Her hand went to her temple. “Hurts.”
“Yeah, I’m not surprised. There’s a bruise forming. Mind if I do a little test?”
“For what?”
“I want to make sure you don’t have a concussion. You got bonked pretty hard.”
“Really? I don’t remember what happened.” The line between her eyebrows deepened. “I remember dancing. I came up to talk to you, didn’t I?”
He found a penlight in his bag and held it in front of her face.
“Can you follow the light?”
Her eyes tracked it just fine. Her pupils weren’t dilated, though her eyes were such a deep color he couldn’t be entirely sure.
“Let’s try some basic questions. Can you tell me your name?”
“Is that a pickup line? Because you already have me alone on a bed.”
He ignored that. She was in no shape for a hookup, though she didn’t seem to realize that.
“Do you know what year it is?”
With an irritated expression, she pushed his hand away and tried to sit up. “I’m fine. This is ridiculous. I need to get back to…” She fell quiet with a frown.
“Which brings me to my next question. Where do you live?”
“You’re very nosy.” A flush rose on her cheeks. “Where do you live? Is this your house? Did we go home together?” She glanced around the cabin and a look of horror came over her face. “You live here?”
“No, I don’t live here. It’s a fishing cabin. A rental. Listen, I’m starting to think you might have a bit of concussion. Your memory seems a little sketchy.”
“I remember that we were supposed to be flirting, not playing doctor.” She shrugged. “I guess that works too.”
This woman was TROUBLE with a capital everything.
He handed her the ice pack. “Why don’t you hold that against your head. It’ll help that bruise.”
She sniffed and took the pack from him. “I didn’t know that bassists carried ice packs.”
He laughed a little, admiring her spunk. She might be a little fuzzy, but she wasn’t intimidated by him. Which was interesting, because he knew that many people found his appearance, and especially his size, intimidating. Then again, some women found that to be his best quality.
“I’m not just a bassist. I’m a firefighter too. I’m mostly a firefighter, as a matter of fact. I just play bass on the side.”
“Oh. You’re really good.”
“You should see me put out a fire,” he said dryly.
“Kinda hoping I don’t get that opportunity,” she answered, echoing his tone.
“Right. Good point. So how do you feel other than the bruise? Anything else? It was a little crazy there for a minute.”
That blank expression came across her face again. “I just don’t remember.” He caught the beginnings of panic in her eyes.
“Never mind that. Focus on right now. Any other pain anywhere? Can you do a full-body scan of yourself?”
He waited patiently while she did so. He noticed that she had a few freckles on her nose and that her hands looked strong and capable and had a little dirt under the fingernails.
In the bar she’d said, “Kate Robinson to the rescue!” The name had rung a bell, but he hadn’t pursued it. Robinson. Wasn’t that the name of the crazy lawyer trying to evict him? Weird coincidence.
“What kind of work do you do?” he asked, just in case.
“What?” She blinked a few times, her long, dark lashes fanning up and down. “Why talk about work? Can’t we just flirt instead?”
He bit back a smile. “How’s that body scan going?”
“That kinda sounds like flirting, but not really.”
He adjusted the ice pack on her forehead. “Sorry, but we’re going to have to put the flirting on hold, Kate.”
She sighed deeply. “Of course we are. Nothing goes my way anymore. There’s a good chance I’m cursed.”
“Nah. If you were cursed, a firefighter wouldn’t have been right there when you got hurt.”
Her dark eyes scanned him. “Guess I got lucky. Without getting lucky.” She pulled the ice pack away from her face. “How does it look?”
“Bruised. But better.”
She yawned and turned her head gingerly from side to side. “I should get going.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” he told her firmly. He laid a hand on her shoulder, pressing her back down. She didn’t object, probably because she wasn’t stupid. “You’re staying here for the night and in the morning we’ll figure out what happens next.”
She nestled her head on the pillow and adjusted the ice pack. “Are you staying here too?”
“Yeah. I don’t feel right leaving you here when you can’t even say where you live.”
“It’s not a very easy question, that’s all. It’s complicated. There’s where I used to live, where I live now, and where I want to live.” Her eyelids drifted down.
He took out his phone and shot Maya a quick text.
Kate is conscious. No concussion, but a little confused.
Can she stay there for the night?
Of course.
I’ll leave her purse and jacket with the owner.
Ten-four.
“Okay, you’re all set,” he began in a cheerful tone, before he saw that Kate’s eyes were closed. He modulated his voice. “I’ll be in the chair if you need anything. See you in the morning.”
“Thanks, bassist.”
“Darius,” he reminded her.
“Hot Darius,” she murmured.
Okay then. He supposed he could live with that.
He watched as her eyes closed completely and sleep relaxed her face. Her hand fell away from her head and the ice pack rolled across the pillow.
Gently, he removed it and stowed it back in his bag.
He rose to his feet and stretched his arms over his head. The cabin ceiling was so low that his fingertips brushed against it. His hands were sore from his stint on the bass. He didn’t get enough practice these days. It was probably a good thing that this night hadn’t ended the way he’d originally hoped it would.
He glanced again at the sleeping woman on the bed. She’d rolled over onto her side and was now lightly snoring.
He settled into the chair, which was designed for someone a foot shorter than him. Ah what the hell. He’d slept in more uncomfortable quarters than this.
He took out his phone and texted Maya one more time.
Make it back to Lost Harbor yet?
Why? My own father doesn’t ask me that.
Really? Harris asks me that.
He and Harris Badger jammed together sometimes back in Lost Harbor. When things went late, Harris had a habit of checking in on his drive home.
He probably likes you better because you play. I’m a big-ass disappointment ever since I dropped piano.
Bullshit. I know how he talks about you. He ain’t disappointed, Chief.
Whatever. I’m home. Wouldn’t be texting if I wasn’t.
He chuckled. Maya was a very law-abiding police chief, which apparently was unusual for faraway spots like Lost Harbor, Alaska. Most law enforcement officers had to be pretty flexible in dealing with their independent, quirky populations.