by Ashley Kay
It’s because you’re close, too close, and I can smell your signature scent and feel your warm body against mine.
Her brows crunch together, creating a wrinkle in between. I’m swallowed whole by her deep hazel eyes. After a beat and a shock up my leg as I put weight on my ankle, I’m knocked back into reality. I hiss out another cursed complaint, and she tightens her grip on my waist. Now, I feel every dip and plane of her petite hands on me. I quickly tell myself to think about those pretty hands on Greyson and it has the desired effect, along with pissing me off.
“I got you, just go slow, luckily this happened here.” We inch closer to her door.
“Lucky?” I rasp through the pain. “Today has been one for the books. This, however, is just the icing on the shit cake I’ve consumed today.”
She laughs before stifling it when she witnesses my grimace. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. I rarely delight in other’s pain, but I noticed you grumbling around the office this week.”
She noticed me?
Satisfaction hums through me, and I cling to it.
“I’m not discreet when I’m irritated,” I say dryly, trying to halt another round of agony shooting up from my disgruntled ankle.
Another throaty laugh from Savy. “I also noticed that. We’ll just call it being passionate.”
“Whatever makes you feel good about my temper.”
“Why has your day been hell … besides the obvious one here?”
We get inside without further incident and hobble to the kitchen. She helps me lower myself to the chair and then gingerly props my injured leg up onto another chair.
Sighing, I pull up my pant leg to inspect it in the bright light. “This morning my phone died, and I was late to work. None of my stuff has arrived and I have no practical clothes to wear, hence the ruined shoes. The coffee machine at my house is antiquated and I can still feel coffee grounds in my molars.” I crane my neck to the side. “Let’s see what else. Oh yeah, my desk chair broke as I was sitting in it. Montana is great,” I sarcastically blow out the words.
She covers her mouth with her hand to hide her laughing. “Seriously? I wish I had been there to see that!”
“Everyone else did so you can get the play-by-play from them. The only chair left for me to use is a fold-up lawn chair with dancing cacti in cowboy hats. Who the hell has a chair like that? Then, I went for a walk to blow off some steam and ended up at the horse stables and had to listen to Shelby give me some philosophical tropes to digest before I stepped in horse shit. Here I thought my day should have been smooth sailing after that, but we both know how that ended up.” I pointedly stab daggers at my ankle and Savy burst out laughing.
“I’m so sorry, Preston,” she says in between giggles, “that’s why you smell like a horse.” After she dries her eyes from cackling so much—I admit it, I have to laugh too—we both recoil at my rapidly swelling ankle. It’s gruesome. Purple bruises circle my puffy skin and blood runs down out of several scrapes and scratches.
Savy opens her cabinet above the microwave and has to get on her tippy toes to reach the first aid kit. Her shirt rides up and affords me a glimpse of the smooth skin underneath her flannel shirt. I quickly avert my eyes before she can see me with my tongue hanging out. Craving my brother’s girlfriend like she’s the newest item on a Mexican restaurant menu is a new low, even for me.
She comes over and sits down to go through the kit. Her hair again falls in her face, and I have the urge to brush it behind her ears, but I resist. Feeling guilty, I look away, my stomach twisting and not just from the pain.
“I’m going to take your shoe and sock off and clean the wounds, then ice it.”
“Aye, aye captain. Or doctor I guess I should say.”
She smiles as she gets up to turn on the water at the sink. Coming back, she crouches down and unties my laces. Her long fingers are deft as they ease my shoe off gently, but not enough, and I elicit a low moan.
“I’m sorry, I’m trying to be gentle.”
I stop her hands with my own and feel an electric current at the touch. She whips her head up and looks right at me.
I immediately pull my hand off hers and clear my throat. “You’re doing fine, thank you.”
She rolls down my sock and slowly bunches it under my heel, then lets it fall to the floor next to my shoe. She gingerly inspects and pokes a bit into my flesh. It’s tender and I clutch the side of her table.
