Bad Company

Heartache and Happiness

"What are you doing?" I demanded, eyeing the encroaching tree line as Sam was brought over to the edge of the pavement. The tires ran over the bumps lining the road, causing an irritating noise. I figured Colt wouldn't be happy about my decision, but pulling off on the side of the road five minutes from the hospital seemed mildly excessive.

Narrowed eyes grazed my abdomen, and Colt shook his head. "Why aren't you buckled up?"

My eyebrow arched upwards as I examined him, his expression passive, if not slightly upset. "The seatbelt was rubbing against my ribs. It was hurting, so I took it off when you went in to grab food."

"Sweetheart, you can't just..." Colt took in a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in between his thumb and forefinger. He then dropped his hand to his lap and swung his face towards me. "I need you to buckle up. I'm not risking you dying in an accident."

My eyebrows shot up disbelievingly. "Two miles from the hospital?"

"Anything can happen, especially at this time of night when drunk drivers are on the road," he explained. His tone reminded me of my father's when he told me why I shouldn't jump off the roof with an umbrella to fly like Mary Poppins. "Now, c'mon. Buckle up, or I'm not driving any farther."

My eyes widened, and I practically pleaded Colt with my eyes. "But, Blue--"

"Not this time, sweetheart," he responded simply, motioning with his hand to the seatbelt.

I groaned and leaned my head back against the chair with a muffled thump, but I did as he wanted and hooked my finger under the buckle, pulling it towards me. I quickly secured the belt, but whimpered when the material slipped from my fingers and slapped against my ribs.

"Do you have anything soft to put between your body and the belt, like a blanket or a pillow?" Colt asked, faint worried lines creasing his forehead. I shook my head and focused on steadying my breaths. Colt continued to search for something to use when he suddenly undid his seatbelt and sat forward. Wordlessly, he clutched the black fabric of his shirt in his hands and yanked it over his head.

Thick muscles were encased tightly beneath his tanned skin, taunting my eyes with a glorious sight. For the first time, I noticed a name interwoven into the pattern of the angel wings.

Neil.

His brother.

A dull ache pounded in my chest, but it wasn't from the bruises. No, it was one that dug much deeper into my soul, picking at the healing wounds from my parents' deaths.

I almost glanced away until he leaned back against the seat, my eyes catching the ridges of his abs flexing in the dim light of the cab.

Suddenly, all of my somber thoughts flew out of my mind.

The man was purely sinful.

"Here." Colt's voice held a trace of humor as he handed me his bunched up shirt. "Put it between the belt and your chest. It should help with the friction."

I took the soft fabric in my hands and placed it against my abdomen, almost crying from the relief it provided. "Thanks. That feels much better already."

Colt grinned and swung his breathtaking gaze over to me, winking in the dim light. He eased Sam back onto the road and continued driving the short distance to the hospital.