Read Frisco Joe's Fiancee Online

Authors: Tina Leonard

Frisco Joe's Fiancee (8 page)

She shot Laredo a questioning glance.

“The doc gave him a shot at his office. I think it went non-stop, direct flight to Frisco’s head,” Laredo explained.

“Something for the pain,” Tex clarified. “The X-ray showed a clean break in his leg, so that was easily addressed. We’re not too sure, but he might be a bit scrambled upstairs. He’s been behaving a bit oddly.”

“Oh?” Annabelle said, worried that maybe Frisco needed more medical attention than he’d got.

“Yeah, he keeps babbling about Emmie. And
you. And burned dinner,” Tex explained. “We think that’s all pretty extraordinary behavior for our brother.”

Tex shot him a warning look. “Not extraordinary that he’d be talking about you and Emmie, of course. Frisco’s just not the most talkative man on the planet,” Tex clarified, his tone a definite override to Laredo’s slip. “Doc Gonzalez would like Frisco to rest tonight and see if he’s still addled tomorrow. If he is, we’ll take him in for a CT scan. We’d take him now, but the hospital’s overrun with outpatient care from the flooding and hypothermia from the cold.”

“Actually, we’ve all been stupid at one time or another,” Laredo said with a shrug. “We always come out of it in a few hours.”

“Except the time Last got kicked in the head. Remember that? We thought he was going to time travel permanently.”

“That dummy. He shouldn’t have been at the business end of that bronc like that. I still say Last was just yanking our chains, the freaky little garden gnome. It never takes any of us very long to shake off a little bump or bruise.” Laredo rolled his eyes, his expression somewhat haunted, as if he didn’t quite believe his own denial of Last’s condition.

“How is the sandbagging going?” Annabelle interrupted, all the while keeping an eye on Frisco. He glanced at Emmie sleeping next to him, pulled the
blanket closer to her head and seemed satisfied with the adjustment.

“We’ll know tonight. We’re just going to keep laying sandbags and praying.” Tex nodded at his brother. “You gonna be all right with him?”

“We’ll be fine,” Annabelle assured him. “Grab some sandwiches on your way out.”

“Thanks, Annabelle. We don’t know what we would have done without you and the other Lonely Hearts ladies. They sure have been a big help in town.” Laredo tipped his hat to her. “If he gives you any trouble, smack him.”

“He’ll be fine.” She went to the door and watched them go down the stairs. “Be careful.”

The men raised their hands in parting. She went back inside the bedroom just in time to see Frisco scoot the baby nearly up under his arm.

“Come here, soft Emmie, and lower my blood pressure,” he crooned.

The baby never batted an eye at the adjustment, but Frisco had Annabelle blinking. She went to the side of the bed to stare down at him. “Do you want another pillow under your leg?”

“I’m fine. Thanks.”

“How do you feel?”

“Not as bad as when I got my leg caught in a chute at the rodeo, thanks. I’ll live.”

“Glad to hear it.”

He looked up at her. “Laredo did this to me.”

“You look capable of defending yourself.”

Frisco snorted. “He took a cheap shot at me.”

“Maybe you’re just feeling sorry for yourself? Pity-party psychosis brought on by the pain injection?”

“Maybe.” He closed his eyes before opening them to look at her steadfastly. “Come here and kiss me, Annabelle.”

Chapter Eight

Annabelle’s lips parted. Kiss Frisco? No way. Not while he was lying in a bed and medicated to the max. Kiss him? Never. Not while she was trying to get her life together. What a very bad idea.

She decided to ignore him.

“I’m sure a small kiss is all the medication I’d need, Anna-anna-bella-bella. Bella Anna.”

Her brows puckered. “Frisco, you obviously don’t handle medicine very well. Maybe I’ll have the doctor splint your mouth to match your leg.”

He squinted at her. “Just a quick one, to make my ouchy go away.”

She rolled her eyes at the big man, trussed up, helpless, with a baby under his arm, spouting nonsense. “Pathetic, Frisco. Really. You won’t want to remember this conversation in the morning.”

“I think you like me. Don’t you, Annabelle? Emmie sure does.”

“Emmie’s designs on you are not the same as
mine,” she said starchily. Sitting down in the rocker across from him, she pulled out a book. “I have to wash some things, so go to sleep.”

“I’ll only be helpless one day. I want my kiss now, while I’m half-anaesthetized.”

“What good does that do?” Her heart beat harder as she considered his silly pleading.

“It makes me brave enough to ask a woman I know I shouldn’t ask for anything. Under normal circumstances, that is.”

