ll do,” he says, his tone hardening even further as he pins me in place with his gaze. “There’s a doc not far fromhere, we’ve got an account with her. Go get that sewn up, and I don’t want to see you working again today. I won’t have you getting yourself hurt on my watch, Ben.”
I want to insist that it’s no big deal, but David pulls out his phone and texts me an address before I can say anything.
“Get that bandaged and go to the doctor. I’ll be calling her to make sure you went, you understand? I have to cover my own ass here.”
I can’t help the small grin that plays on my face. He and my father really are a lot alike. I can see why they’re friends. Or, well, I can see why my dad wants to be friends with David. They’d be two peas in a pod.
“Yes, sir.”
I climb out of the pasture Bo and I were reinforcing without any further argument. It doesn’t take me long to rinse off the worst of the blood and wrap a thick layer of gauze around my arm to quell the bleeding. Hopefully, it’ll hold up until I get to the clinic. It’s a deep cut, but I’m pretty sure it missed all the important stuff, and the bleeding has slowed, even if it hasn’t completely stopped. It hurts like abitch, stinging and sharp, but nothing tingles or feels numb, so I can’t have lost too much blood.
Things like this usually look worse than they are, anyway.
The address David sent me isn’t too far, so I don’t take the time to properly clean it up past dabbing the sluggish drip of blood away.
I’ll have to be more careful, both physically and mentally. I can’t afford to be getting hurt while I’m here, especially if David is planning to check with the doctor about my medical status to clear me for work. He hasn’t asked any questions about my dad or where I live in Texas, but I have no doubt that my last name would raise all kinds of alarm bells in his head. And really, I’m not doing anythingbadhere, but David doesn’t strike me as thekind of guy to be cool with having someone check over his work without telling him. I don’t know why Pa doesn’t just call him and talk this all through, but he’s a stubborn old man, too.
Like I said, peas in a pod.
It doesn’t take me long to get to the clinic, and I park in the front lot, wincing at how much blood has soaked into the gauze around my arm. Maybe I sliced deeper than I thought.
Hopefully, this will be quick, and I can go back to work without too much trouble.
The clinic is small, all bright lights and squeaky clean tile. The scent of antiseptic hangs in the air, but it can’t hide the wear on the lobby. This place is obviously well loved by the locals. I can damn near feel the community wrapped around here, obvious in the photos and drawings hanging from the walls, ranging from black and white postcards fading at the corners to newspaper clippings to thank you cards from entire families. It’s cute.
Cuter, though, is the lithe little blonde behind the front desk.
Bo mentioned she was working, but I didn’t expect to run into herhere.
Looks like I’m not getting away from David’s daughter—Magnolia, my brain so helpfully reminds me—no matter how hard I try to keep my distance.
I look her over as I stroll up the desk because if the universe is going to torture me like this, I’m at least going to feast on the eye candy provided. She’s got her feet up on the desk, shiny, unscuffed boots with almost no wear on the tread crossed over each other at the ankle. Her legs seem miles long even though I know I’ve got a good foot on her in height, and they’re draped in skin-tight light wash jeans that I have a savage urge to tear right off her. Her bright pink tanktop dips low over her chest, baring the tempting swell of her breasts to my hungry gaze. I want to leave marks all down her throat and over the sharp jut ofher collarbones, make sure everyone knows I made her fall apart beneath me.
