becoming engrossed with the file she held. She tapped the paper with her pen. “How long were you in inpatient rehab?”
“Eight weeks. And then four weeks of in-home PT after. Yet here I am.” He gestured toward his chair. “I need to get back to the force now. No. Sooner than that.”
“You have to be patient,” she said. “Every recovery is different.”
“Well, this one is taking forever. I mean, the doctors assured me I would walk again, but...” He shrugged.
“I’m sure you’ll be back to playing cops and robbers in no time.”
She chuckled when she said it, though her eyes darted to the right, as if she was suddenly uncomfortable. But he wouldn’t let her get away with a comment like that again. Even if she had a good reason to dislike cops, she didn’t get to take it out on him.
“I’m more concerned about getting back to work so I can help people.”
Her gaze lifted to meet his. “Sorry. Long day.”
“The day’s only half over.”
“I mean it.” She paused, looking at the floor. “That was uncalled for. It won’t happen again.”
“That’s good to hear.”
He didn’t doubt what she said was true. Natalie Keaton didn’t appear to be the kind of woman who slipped up often, so part of him liked that he’d pushed her off her game. Was it because he unnerved her? Who was he kidding? He was the only one who’d been affected in any way by their meeting. And he’d better get over it in a hurry.
This wasn’t about attraction, or lack thereof. It was about him learning to walk again. Soon. Sooner if he ever hoped to be out on patrol again instead of warehoused behind a desk or, worse, be thanked for his service and put out to law-enforcement pasture with the other officers who’d given almost all for public safety.
As his physical therapist, Natalie might be the one thing between him and that meaningless future. Well, she and whatever was messing with his head and keeping him from walking. But until he figured that out, she was all he had. So he didn’t care what problems she had with him. He intended to win her over to his side. His future depended on it.
“IT’S ABOUT TIME.”
Shane’s words as they reached the reception area were the same ones he’d said before, and, again, Natalie couldn’t have agreed more. The appointment had to have lasted longer than just an hour, at least if physical and mental exertion counted as minutes. For him and her. Even though Shane had worked harder than her last three clients combined, she still was relieved the appointment was over.
The woman seated in the chair across from them looked just the way Natalie would have predicted. Blonde. Flawless. A perfect match for someone who looked like Shane Warner. Now the police uniform the woman wore, Natalie hadn’t expected that. Was this the Kelly he’d mentioned earlier?
The officer, who’d been engrossed in the screen of her smartphone, startled as if caught doing something she shouldn’t have been and leaped to her feet. She frowned as her phone clattered to the floor.
“Now see what you made me do. If it’s broken, you’re a dead man.” She crouched and grabbed the phone from beneath the chair and examined it as she stood. Finally, she looked up at them. “Anyway, I’m here. Right on time.”
“You’re usually late, so thanks for the special effort.”
“You’re welcome.” She grabbed her hat from the seat next to her and crossed to him, bending to give him a quick hug.
Natalie could only look back and forth between them. At first, their conversation had sounded like flirting, but it seemed no different from the way he’d spoken with the other trooper earlier. Minus the hug. Still, it sounded like workplace banter. Or a really dull relationship.
“Oh, Natalie Keaton.” Shane gestured toward her then indicated the officer. “Meet Trooper Kelly Roberts, my second chauffeur of the day.”
Chauffeur? No one could call someone he was involved with that...and live. But the question of the day was why Natalie cared who that woman was or what she meant to her client. She refused to call the feeling welling inside her relief. Whatever it was, there was no excuse for it. Hadn’t her curiosity about Shane’s injury already gotten her into enough trouble today without her heading in some other unacceptable direction?
Kelly smiled her way. “I drew the short straw today.”
“Today?” She shouldn’t have been asking. It was none of her business.
“He’s fighting it every step of the way, but all of us at the Brighton Post have divided him up like a pizza,” Kelly explained. “Everybody wants to help out. Since we have three shifts, our slices are pretty thin.”
Wow, that many coworkers wanted to help Shane? Sure, Natalie and her mother had received some help following the accident, but no one had reached out to them like that. Of course, they hadn’t required much assistance, since Natalie had taken on the whole job herself.
“They all just want to take turns bugging me,” Shane said with a frown. “They barely leave anything for the visiting nurse or the aide to do.”
“Except help with showers,” Kelly said, grimacing. “Nobody volunteers for that.”
A flash of steamy water pouring over that broad chest and those rounded biceps took Natalie by surprise. But the way Shane shifted in his chair, as if uncomfortable with anyone knowing he needed bathing assistance, threw ice on her off-limits reverie. Good thing Shane wasn’t watching her now, since he would have read her as easily as he would a street sign.
Kelly continued, “Now let’s get going before my lunchtime is up. I’m lucky Vinnie let me take a turn at all.” She turned back to Natalie. “Sergeant Leonetti has got it in his head that he should do all the helping.”
“Overachiever,” Shane said in a tight voice.
There had to be a story behind that one. Again, Natalie was curious, but she wouldn’t ask. She glanced at her watch instead.
“Well, I have another client in ten minutes, so I’d better get ready.”
She met Shane’s gaze as Kelly helped him put on his coat. “Remember what I told you. If you want to get stronger, you need to follow your home exercise program every day.”
“I remember everything you said.”
His steady gaze held her captive. Her pulse pounded, and her lips were suddenly dry. Good thing he looked away because she couldn’t have done it. Oh, she’d bet he remembered what she’d said, even the parts of their conversation she wished he’d forgotten. How was she supposed to work with him three times a week now that she’d hinted about her personal bias toward police? She needed to show that she could do her job without letting her baggage—or her hormones—interfere.
She slanted a glance to the uniformed officer, who was handing Shane his hat. If
