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Woo Hoo! I'm on Chapter Sixteen of Worth the Trouble--headed for the finish line. Thought you might enjoy a little snippet, and a look at the cover. :)
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When they made it out to the truck, Wes got behind the wheel. Instead of letting her slide into the passenger side first to sit between them, Ethan pushed his crutches at her, then worked his way up into the truck to sit by Wes.

From his grimaces and slow movement, she figured out he must be hurting from his wreck. With a growl, Rocky went to the bed of the truck and threw his crutches inside, then stomped back to the front to get up on the seat beside him, before slamming the door.

Noticing Ethan's fists were clenched on his thighs, Rocky asked grumpily, because she didn't want to care, but she did, "You need some Ibuprofen?"

"Yeah, that would be good, if you have some," he replied tersely.

Wes cranked the truck, and she rifled through her knapsack, until she found the bottle she had stuck in there earlier. Opening it, she poured out four pills into her hand, then handed them to him with the bottle of water she'd opened earlier.

Ethan looked at her for a second, then spread his palm to drop the pills into his mouth, before he swigged the water to wash them down.

"You sure those aren't arsenic tablets," he asked under his breath with a chuckle, as he handed the bottle back to her.

"Fine time to ask now that you've swallowed them," she said smartly, then shoved the bottle back into her knapsack, before setting it down between her legs.

"It would be no less than I deserve," he told her and she felt his eyes on her again.

"I don't want to talk about that right now," she gritted out through her teeth, with a glance at Wes.

"Oh, yeah right, not in front of the boyfriend," he said with a derisive snort.

Rocky didn't reply, she folded her arms over her chest and stared out the window. The only way she was going to avoid a blowup here in front of Wes was by not engaging Ethan. It was going to be tough, but she could handle that.

As it turned out, what she couldn't handle was Ethan gripping her thigh very near ground zero every time Wes hit a bump on their drive back to Amarillo.

Each time he did it, he looked at her to let her know it wasn't an accident either, and his hand lingered there until she peeled his fingers off of her thigh to put it back on his own.

Bastard, she thought for the umpteenth time, as Wes pulled onto the rutted road that led up to the farm where they were headed.