“You’re right.” Robbie nodded slowly. “So should I pick up one paint-by-numbers or two when I go out?”

  Devyn didn’t answer for a moment, then she shook her head. “You’re impossible.”

  “I’ll get two and you can decide later,” Robbie said.

  She wanted to spend more time with Robbie, but she couldn’t imagine doing a craft project. Her body flushed when she thought of what she could imagine. After a beat, she cleared her throat and said, “I don’t think I’m in the right headspace for an art project. Even that kind of art.”

  “That’s fair.” Robbie finished off the last bite of her bagel and stood. “I’m going to the hardware store. But first I’m going to grab a hat so I don’t get skin cancer on the way.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Robbie didn’t look back as she headed to the cottage. If she had, she’d probably only do so to give Devyn a middle finger. Or one of her crushing smiles. The cottage door opened and closed behind Robbie, and Devyn sank back in her chair. She looked down at Angel, lying belly up in the sun.

  “You could get skin cancer, too, you know.” She glanced at the cottage door but looked away a moment later. “I can’t think about kissing her.” And yet, that’s exactly where her thoughts went.

  Chapter Eleven

  Installing a garbage disposal was easier, as it turned out, than slicing a bagel. Devyn had been gone most of the afternoon—Robbie hadn’t asked where she was going when she’d left—but she’d picked the worst moment to come home.

  Devyn walked into the kitchen, took one look at Robbie, and cussed. She set down her shopping bags and strode forward. “What the hell happened?”

  The sharp words and Devyn’s taut expression made Robbie’s knees feel even more weak. “The knife slipped.”

  Devyn reached for her hand, but Robbie turned before she could touch it. “Don’t.” She’d wrapped her hand in a white dish towel and it was a mess of red now.

  “Let me see. I need to know how bad it is.”

  “I don’t want to know.” Robbie leaned against the counter, her words sounding far away. The realization she was going to faint if she didn’t do something came at the same moment Devyn’s hand steadied her, bracing her at the elbow.

  “Sit down. Now.”

  She saw Devyn’s lips form the words, knew what she’d said, but also knew she hadn’t heard her. That was a bad sign. She followed the orders, thinking that Devyn telling her what to do, and taking care of her, was not how she wanted things to go. Not at all.

  Devyn guided her to the ground and she settled into a crouching position, her back against the kitchen cabinets. Her vision tunneled to the only thing in front of her. Devyn. Devyn’s hands were on her shoulders holding her in place.

  “Do you have any medical issues I need to know about?” Devyn raised her voice. “Robbie, answer me.”

  She managed to shake her head, but a wave of dizziness followed.

  “Are you on any medication?”

  “No.”

  “You sure about that? I will make you take a drug test if I think you’re lying.”

  Robbie grumbled. “My mom had an overdose when I was a kid. No drugs.”

  “I’m sorry about your mom.” Devyn’s voice softened. “Can you open your eyes and look at me?”

  She pushed her eyes open, forced a smile, and said, “Hey. How’s it going?”

  Devyn choked out a laugh. “You tell me. I come home to find blood everywhere, a bloody knife on the floor, and your ass fainting on me.”

  “Sorry about the mess.”

  Devyn murmured, “What am I going to do with you?” and then in a louder voice added, “I need you to sit all the way down. On your butt.”

  Robbie obliged, half falling onto her backside. She didn’t let go of her left hand. If she did, she knew the blood would start spurting again. “I’ve been told I have a nice butt.”

  “You do,” Devyn said evenly. “At the moment, however, I only care about your hand.”

  She’d been trying to lighten the mood and hadn’t expected Devyn to comment. The response only scrambled her brain more.

  “Your hand, Robbie.”

  Reluctantly she held out her hand. “Sorry about ruining your towel.”

  “Stop apologizing.” Devyn grasped Robbie’s left hand between the two of hers and then began unwrapping the towel. “Don’t pay attention to what I’m doing. Focus on breathing. You look like shit.”

