It was a close contest.
She adjusted the angle of the seat.
Daniel tore off another bite of licorice. "Why the hell didn't you let me know you're in pain this week?"
"What did Kathleen Bennett tell you?"
"Nothing." And he didn't look too happy about it.
"But you asked her."
"Hell, yeah, I asked her. And she got her flight suit all in a twist over rules."
Three cheers for patient confidentiality. "Danny, I'm fine, and feeling better by the minute thanks to Kathleen. By tomorrow I'll be a hundred percent, and your chocolate will be safe from me."
"Funny. Not. Why the hell are you so sensitive over a flipping trip to the doctor?"
Boggy wind whipped between them while she searched for a simple answer that would bring the fewest questions. "I didn't want to draw any undue attention to myself that might tip off Kent."
For all the good that had done her. If that False Unicorn plant had been intentionally placed, which she firmly believed, Kent had known about her return within hours of her landing. She shuddered.
"There are a thousand ways around that and you know it. Not to mention we've been to the doctor, and you're still so flipping prickly on the subject you have cactus written all over you. Why?"
Because her mother's calendar carried nothing but doctor's appointments. Because she didn't want to be a burden to anyone. Because Kent had parked her in more doctor offices during three years than most people saw in a lifetime.
She pitched those thoughts out the window with the salty breeze. Hadn't she resolved only a few hours ago to reclaim her strength? She'd had enough morbidity for one day. Real worries would close in soon enough, and for now she just wanted to enjoy her time with Danny. "Like I said before, women have lived with this since the beginning of time, and the last thing we want is to discuss it with men who wince.
The big brave warrior threw back his shoulders. "I did not wince."
"Oh, really?" She jabbed him in the side with a teasing poke. "You wouldn't turn green over the mere mention of a shopping expedition for feminine hygiene products?"
She had to give him credit. He didn't turn green. However, he was giving pale a run for its money.
"Okay, maybe you have a point. But I think I could have handled buying you a bottle of Motrin or a request for Kathleen to give you a checkup after she finished with Trey. I'm a modern guy. What's the big deal?"
She snorted and snitched a piece of licorice from his hand. "Liar."
"Aw, now cut it out. Be fair. Like you wouldn't wince over shopping for … for—" he paused, then snapped his fingers "—for a jock strap."
A laugh bubbled. God she missed laughing with him.
"And just think of the poor sales clerk at the sporting store if you had to quiz him on what size you should buy."
"I remember your size just fine, Danny."
Had she said that?
His eyes widened, focused on crossing a low rail bridge with exaggerated care.
Oh, yeah. She sure had said it.
"Uh, thank you?"
"No problem." Well, actually it was starting to be a problem as need snapped along the air between them.
And they would be spending an indeterminate amount of time alone. No tiny chaperones. No secrets. And a teenage need that had matured into an adult hunger. Now all those memories swirled through the car, the medicine buzz not unlike the champagne buzz all those years ago that had led her to pitch her clothes off.
She sagged back against the headrest. With the lulling pass of each mossy oak, she fought the sensory overload draw of Daniel's smile and bay-rum-tinged hydraulic fluid riding the ocean breeze…