Falling for the Groomsman by Diane Alberts Page A

exactly?”
    “Apologizing,” she spat, her eyes slits. “You’re freaking apologizing to me again. What’s next? Are you going to run away with your pants off again?”
    He stiffened. “Hell no. I hurt your back, so I said sorry . I’m not fucking apologizing for the sex. Now sit your ass down so I can fix it,” Tyler said before heading away from her.
    He couldn’t even look at her. She was bleeding because of him. He should have thought of that before he’d taken her up against a tree, damn it. Should have thought of her . Tyler headed for the backpack, cursing his stupidity over and over again. He should have known fucking her against a tree wouldn’t be the best of ideas. But Jesus, there hadn’t been much thought involved in it at all. One second they were arguing, and the next she’d asked him to kiss her.
    So he had.
    He never lost control like that. Never forgot about everything but the pleasure. Except with her . He’d lost control with Christine all those years ago, and it had scared the shit out of him. Now? It had happened again. After grabbing the first aid kit, he took a deep breath. He faced her again, his eyes scanning her for signs of pain. But she didn’t look as if she was in pain. She looked pissed.
    “Stop looking at me like that,” she snapped. She picked up her shirt and started to turn it the right way out. “I’m not broken or hurt or weak. I’m fine.”
    “I never said you were.” He yanked the shirt out of her hand before she could put it on. “But I need to clean those wounds so they don’t get infected.”
    “Oh my God.” She threw her hands up. “It’s a sex injury. You don’t have to go all Dr. McDreamy on me, for the love of God.”
    His lips quirked. “You can call me that while I fuck you if you want,” he said, his voice heavy despite his amusement. “But we’re not moving on until I treat you.”
    She crossed her arms. “Maybe I should call you Dr. McStubborn. Or Dr. McAss.” She pressed her lips together. “Or Dr. McCo—”
    He rubbed his jaw. “I think I get the point. I’m a stubborn ass. Now let me look at your back.”
    “Yeah? Well…” She lifted her chin. “I’m refusing treatment.”
    He stiffened. “I’m refusing your refusal.”
    “I’m refusing your refusal of my refusal.”
    “I’m refusing—” He broke off and shook his head, looking up at the sky. “You know what? We’re wasting time. Sit down .”
    “No.” She stomped away, bending down and picking up his shirt as she passed it. She spun on him but didn’t stop walking. “I’m fine and I don’t need you fawning—” Her eyes went wide, and next thing he knew she was gone.
    Just…gone.
    He sprang into action, bolting toward where she’d just been. He skidded to a halt and looked down the hill. She lay at the bottom of it, not moving. “ Fuck .”
    He made his way down the hill, the branches scratching him as he hurried by. One smacked him right underneath his eye, stinging like a motherfucker, but he ignored it. He made it down the steep hill within ten seconds, and dropped to his knees at her side. “Are you okay?”
    She shook her head, her eyes on the sky. “No. I’m not okay, Dr. McAss.”
    He ignored the insult. “Shit. Let me see.” He brushed her hair off her face gently and leaned in, examining her pupils. For once, her blue eyes didn’t distract him. “Did you hit your head?”
    “No.”
    He ran his hands over her arms. “Can you move your toes and fingers?”
    Her lips twitched. Oh, hell. Was she about to cry? He couldn’t handle her tears. Never could. “Yes, I-I think so.”
    “Good, then we don’t have to worry about concussions or paralysis.” He swallowed hard, his heart hammering in his ears. “I’m going to check you for injuries. I promise to be gentle so I don’t—”
    “I-I—”
    Oh no. She was going to cry. He wrapped his arms around her, his heart thudding in his ears. “Shh. I’m here. Don’t cry. Please. I can’t