“So you’re saying that a quick, sisterly kiss is something we could both forget when the drugs wear off.” Her brow quirked.

“I don’t know. Do drugs work like alcohol?”

“Do you often kiss women while you’re alcohol-impaired just so you won’t have to remember your behavior?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve always had to be fairly responsible.” His brow furrowed. “Maybe that’s why I’m so tempted now.”

“Well, I’m not impaired. And I’d remember.” Likely, she’d never forget it. He was a very appealing man.

He brightened. “We could get you impaired. Maybe Doc Gonzalez could give you a shot, too.”

“Thanks, no,” she said hastily. “I had enough of those in the hospital having Emmie.”

“Oh. Well, then, I guess I’m just going to have to do without.” His expression turned sad.

“Yes, I think you are.”

“Maybe it’s better that way.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“I probably wouldn’t like kissing you.”

Now he was heading from pathetic to whiny manipulative. Two could play that game. “I
know
I wouldn’t like kissing you.”

“Betcha a hundred bucks you would,” he said confidently.

She laughed. “I don’t need a hundred bucks.”

He frowned. “I’ll bet you your hundred-dollar bill back that you’ll like kissing me.”

“Really, Frisco, you have nothing to prove, and I don’t need the money.”

“Why not? Emmie might need a new dress some day.”

“I’m financially able to take care of Emmie. Don’t worry about her. And I owed you for the bus ticket. Why don’t you go to sleep now? You have to be tired.”

“Strangely enough, I feel strung like a bad guitar string.”

Great. She had to baby-sit the only six-foot-four male who went hyper on pain medication. Heaven forbid he should fold like a tent the way most people would.

“I changed my mind,” Frisco said suddenly. “I don’t want you to kiss me.” The fog had left his mind for just a minute, long enough for him to know
he was making a royal ass of himself. She smelled good, like roses in his mother’s garden. Blond hair pushed back by a white headband fell smoothly in a gleaming curve to the edge of her chin. China-blue eyes, fringed by long black lashes, regarded him intently, stripping him of his bravado. She had full supple lips which were slicked with some kind of clear gloss, lips which Frisco thought would be fabulous for kissing and soothing other parts of his body, as well.

He stopped those thoughts in a hurry. Miss Annabelle and her dainty dress were a nightmare to a man who should want nothing more than to get her the hell out of his bedroom in a hurry. She was testing the limit of his strength—and worse, she’d made it clear she wanted no part of him. Had he really thought she would?

“I’d like a blanket, please. There’s one in the bottom of that dresser.” Emmie could probably use a blanket, too. All she had was her baby blanket over her, and he didn’t want her catching a chill.

Annabelle got up, walked to the dresser, bent down to open the drawer. The white eyelet dress slid up a good three inches, revealing strong white legs, despite her quick tug at the hem to keep it in place. A sudden nurse fantasy ran all over him, making him hotter than a branding iron in a fire. But this was Annabelle. He couldn’t indulge in a nurse fantasy about her!

Closing the drawer, she turned, the cotton blanket in her hands.

Too late.

“Oh, my,” she said.

He groaned, unable to hide the erection making a tent of the sheet.

The front door slammed downstairs. Boots sounded on the stairwell.

Annabelle’s gaze met Frisco’s, then flew to his predicament. In a reflex action that caught him completely off-guard, she flung the folded blanket across the five-foot distance between them.

The heavy cotton landed on his lap with a thud, whooshing the air out of him and flattening whatever pride he had left.

“Annabelle, here’s a bottle of painkillers Doc Gonzalez thought Frisco might need,” Laredo said, stepping into the room, talking quietly until he saw that Frisco was awake and the baby was still asleep. “Dang, it’s hotter than hopping toads on summer cement in here, Frisco. Whaddya need a blanket for? Should I get you a fan?”

“No,” Frisco said between clenched teeth, his ears ringing.

“Perhaps he needs a pain pill rather than a blanket,” Laredo told Annabelle. “The doc said the shot wouldn’t last more than four hours or six, maybe. But Frisco’s so darn big, maybe it already wore off.”

“We’ll give him a while longer. Thanks.”

She smiled demurely at Laredo, and he smiled back, clearly taking a second look at the delicate woman. Frisco allowed his head to fall back against the pillow as he closed his eyes. Laredo’s boots thumped down the stairs, and the front door slammed.

“You did that on purpose,” he complained.

“Should I have left you sticking up? Seemed awkward to me.” Annabelle jerked open the bedside drawer to toss the bottle of painkillers inside.

“I would have thought of something. It wasn’t necessary for you to…crush me.”