  Robbie wanted to argue she couldn’t look that terrible considering Devyn had checked her out plenty in the last twenty-four hours, but the words didn’t come. She took a deep breath and exhaled, feeling her chin tremble as she did.

  “This is more blood than I’d expect. Do you have any bleeding issues?”

  Robbie made a sound she wasn’t proud of. Something between a whimper and whine.

  “I didn’t say you were dying. Any bleeding issues?”

  “No…I tried to wash the cut, but blood was squirting everywhere.”

  “Either you nicked a vessel or you’re not very good at applying pressure. I hate to say it, but you need this sutured.”

  Robbie’s stomach turned. “Let’s wrap it back up again and pretend it didn’t happen.” She tried pulling her hand back but Devyn’s grip on her wrist only tightened.

  “No.”

  “I think it will be fine when the bleeding stops.”

  “Robbie, look at me.”

  Robbie pushed her eyelids open. “I don’t want to go to the hospital.”

  “No one said you had to go to the hospital.” Devyn held her gaze. There was no harshness in her eyes now. The gentleness, though, was almost worse. “Remember how I’m a doctor? I happen to have everything I need here. Call me paranoid, but you never know when the zombie apocalypse is going to hit.”

  Robbie squinted at her. “Are you…Was that a joke?”

  Devyn smiled. “Maybe.”

  “I’m bleeding out and you’re joking about the zombie apocalypse?”

  “You’re not bleeding out. You’ve got a three-centimeter laceration on your middle finger. I think you cut off a little bit of the tip but the bleeding has mostly stopped. Look.”

  Robbie didn’t want to look, but Devyn insisted so she risked a glance. The towel was soaked in blood and her hand was a mess, but the flow from the cut had slowed to a trickle. She went to touch it and Devyn pushed her away.

  “Don’t touch. You’ll make it start gushing again.”

  “I wasn’t going to.”

  Devyn tipped her head. “You sure? Because I’m not.” She paused. “Unless you want me to drag you to the hospital, you’re going to have to do what I say. Which means no touching.”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you sure you want me to take care of this here?”

  Probably Devyn was bending some rules for her. Robbie dropped her shoulders. “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. I don’t have any lidocaine.”

  After another cursory inspection, Devyn went to get supplies. When she returned, Robbie only extended her hand.

  “At any point, you can change your mind,” Devyn said, clasping Robbie’s wrist and positioning the injured hand palm up on the back of her knee. “Remember to breathe. This is going to hurt.”

  Robbie focused on Devyn. Her gloved hands, deft despite the pain they inflicted, her scent, faintly sweet vanilla mixed with jasmine, and her look of studied concentration. When Devyn moved from cleaning the wound to suturing, Robbie had to close her eyes. The needle pierced her skin and she breathed through the pain that followed, keeping Devyn’s face in her mind. Dangerous, but effective.

  The seconds ticked by slowly, but then it was done and Devyn let go of her hand and cleared her throat. “You can open your eyes.”

  Robbie peeked at the stitches. “It looks good.”

  “You sound surprised.” Devyn swabbed away a bit of blood. “Maybe you should be. Most of the time I’m not the one suturing up wounds. Other people get all the fun.”

  “Sewing someone up is fun for you?”

  “I probably shouldn’t admit it.” A smile turned up the corners of her lips. “Don’t move. I still need to bandage you.”

  The bandaging didn’t hurt but Robbie closed her eyes again. She didn’t trust herself not to say something she’d regret with Devyn kneeling in front of her. When all was said and done, her hand was wrapped with the middle finger jutting out from the rest on a splint.

  “How’s that feel?” Devyn asked, tugging off her gloves.

  “Not bad.”

  “It’ll start pulsing soon.” Devyn went to one of the drawers in the kitchen island. She took out a bottle of Tylenol and tossed it to Robbie.

