Rebel Doc On Her Doorstep. Lucy Ryder

at the door.

      “The cops?” he demanded, outraged. “You called the damn cops?” He knew he was being unfair, but the whole situation was surreal, taking him back to the last time he’d been in this Washington seaside town, beaten up and in trouble with the cops because he and his buddies had thought they had something to prove in a bar filled with local roughnecks.

      He’d just turned eighteen and had wanted to flex his I’m-now-officially-cool muscles. He vividly remembered standing in a jail cell while his mother had coldly and furiously berated his father for not keeping Ty on a short leash.

      Yeah, right. Henry Chapman had worked all the time and as long as Ty hadn’t ended up in his ER, he’d pretty much trusted him to stay out of trouble.

      That had been the last time he’d spent summers in Port St. John’s because he’d been in med school and then establishing his surgical career, but mostly because he’d been mad at Henry for not standing up to Ty’s mother. For not fighting for a relationship with his son.

      It had been pretty juvenile but if his recent accident had taught him anything it was that life could be snuffed out in an instant and it was time to mend his relationship with his father.

      He was distracted from his inner musings when he caught her over-the-shoulder glance that suggested his IQ was lower than a rock’s. It didn’t faze him because, let’s face it, it wasn’t the first time he’d been an idiot. He’d thought he’d outgrown his impulsive tendencies but apparently not or he’d never have hopped on the first flight into SEATAC airport and headed for the Olympic Peninsula.

      He didn’t know what he’d been thinking because it hadn’t even crossed his mind that Henry Chapman would be out of town—or that his childhood sanctuary would have been invaded by a crazy faery wearing an oversized US Marine Corps T-shirt.

      “Of course I called the cops,” she snorted, backing towards the door and rising onto tiptoe to peer through the stained-glass inset. “I’m not an idiot. Besides, you could be a serial killer on the run from the FBI, for all I know.”

      He found himself staring at her, wondering if he’d face-planted into an alternate universe. “I think you’ve been watching way too much TV.”

      “I’m a city girl,” she replied, reaching out to unlock the door. “We’re taught from the cradle to be suspicious of strangers.”

      The door opened to reveal two cops, who flashed their badges as they stepped into the entrance hall, identifying themselves only as, “Police Department, ma’am.”

      She waved the flashlight at Ty, her voice a little wobbly as she hit a light switch and continued to address him. “Especially strange men who break into their homes in the middle of the night.”

      Ignoring her, Ty squinted up at the cops as light flooded the entrance. There was something familiar about the big guy taking in the situation with cool, assessing cop’s eyes but he couldn’t think past the headache the crazy woman had inflicted on him.

      “The question here should be what the penalties are in St John’s for illegal squatting,” he growled, scowling at the way the bigger cop was now smiling at GI faerie and asking her gently if she was okay, as though he liked what he saw and wouldn’t mind getting her number before hauling Ty off to county lockup.

      Yeah, right. Like that was happening.

      He shifted to get to his feet but his vision swam along with his stomach, so he held up his good hand to get someone’s attention. Someone who wasn’t so damn busy flirting, that was.

      “Hey,” he growled irritably, when everyone continued to ignore him. “A hand here.” They all turned, surprised by his request. Okay, so it was more of a demand, but what the hell? “When you’re done flirting, that is,” he ended snidely, hiding a smirk at the big cop’s hard look—which he returned. The younger guy grinned and GI faerie huffed out a startled laugh.

      She went to shove her hair out of her face and nearly conked herself on the head with the flashlight. Ty watched her face flush as she swung away.

      “I was... I was... I was just about to call for an ambulance,” she ended on a rush, clearly more than a little rattled.

      “No!” he yelled, wincing when the sound echoed through his skull and everyone tensed, the cops turning, hands on weapons. He sucked in a deep breath. “No,” he repeated more calmly. “I’m fine.”

      “You most definitely are not fine,” she said decisively, waving the flashlight around again. “Look at you. You’re a mess. You need a hospital.”

      Insulted, he snarled, “I don’t need a damn hospital. And will someone take that damn flashlight away before she injures herself?” He waited until she slammed it down on the entrance table and turned to him, hands on her hips and eyes narrowed dangerously.

      “Good. Great.” He shifted and winced. “I just need a little help, that’s all. An explanation would be even better.”

      “For what?”

      “Maybe we’ll start with what the hell you’re doing in my house and then move on to the unprovoked attack.”

      “Unprovoked?” she squeaked in outrage. “You looked like the walking dead after my brains. What the heck was I supposed to do?” Three pairs of eyes swung her way and Ty noticed the cops’ similar expressions of male confusion. She must have too because she pushed out her lush lower lip, crossed her eyes and huffed out an exasperated breath. “For your information,” she continued primly, “this is my house.”

      “No, it’s not.” And when no one moved or spoke, “Dammit, will someone tell me what the hell is going on?”

      She made a tsking sound at his language and turned to the cops. “If he won’t go to the hospital, you’ll have to hold him down while I do it here.” Her voice dropped and she whispered...loudly. “It’s going to hurt. We usually strap them to the bed and stick them with a bunch of needles before we try this.”

      “Hold me—? Needles? Whoa, you hold it, lady. Right there.” He lifted his good hand in the universal stop gesture and dared them to come any closer. “What do you think you’re doing?”

      She studied him silently for a couple of seconds before sharing a look with flirty cop. “I’m going to fix your shoulder.”

      Oh, no. No way in hell.

      “No offense, babe,” he snorted, gritting his teeth against the agony as he struggled to his feet. Where he completely embarrassed himself by swaying as sweat exploded from his pores. His vision swam and it took supreme self-control to stay upright. Fortunately he hadn’t eaten since the questionable airline food or he’d be totally humiliating himself. “But I’m not letting a bossy faerie commando anywhere near my shoulder.” He jerked his chin behind her. “They can help.”

      “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she snorted, stepping close now that she had two burly cops with guns at her back. “I think the bossy faerie commando is more qualified to do this.”

      Yeah, right. “I doubt it.” He glared at the cop. “Flirty cop here can help me.”

      “It’s Detective Petersen.” Flirty cop arched his brows and looked amused but made no move towards him. Fine. He turned to the younger cop and got a helpless shrug.

      “See,” she said smugly. “They know who’s in charge here.” She patted his shoulder. “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll let Detective Petersen help. And don’t worry about it,” she soothed, as if she was talking to a frightened kid. “I know what I’m doing. You won’t feel a thing.”

      Ty ground his teeth together and sent her a touch me and die glare that she totally disregarded by tugging gently but firmly, clearly wanting him back on the floor.

      Which was no way in hell happening. He tried to shrug her off and ended up slapping a hand against the wall when the world spun.

      “It’ll