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She signaled for him to remove his shirt. She set the kit down on the desk and opened it. She took out the prepackaged gauze and antiseptic ointment.
Turning back to him, she saw he would need assistance in taking the shirt off.
“I’ll do it,” she murmured. Roxxy stood before him and brushed his hand out of the way. She reached up and began undoing the buttons. Had this been any other day and Myles wasn’t bleeding, she would turn this into a playful strip tease.
“South Carolina. License plate number is TGB 84T.”
Roxxy got to the bottom and had to pull his shirt from out of his waistband. Her gaze landed on the bulge in his pants then flew up and met Myles’s.
He shrugged his good shoulder.
She rolled her eyes and helped take the shirt off him as gently as she could. He grimaced when he had to lift the arm that was hit by the bullet.
“Reported stolen three days ago.” Myles paused, apparently listening to the person on the other end of the line. “All right. Hit me back when you got something. Thanks, man.” He disconnected the call and placed his phone on the desk.
“Nothing?” she asked.
“I figured the car would be stolen. Only idiots would use their car to do crimes.”
“I’m sure there are a few out there…” She trailed off.
“You wouldn’t even begin to imagine the stories I could tell.” He chuckled.
“Tell me some,” she encouraged. She had to find something to occupy her thoughts. Myles standing before her in a bright-white tank that highlighted his deep complexion and muscles had her libido running wild. She reached for a couple of the gauzes and ripped the protective paper cover open.
“When I first joined the department, there was a string of bank robberies. I was a beat cop fresh on the force.” He paused, grimacing as she poured some rubbing alcohol on the wound. “Jesus, you could have warned me.”
“You may not have let me had I told you.” She chuckled and blotted the wound with the clean gauze. “Don’t tell me this is too painful for you.”
“Just warn me.” He blinked a few times.
“Go the hospital,” she retorted. “Or how about, not get shot.”
“Anyway.” He blew out a deep breath. “We got the call of a robbery in progress. By the time my partner and I arrived at the bank, the bad guys had hopped into a Buick and sped off. It was the same car that had been spotted at two other bank robberies. We immediately began to give chase. The guys drove to a church and jumped out and took off on foot.”
“A church?” she questioned.
Myles released a hiss when she held a clean cloth to his wound. He was right. It had gone straight through him. It wasn’t large, but for some reason he’d bled like it had been. “Hold this in place,” she instructed.
Myles reached up with his good hand and held the dressing.
“Apparently, the idiots had borrowed their grandmother’s car to rob the banks and would drop her car off to her while she was worshipping.”
“What?” Roxxy barked a laugh. She took the tape that came in the kit and wrapped it around Myles’s biceps a few times to create a bandage. She tore the tape and patted it down to stay put. “There you go.”
“Thanks,” he murmured, his dark eyes locked with hers.
She placed the tape on the desk and rested her hands on his chest. He pulled her closer between his open legs.
“I don’t like knowing you’re hurt.” She pouted slightly.
It was the truth. Seeing him get shot replayed over in her mind repeatedly.
“I don’t like that someone was shooting at you.” He reached up and cupped her cheek.
She leaned into it, loving the feel of his warmth.
“You were there to protect me,” she whispered. She slid her hands up his chest so they made their way to his neck.