“The cuts aren’t too deep. I don’t think you need stitches, but I see some wood splinters. I’m going to have to get those out before I bandage you up.” I nod as she goes to wet the washcloth again. Bringing it to my wounds, it’s soothing, the warm heat battling the chill from the cold outside.
“You got your water fixed,” I comment, angling my head toward the sink.
Glancing up at me, she beams. “Randy, the maintenance man for the facility came out and saved the day.” She gently cleanses my wound, paying careful attention to the scrapes that are leaking blood.
Maybe she’s forgiven me for my boorish behavior after the shower incident?
“Look, I’m sorry for being so … mean … the other day…” I trail off, unsure of myself around her.
She doesn’t look up, just keeps cleaning my wounds. “Don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have invaded your space.”
“Doesn’t excuse my behavior. I just…” I’m at a loss for words. It’s not that I’ve never had to apologize, it’s just that with her, I keep messing up and I don’t want her to view me negatively.
She places a hand on my knee. It jolts me out of my body, but I keep my cool. “It’s ok, Preston, really. This is a big change for you, I completely understand.” She removes her hand, but it’s already tattooed on my skin.
Letting her work, I take some time to inspect her kitchen. It’s painted a soft gray and the cabinets are stark white with black iron handles, lending to a modern feel, just like my place. The décor blends farmhouse and industrial and I like the combination. Old with the new. Better than my cold penthouse, but when you work a lot, there isn’t a lot of time for decorating.
There’s a small island in the center topped with a chopping block and a bowl of apples. A few dishes hang out in her sink and some are drying on a mat beside it. Her fridge is stainless steel and covered in pictures. Photos of her and three others that I think might be her siblings because of physical similarities clutter the front. One picture features her with an older man I assume is her father and another one is of her and Theo in a pair of swings. I don’t see one with her mom and I wonder what that means. A familiar ache stirs in my chest, and I rub it away to focus back on Savy. I didn’t catch any pictures of her and Greyson, either.
“Ow!” I jump when the tweezers pull out a long wood splinter from my ankle. I glare at her and let out a growl at the pain.
“Sorry. That one was gigantic,” she winces before snickering. “You should see your face.”
Shaking my head, I watch her go back to tweezing the remaining shards of her step from my swollen and puckered skin.
Filling the silence because I want to know more about her, I spout out, “Tell me about you. Since you’re playing my doctor, it’s only fair you work on your bedside manners. Besides, you’re practically ripping out my flesh along with those splinters.” I crack a smile.
Pretending she’s going to stab me with those tweezers, she grins. “I’d watch it there, cowboy. I’m the one with the sharp tools here.”
She resumes her doctor duties, her hair covering her face. “I have three siblings, two are twins, Maisie and Mabel. They’re nineteen, almost twenty. Micah, my brother, is twenty-five and works in San Francisco for a magazine. He writes fiction. Specifically, sci-fi. My dad is here in Montana where I grew up and you can find him in the woods daily, hunting. He’s the one who taught me archery.”
Straightening her head, she taps her chin with the tweezers. “Um, let’s see, my favorite color is blue, I love tulips and BBQ chicken.”
“W
hat about your mom? You didn’t mention her,” I interrupt.
She wrinkles up her nose and a sad, faraway look crosses her face. I want to backpedal and shut my damn mouth.
“I didn’t mean to ask, you don’t have to tell me.”
She waves a hand. “It’s fine. Even after all these years, it’s still hard. She died when I was ten. In childbirth with my sisters. I had to help take care of them, all of them, including my dad.”
I extend my arm and place a hand on hers. “I’m sorry. That must have been rough on you and your entire family.” This woman makes me soft, and I’m not sure if I like it.
“Yeah, it was tough. For a few months it was like my dad didn’t exist anymore. He would disappear more frequently in the woods and I would have to go find him, track him down, and bring him home so he could be our dad.” She eyes my hand that’s still on hers and I reluctantly remove it. I don’t know why, but I want to touch her.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Makes sense then.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why you’re so good at taking care of people. Helping me, helping people here.”
