The Cowbear's Christmas Shotgun Wedding (Curvy Bear Ranch 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

medic in the Marines. I sewed up plenty of men in the field with less than what we have in this kit.”
    “How do I know you’re not going to turn me into Frankenstein’s monster?”
    He couldn’t tell if she was serious or joking. “I wouldn’t maim someone as beautiful as you.”
    Her eyes went wide for a second before a blank mask fell across her face. “Okay Frankenstein, let’s get this over with.”
    After flashing a slight smile, he picked up the stitching kit. He selected the smallest needle and surgical thread. Although he wasn’t a surgeon, his medical training had included the basics. He had no doubt that he’d be able to sew her up with minimal scarring.
    “Do you have anything to dull the pain? A bottle of bourbon, maybe?”
    She glared. “No. The first thing I did was dump all the booze down the drain. As long as I own this place, there won’t be any alcohol in it. Consider it a dry house.”
    “Whoa, I didn’t know I’d hit a nerve with that one.”
    “Like you didn’t know my daddy was the town drunk,” she snapped.
    “I had my suspicions, but you never let me get close enough to you to find out more about your family.”
    “Can you blame me? You ruined the one place… you know what? Never mind. Just stitch me up so I can get back to work.”
    The tremble in her voice wrapped around his heart and squeezed. He didn’t have to guess that she was referring to the prom. He’d been such an ass that night. As soon as one of the other guys had mentioned her tattered old dress, he’d spearheaded the merciless teasing. He should have known better than to make fun of her. He cringed when he thought about the things he’d said to her that night.
    “Kate, I’m sorry—”
    “Ancient history.” She cut him off with a wave of her hand.
    “But I want to—”
    “Just wrap it up and I’ll drive into town.” She pulled away. “I’m sure someone will be around to help me. There has to be an emergency number on the clinic door or something.”
    “No.” He grabbed her wrist. “I’ll do it. Just let me lick it first.”
    “What?” She stepped back as if he’d suggested cutting off her head. Apparently she didn’t know about his unusual talent.
    “I’m a shifter…”
    “I know that,” she snapped.
    “And I have a gift. My saliva will help dull the pain and it will help you heal faster.”
    She burst out laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Do you think I’m a complete moron? That is such bullshit.”
    Before she could protest again, he grabbed her arm, pulled it up and lashed his tongue along the length of the cut.
    She shrieked and yanked her arm back. “What the hell?”
    He waited a few seconds. The expression on her face melted from one of insulted rage to wonder.
    “How did you do that?” she asked.
    “Some shifters have gifts. Do you have one?”
    “No.” She cocked her head to one side. “Do your brothers have special gifts too?”
    “Not that I know of.” He picked up the needle and surgical thread. “Maybe you’d be more comfortable if you were lying down.”
    Her gaze dropped to the needle before returning to his face. Her normally peach complexion turned whiter than snow. Yeah, she needed to lie down.
    “Come on,” he said as he led her to the bedroom.
    After she lay down on the bed, he grabbed a towel from the bathroom and laid it under her arm.
    “What have you been up to since you left?” he asked in an effort to distract her.
    “Not much. I got my design degree…” As he pierced the skin for the first time, her voice clicked up an octave. “…and I’ve just been working.”
    “I’m guessing you’re not married.”
    “Why would you say that?” she asked defensively.
    “No wedding ring. You’ve also never mentioned needing to call your husband.”
    “Oh, right. No. Never married.”
    “Why not?” he asked.
    “Shouldn’t you be concentrating? I’m not a pin cushion you know.”
    “I’m concentrating.”
    “On what, my arm or my