Approaching the drawn privacy curtain, Alesha Phillips felt a sense of fear rise up in her stomach as she called out softly. "Matt?"
His reply was blessedly quick and sounded quite normal. "Alesha? Hi."
When Ronnie Brooks had mentioned to her that his partner, Matt Devlin, had been hurt while apprehending a suspect and, though he wanted to go to the A&E to check up on him, he had a load of paperwork, Alesha had volunteered to go in his stead.
Which was how she found herself drawing back the curtain that surrounded his little part of the casualty unit.
Matt was sitting on the side of the cot, wearing his dress trousers, but shirtless. A bruise ran across his torso, from his right pectoral down to the short ribs on his left side. There was an Ace bandage wrapped around his left wrist and hand and his face had scratches.
"Are you all right?" she blurted, unable to hold in the question, as he looked a wreck.
He tried to throw her one of his trademark dazzling smiles, but it seemed the action pulled on his cut cheeks. "It looks worse than it is," he assured her then nodded to the world beyond the curtain. "Just waiting on my discharge papers."
If they were letting them go so soon he must be all right. Still, the bruising looked terribly painful. "Ronnie said your suspect hit you with a pipe and you fell off the stairs into the topiary."
Looking embarrassed, Matt nodded and reached for his shirt, movements clearly telegraphing the amount of pain he was in, male bravado aside.
"Oh, let me," she offered, scooping up the pale blue button-down and noting the drops of blood on the collar and a few jagged rips. "The blood's dried. Shame really, it's a good color on you."
This time, when he smiled he kept it small so it's not too open any of the scratches. Gingerly, he slid his arms into the shirt and allowed her to pull it up onto his broad shoulders.
In order to get the shirt on him, she'd stepped in close, standing between his knees. Her hand still held the collar, as though to straighten it even as it hung open. It was an oddly intimate position and she felt a rush of affection, remembering how she feared the worst when Ronnie had told her what happened.
"Thanks, Alesha," Matt said softly and a slight blush on his cheeks made her smile. For all his good looks and charm, he had a sort of adorable awkwardness at times.
Not that she was any better at making a move….
Deciding to toss caution to the wind, she ducked her head and, before she could talk herself out of it, pressed a gentle kiss to the topmost part of the worst bruising, scant inches above his right nipple. The light spray of chest hair tickled her lips and she noted the inflamed warmth of the bruise.
Matt took a breath as her lips brushed his skin and she drew back, smiling softly at him. "Better now?" she asked, knowing her own cheeks are warm, and glad that, given her own complexion, it wouldn't be obvious.
"Much," he replied, wrapping a hand around hers.
Trying not to grin like a fool, she gathered him close, into a loose hug and that was how the doctor found them several minutes later.
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