“Oh. I guess you’re right. I just have this need to make sure everyone is taken care of. Like it’s a compulsion or something.” She laughs and then wraps up my ankle. Her fingers are gentle as she wounds the stretchy material around my heel, foot, and up around my ankle.
I have to ask, my heart quickening the entire time, like a racehorse on the last stretch before the finish line. “Are you being taken care of? I mean, is Greyson taking good care of you?” Those words snag in my throat, but I force them out—I need to know.
Her pretty eyebrows arch as she continues her work. “Greyson is a good boss. He makes sure everyone is taken care of.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Then, as if it dawns on her what I’m asking, she widens her eyes and blurts out, “Ohhh. No, Grey and I are not dating. At all. He shouldn’t have led you to believe we were.” Her face reddens to a deep shade of tomato.
“Seriously, we aren’t together. We did, uh, try to go on date when I first got here, but it was awkward, so we thought it was best to be strictly friends and employees. He feels like a brother to me.”
I loosen my shoulders; I was incredibly tense. She’s not dating my brother. She’s a free agent. At least until I make her mine.
I rear back from my possessive thoughts, irritated they even dared to enter my brain. I’ve spent the better part of seven years isolating from any intimacy that extended beyond one night and she’ll be no different from the rest. Except I won’t be inviting her to my bed. That would complicate things. I don’t peg Savy as the wham bam thank you ma’am type. Besides, she could be dating someone else. Try telling your twisted mind you can keep this platonic and believe it, Preston.
“Just wondering, wasn’t sure how he’d feel about his more handsome older brother over here with his girl.”
She bends her head back and chuckles, oblivious to my internal freak out. “Grey doesn’t get to tell me who to hang out with.”
“You don’t deny that I’m the more handsome brother, then.”
Her face flushes, and it’s adorable.
Pushing her hair back, she stands up and darts to the cabinet, pulling out a small white bottle. “Come on, let’s get ice on your ankle. I have some pain relievers for you, too. It will also help bring down the swelling.”
She assists me into a standing position, it’ll be easier to ice it on the couch, but the more time I spend in her company, the more I enjoy it, and I don’t want to like her. My intense attraction to her bothers me.
“I can go home if you need me to, I don’t want to intrude on your time.” I’m giving her an out, and myself if I’m honest.
“No, I want to monitor you for a bit.” She guides me to the living room and the soft blue couch under the window. She swings my leg up onto a pillow and pulls a blanket over me. It’s a creamy white Sherpa blanket and the warmth of it crawls into my body.
Adjusting the material, her foot tangles up in a section that’s hanging off the couch. She falls forward and lands on my chest. The air is punched out of me as her hands touch my body and her breath fans across my face. We’re nose to nose again and the same feeling that happens every time I’m in her vicinity threatens to undo all my restraint. This physical attraction to her is foreign. The electricity bounces from her hazel eyes and travels throughout my body, sizzling in its wake.
I’m not sure where my brain went, but it’s making my body do things it shouldn’t do. I lean slightly into her, inhaling her sweet scent, zeroing in on her plush lips. My hands rest on her upper arms and grip her tighter when her tongue peeps out, barely brushing her bottom lip. I just died a thousand deaths. I want to close the distance so badly, and now that I know she isn’t with Greyson, I’m tempted to even more. Her pupils dilate, darting back and forth in time with mine, and her breath comes out in little pants. Needing to kiss her more than anything, I feel myself growing hard under the blanket. A few more inches and I can seal the deal.
Her phone loudly buzzes on the coffee table, effectively ending the epic connection, and she shoots off of me like a cannon. Fumbling with her phone, she sprints to the kitchen.
Fuck. I close my eyes and put a hand over my head. That was close. And stupid. I pride myself on my self-control, but around Savy, I have zero. Zip. Nada. I’m like a teenage boy taking his first glance at a playboy magazine. Lifting the blanket, I scold my hard dick. Get your act together, this isn’t high school.
