Christian gave his daughter a stern glare. “Miranda, be careful. Uncle Houston is hurt, remember?”
“As if anyone could forget,” Houston said under his breath. With great care, he scooped Miranda up onto his lap. “I don’t want people treating me like glass. I’m exactly the same as I was before.”
Silence met this statement. Doubt hung in the air around them. Josie saw the frustration on Houston’s face, and ached to comfort him. Everyone studiously avoided looking at his injured hand.
Fortunately, unaware of the tension, Miranda broke the silence. Wiggling on Houston’s lap, she looked at Josie and tucked her wet hair behind her ear. The little girl pointed to Houston’s leg. “My Unca Ouston got bit. They had to sew up his leg.”
Houston bounced Miranda up and down on his right leg, making Josie a puddle of dripping emotion. He looked so damn sweet and she was so totally gone for him.
“She knows, squirt. She’s the one who sewed it up.”
“Really?” Miranda’s eyes went round, clearly impressed. “Was it gross?”
Josie laughed. “No. It’s my job.”
“You’re surrounded by doctors, Miranda,” Christian said, resting his elbow on his raised knee as he lounged on the sand next to his wife. “Sara is a doctor, too. Maybe some of their smarts will rub off on you.”
“I’m going to be a princess when I grow up,” Miranda said with totalconfidence.
“You can’t be a princess unless your father is a king, or your mother is a queen. You’d be better off going to college.”
Miranda was unconcerned. “Then I’ll marry a prince.”
This led to an argument between father and daughter. Josie listened in amusement as daughter appeared to be winning, listing the many benefits of being a princess.
Then Houston said without warning, “Josie, let’s go back to my place now, okay? '
All conversations ground to a halt. Three pairs of adult eyes swung towards them in interest.
“Uh, sure.” She stood up, suddenly realizing she was abandoning her friend. “Sara, you don’t mind, do you? I’ll be back in fifteen minutes or so.”
Of course, that was probably not the best way to phrase it.
Christian’s eyebrows shot up and he looked ready to laugh. “Is that all you need?”
Kori bit her lip and giggled, nudging her husband. Josie imagined her face was turning six shades of purple, which wasn’t a good color with her light brown hair.
“Take all the time you want,” Sara said with a shrug.
Houston scowled. “She’s going to take my stitches out.”
“Um-hmm.” Kori didn’t look convinced.
Josie just knew she looked guilty. She had seen Houston naked and they all knew. Right now they could probably tell that she was already having dirty thoughts, that just the idea of being alone with Houston had her body stirring to life like an oven turned on to preheat.
“Let’s go,” she said in what she hoped was a convincingly casual voice.
Houston stood up next to her, placing Miranda back in the chair. He pulled a T-shirt on over his head and patted the pocket of his shorts. His keys jingled. “I’m ready. Kori, tell Mom what I’m doing when she comes back.”
That brought a further snicker from the crowd.
“I don’t think she wants to knowthat,Houston,” Kori said.
“About the stitches,” he said through gritted teeth and turned around and walked off, leaving Josie to trail behind feeling something like a faithful dog. A Jack Russell terrier, that’s what she was. Short, compact, and easily trained.
And she was just waiting for him to throw her a bone, wasn’t she?
Chapter Thirty-Eight