“I suppose thanking me for saving you from humiliation would be too much to ask for.”

“I’d rather be slightly embarrassed than—”

“Oh, hush. You’d argue with the devil himself.” Annabelle glanced in the drawer. “If I give you a pain pill, do you think you’d O.D.? I don’t want that on my conscience, but I would love for you to go to sleep. How are you feeling in general?”

“I think the stars have faded from my vision. I’m only seeing black dots now.”

“Fine.” She started to slam the drawer shut, but something caught her attention.

Frisco’s breath caught in his throat. Surely she wouldn’t say anything about his stash.

“Is this what the well-dressed man wears nowadays?” She held up a condom in a bright package.
“Striped with fluorescent colors,” she read. “And this one says it has stars and an interesting device on the tip for maximum pleasure.”

He’d take back the part about preferring humiliation to pain.

“I had no idea these things came in any other style besides plain old, plain old.”

“Now you know.” He wasn’t going to say anything more than that. He wanted her out of his drawer. “Would you quit rummaging around in there?”

She closed the drawer. “Sorry. But a guy who dresses to impress shouldn’t be upset if a gal looks at the suits.” Rising, she straightened the blanket briskly. “Did you really want this, or did you just need camouflage?”

“I’ll keep the camouflage.”

“I think that’s best.” She settled into the rocker across the room. “Go to sleep. Please.”

“You sit there and be quiet, and maybe I can.”

Shrugging, she opened a book, placing it in her lap as she curled up in the rocker. The dress slid to her knees and Frisco closed his eyes, shutting out the alluring picture she made.

If Laredo had ever wanted to punish Frisco for anything he’d ever done to his younger brother, he’d picked an excellent method.

Torture.

 

A
NNABELLE RECOGNIZED
at once that taking care of a newborn was a piece of cake compared to a male who was used to independence and overriding everything in his path.

Gently, she moved Emmie to a pallet on the floor, covertly studying the big man who was just as studiously ignoring her. His eyes were closed so she couldn’t see the dark-brown irises. Ebony brows complemented black hair which lay unruly against the pillow. He still had an obvious dilemma, which fascinated Annabelle. Surely it should have deflated by now? She thought about Tom and frowned. His hadn’t lasted so long. Nor had it been so…

“What are you reading?”

She started a little at the brusque question and hoped he hadn’t seen her staring at the blanket. “A romance.”

“Isn’t that a little racy for a new mom?”

“Happy endings are good for me.”

He was silent, looking at her with those dark eyes. Annabelle went back to staring at a page. She did feel a bit isolated now that she was a single mother. Her relationship with Tom had left her wondering if there was any kindling left to start a fire with if she ever met a man she might like. Tom had sucked a lot of the heat from her life.

She certainly hadn’t felt with Tom the way she did right now. Frisco’s laser-like focus on her made her feel as if she might burst into flames any second.
It was best to quit pretending he didn’t affect her—she was pretty sure he’d figure out her secret soon if she wasn’t careful.

“Since you’re not going to fall asleep, I’m going to go downstairs and do some things. Call me if you need me.”

He was silent.

“Frisco, I’m just not interested in testing the water with anyone.”

“I know. I’m not, either.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why I wanted to kiss you. I’m sorry.”

“I was tempted, you know.” It wasn’t necessary to beat his ego to smithereens.

“If that was tempted, you made Eve look bad.”

She smiled at him. “If things were different, if I didn’t have a newborn, I might be up for a quick kiss with a man I barely know.”

“I lost my mind for a minute, Annabelle. It won’t happen again. I sure didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

She smiled slightly. “Your leg’s broken. It levels the playing field quite a bit. I can resist from five feet away.”

“I wouldn’t want you unless you wanted me.”

“Okay.”

“Do you?”

She laughed. “No,” she told him, aware that the hopeful expression on his face was due to the pain
killers scrambling his brain. Frisco and drugs were not a successful mix.

“Damn.”

“I could get Laredo to find you another nurse. There’re other Lonely Hearts ladies here.”

“No, thanks,” he said hurriedly. “I like you. But not in
that way,
of course.”

“Of course. Go to sleep.”

She left the room, her heart practically pounding in her ears. Too much man, too much temptation for her damaged ego to resist. Tom had never wanted her that way. Being the focus of Frisco’s intoxicated interest was way more flattering—and sensual—than anything she’d ever known.

It would be so nice to give in. He probably wouldn’t have remembered it tomorrow. Just a kiss. What would it have hurt?

Everything, of course. Because sometimes kissing was the start of something bigger.

And that was a risk she simply couldn’t take.

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