  Robbie caught it with her right hand and Devyn nodded. “Good. You’re ready to stand and take that.”

  “I should have gotten up earlier so you wouldn’t have to work on the ground.”

  “It was safer on the ground. Less chance of you cracking open your head if you fainted again.”

  Any chance of impressing Devyn was gone. She got up carefully, aware Devyn was watching. “By the way, I replaced the garbage disposal before I tried to hack off my middle finger.”

  “Thank you. And I saw you got some cock.”

  Robbie chuckled. “There is no good way to respond to that.”

  “No problem using my credit card?”

  “No. I’ve now successfully pretended to be you and your husband.”

  “Ex.” Devyn stiffened at Robbie’s slip.

  “Sorry.” Dammit. “Ex.”

  “I’ll let it slide this time.” She put her hand on Robbie’s arm. “You almost bled out on my kitchen floor.” Her hand slipped off Robbie’s arm as she said, “I was thinking of making dinner. How do you feel about shrimp scampi? It’s the only gourmet thing I know how to make.”

  “You don’t have to make me dinner.”

  “And you didn’t have to replace my garbage disposal. Are we going back to arguing now that you’re standing, or do you think we could come to a truce?”

  Robbie dropped her shoulders. “I’d like a truce.”

  “Me too.” Devyn’s chin dipped. “There’s chardonnay in the fridge. Pour us two glasses and then have a seat.” She gestured to the barstools on the other side of the kitchen counter. “I’m not letting you help tonight, so don’t even ask.”

  They polished off the open bottle of chardonnay and the dinner Devyn cooked over a discussion of politics. Not the conversation Robbie would have expected, but Devyn had started it, asking somewhat offhandedly if she voted. Then Devyn had pressed further, asking who she’d voted for in the last election.

  It came out that Devyn’s whole family was Republican and staunchly conservative. Devyn seemed relieved Robbie wasn’t—as if that would be harder to take than having a stranger move in unexpectedly. It also came out that Devyn was active in the local League of Women Voters and had considered running for office.

  Then, without any obvious segue, Devyn asked, “How old were you when you came out?”

  “Eighth grade. I probably shouldn’t have come out that early.” She shook her head. “Things did not go well.”

  “What happened?”

  Robbie exhaled. “I was living with my dad and his new family. My dad wasn’t really part of my life when I was little, but he showed up when I was in middle school. Anyway, one day he picked me up from school and he saw me holding hands with a girl. On the drive home, he asked if I was gay. I didn’t think to deny it.” She paused. “That same night he gave me a box to pack up my things. He said he didn’t want me around his kids. He had two other kids with his second wife and he thought…Well, I don’t know what he thought. I didn’t ask.”

  “He kicked you out?”

  Devyn’s dismay brought up a rush of old emotion. “It wasn’t that big of a deal. I’d lived with my uncle before, and I just moved back in with him.”

  “Robbie, getting kicked out by a parent is a huge deal. Especially after you’d lost your mom.” Devyn reached out to touch Robbie’s good hand. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” She swallowed, trying to block her response to Devyn’s touch.

  “No kid should be kicked out for that. For any reason.” Devyn pulled back her hand and looked over at Angel. “The more I know about people, the more I like dogs.”

  “Same. But not all people are assholes.”

  “Most seem to be.” Devyn shook her head. “Do you want kids someday?”

  “No. I’ve got nothing against kids, but I like my life the way it is. And my parents didn’t set a very good example. I’m sure I’d screw up any kid who came my way.”

  “I doubt that,” Devyn said.

  “Do you want kids?”

  “I thought I did. I changed my mind.” She seemed to hesitate and then added, “It turned out me not being able to have kids wasn’t the problem.”

  Robbie wondered what Devyn meant, but her face had clouded and she didn’t want to push the subject. Maybe Matt had wanted kids? She’d never thought to ask.

  “Since we’re asking random questions—”

  Devyn smiled. “I guess we are. What do you want to know?”

