4

Okay, the dance with Ranger, the fight with Joe, all that was pretty clear in my mind. I lay there in Ranger's bed trying to feel bad about Joe, but my wrist was stiff and hurt when I tried to bend it, and my ankle felt swollen and sore, too. And Ranger's poor nose. I just couldn't dredge up any compassion for Joe after what he'd done and said.

Ranger rolled my way, reaching out for me, and I clamped both hands over my mouth. "Need to brush my teeth," I mumbled through my fingers. "But I can't move."

He put a hand to his head, feeling the Santa hat, and quickly yanked it off, muttering, "Shit."

I grinned behind my hands. Batman drunk and out of control. Wish I could remember more of what happened.

He rolled away from me and sat up on the edge of the bed. I watched the rippling muscles in his back, and all of a sudden my dry mouth was filled with saliva. His body was amazing, incredible, edible. I just wanted to lick it all over.

After a minute he stood, giving me an excellent view of those perfect glutes. Man, would I ever like to sink my teeth into those! I could feel the dampness growing between my legs as he walked away from me, gorgeous muscles flexing, and into his dressing room.

A moment later he emerged wearing his silk boxers low on his hips and carrying a t-shirt in his hand. I stared at the trail of hair that began at his navel and led down to paradise. Finally dragging my gaze up his chest, pausing for a full view of well-developed pecs with small, dark nipples that just begged my lips to nuzzle them, my eyes reached his face. A slight smile was playing on his beautiful lips, and…

"Omigod, Ranger, your nose…"

I had a vague memory of telling him at the party last night that he should put some ice on his nose and him responding, "Real men don't need ice."

Idiot.

But now he brought a hand up and touched it, wincing. "I'll get some ice," he said. "How's your wrist? Do you need some, too?"

I brought my hands out from under the covers, being careful to keep the sheet well up under my arms, covering my breasts. But he was staring at the spot the sheet ended, his eyes darkening as I watched.

"Ahem," I said, holding out my wrist, which had turned a rainbow of spectacular colors, red, green, blue, black. "Yes, please, and I think some for my ankle, too."

"Let's see it," he said, coming around to my side of the bed, taking my hand and pressing his lips to my palm.

I stuck just my foot off the side of the bed, and he sat down on the edge, taking my ankle in his hands, running gentle fingers over it and flexing it carefully.

"I think it's sprained," he said. "We'll put some ice on it, and I'll call Bobby later to come up and wrap it."

He slid a hand along my leg where it disappeared under the covers, up my calf to my knee, making small circles with his index finger. As he started up my thigh I quickly pulled back, saying, "Hold it right there, pal. Ice, remember?"

He gave me a wolf grin, but rose, handed me the t-shirt, and headed for the kitchen.

I pulled on the t-shirt and took advantage of his momentary absence to run into the bathroom. Only it turned out I couldn't run anywhere, couldn't even walk. My ankle had swollen overnight and hurt much more this morning than it had last night. But I managed to get to the bathroom by half hopping, half hobbling, my head pounding with every jolt.

After taking care of nature, cleaning last night's makeup off my face, and brushing my teeth with a new toothbrush I found on the vanity, I still felt like doggie doo. I needed the cure and a whole bunch more sleep before I could face the day.

Oh, crap! It's Christmas! I needed to get over to my parents' by mid-afternoon for presents and then dinner. Well, I still had time to get a few hours' sleep first.

I opened the door and started my hop-skip back toward the bed when I was scooped up into Ranger's arms. Another memory from last night came back to me, him carrying me out of the Elks' Lodge to the car, his lips on my hair, my neck, my face, sliding me into the backseat and climbing in next to me, kissing me passionately with lots of tongue.

He was gentle when he deposited me onto the bed, dropping a kiss on my forehead and handing me a bottle of aspirin and a bottle of water from the bedside table. I gratefully swallowed three of the tablets and gulped half the water, then lay back on the pillows.

He climbed in next to me and placed an icepack on my ankle and another on my wrist, his hands careful, tenderness and anger mingling in his expression. Pulling the sheet up over us and laying on his back, he pulled me tight against his side with one arm and brought a third icepack up to cover his nose.

"Go back to sleep for a while, Babe." And he closed his eyes.

TBC