I don’t know this woman well, but she’s like a drug, slicing up my already torn veins and injecting sweet poison into them. It’s been years since I’ve felt reckless around a woman, let alone wanting to retract all the rules I’ve made for myself. I’ve been with countless women, but what’s going on here between us hasn’t happened before. I need to snap out of whatever this is. This woman, this enchantress, takes care of me and I’m about to abandon all my reserves. It’s ridiculous. But one look into her trusting eyes and I’m a goner. She’s a damn siren and doesn’t even know it.
Emerging from the kitchen, she carries with her a glass of water and the medicine, her phone in the crook of her shoulder. “Oh shoot, I missed our meeting!” She pauses, “Yeah, I know. Can we reschedule? Your brother—” I try to cut her off from telling him I’m here, but she narrows her eyes. “Your brother fell through that rotten step here at the house and busted up his ankle. I’ve been patching him up.”
Sighing, I turn my eyes to the ceiling. I don’t want him knowing I’m over here. Or injured. I don’t need him around me any more than he already is.
As if she could read my mind, she says to Greyson, “No, he’s fine, I got him. It looks like a sprain, but once the swelling goes down, I’ll know more … yes, I’ll text you later and let you know. Bye.” She ends the call, tossing her phone into the chair. The moment’s gone, and in its place sits my brother. He’s always in the way.
“Thanks.” I look up at her with gratitude.
“You’re welcome. I don’t know what all’s going on between you two, but I gotta tell ya, I’m not a big fan of being in the middle.”
“I’m sorry, I won’t have you do that again.” I hang my head and rake my hands through my hair. “I just don’t think I can talk to him yet…” My voice fades, and she comes closer to me. Placing her hand on my face, she strokes my cheek. My eyes widen; I’m not used to someone being so caring aside from my mother. It’s soothing and for so long, I’d gone without. I don’t know why I’m even letting her get close. She’ll only hurt me, and I’ll only hurt her. History always repeats itself.
I flinch, and she pulls back her hand like I stung her. Staring for a few seconds, the walls close in, and I grow claustrophobic. This woman has interrupted my solitude, and it’s making me crazy. I should go home.
Leaning forward, I grab my leg to swing over the couch cushion, but she holds out her hand to stop me. “Don’t move, you’ll onl
y make it worse. Here’s some medicine, it will help.” She hands me the water and pills. Swallowing them, I sit the glass down and rest my head back on the pillow she’s placed behind my head. She’s being really kind. I shouldn’t be rude by trying to leave so quickly.
“Thanks, doc. Feeling better already, but you should have someone fix that step.” I gesture toward the front door with a smile on my face and she hugs her red cheeks.
“Yes … every time I see it, I remember, but then I forget. I’m sorry you had to fall victim to it.”
“It’s ok, I had the best doctor, so I can’t complain. You would have made a killer nurse. Not that you aren’t already a killer with that weapon you swing around every day.” God, I’m an idiot. What are these pain meds doing to me?
“My mom was a nurse; she might have passed on some of that to me.” Shrugging, she plops down in the chair across from me and pulls her legs up under her body, laying her head down on her arms.
My ankle throbs. I need a distraction, and she’s right in front of me. “Tell me more about you.” I relax further into the couch, one hand behind my head.
She’s pensive, staring out the window behind me. “I was married,” she whispers as she picks at a piece of lint on her clothes. My eyebrows shoot up. I’m surprised, but then again, I’m not. Any guy would be lucky to marry someone like her.
“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”
She sighs, turning her head toward me. “He cheated on me. With a co-worker. It was mostly my fault.” She bites her lip, looking lost in thought.
I scoff, irritated at her assumption. “Your fault? No way. He was the cheater and no matter what happened, he made that choice, not you.” Her admission hits close to home and my opinion is jaded.
Her eyes go misty, and I’m angry for her. I decide not to push it and make her say any more than she wants to, but she speaks anyway. “We were high school sweethearts. Had been friends for years and it was just sort of expected by everyone that we end up together. It wasn’t like we didn’t care about each other, we did, we loved each other. But, it wasn’t enough in the end. I didn’t think I’d be a divorcee by age twenty-five, but it happened. Made me pretty wary of getting close to anyone after that.”