  “Did you always want to be a doctor?”

  “I wanted to be a firefighter when I was four.” She laughed. “Then my grandmother taught me how to sew. One afternoon we were sewing together and I told her I wanted to be a seamstress. She said, ‘Why not a doctor?’” She paused for a moment. “I never looked back.”

  “But you didn’t want to be a surgeon?”

  “Emergency medicine was a better fit. I could sew all day, but I love being there for someone right when they need me. And I love the rush.”

  Robbie held up her injured hand. “In that case, you’re welcome.”

  “Yes, thank you. Although I could have done without so much blood on the tile.”

  Robbie cringed. “I’ll clean it up.”

  “No, you won’t.” Devyn’s eyebrow arched as if daring Robbie to argue. “I don’t want that bandage getting wet. And, although you might not believe it, I know how to use some tools. Like a mop.”

  Robbie laughed, wondering even as she did at the coquettish look Devyn gave her. How was Devyn straight? It wasn’t fair.

  “Don’t believe me?”

  “No. It’s…Nothing.” She shook her head, knowing she needed to get the conversation back to something neutral. “So you like your job even with the long hours?”

  “It’s been hard lately, but I don’t usually work this much. One of our doctors is out on maternity leave. Speaking of.” Devyn leveled her gaze on Robbie. “Do you avoid doctors entirely or just hospitals?”

  The question was warranted given her earlier freak-out. “Just hospitals.” Even after months of counseling she’d made no headway in her hospital fears. She didn’t want to tell Devyn all the reasons for that, however. Bringing up her mom was always hard. Especially any conversation that involved the day she’d lost her.

  “Okay. I’ll let you off the hook as long as I know you don’t have an aversion to all doctors.”

  “Not all doctors.”

  Devyn tried to stifle a yawn but Robbie noticed. She would have happily spent the rest of the night talking but she said, “It’s getting late.”

  “Not for normal people,” Devyn returned. “Unfortunately, I have about ten years of missed sleep to catch up on.”

  Robbie stood and started clearing the plates but Devyn got up, too, and shooed her away from the sink. “Remember I don’t want that bandage getting wet. No shower for you tonight, either.”

  Robbie leaned against the counter, watching Devyn scrub the dishes. “I took a shower after my run. I can handle skipping tonight.” She looked down at the bandage. “I’m not sure about starting the tile job tomorrow, though.”

  “You might have to take the day off.”

  “Are you going to be around?” She felt sheepish asking. She wanted to spend the day with Devyn but had no right to expect Devyn would want to spend any more time with her.

  “I’m on call. There’s a slim chance I won’t have to go in.”

  “You’re on call all day?”

  “No rest for the weary. Or the wicked. Or anyone who works in a hospital.” Devyn finished cleaning the saucepan and set it on the rack to dry.

  “I’ll keep my fingers crossed you don’t get called in.” She quickly added, “For your sake. I’m sure you could use a break.”

  “Not because you want to keep me around in case you slice something else?”

  “I should probably avoid sharp objects for a while…I really wanted to start the tiling project tomorrow but I don’t know how I’d manage a tiling saw like this.” She held up her hand, her middle finger jutting up, and Devyn quirked her lip like she was trying not to laugh. “I’m pathetic. That’s what you’re thinking, right?”

  “No. Well, maybe a little.” Devyn smiled. “You could be a tourist for a day or two. There’s always the Aquarium. Or you might like checking out one of the art museums. I recommend the Timken but it doesn’t have any paint-by-numbers. You might be disappointed.”

  Robbie laughed. “That’s a low blow. And I’m injured.”

  “I know. You’re entirely defenseless. I kind of like you this way.”

  “Whatever.” She didn’t care how pathetic she was if it meant Devyn was openly flirting. Unfortunately, she was still straight. Plenty of straight women flirted and it meant nothing. She pushed on. “One day you’re going to try paint-by-numbers and love it.”