by Hart, Rye
Sitting on the rickety coffee table, I reached over for her leg.
“May I?” I asked
She nodded.
I gently picked up her leg. She was bleeding and badly scraped up. I couldn’t see how severe the gash in her leg was, but I could see several splinters that would need to be pulled, and her leg needed to be disinfected and bandaged.
“I guess the wood gave way underneath me,” she said.
I slowly rose my gaze to hers as I rolled her pants leg up.
“Doesn’t shock me,” I said.
I stopped rolling up her pant leg and allowed my hands to rest on her knee. I started pushing her knee cap around, making sure nothing was dislocated or broken. I slowly worked my way down until I got to the top of her bleeding shin, and that was when I saw her flinch.
I found myself curious as to why she was here.
“Do you live around here?” she asked.
Strike one. She wanted to be friendly.
“Down the road,” I said.
“Did you—?”
My eyes slowly rose back up to hers before I moved her leg down to the floor.
Her eyes were still roaming my body, and I had to bite back my smirk. I allowed my eyes to linger on her as she took in her fill, clocking her prominent cleavage. Her stomach was toned, and her waist dipped in before flaring into a pair of thighs that had my tongue begging for a taste. She was a gorgeous woman who was in way over her head with a place like this.
“Did I what?” I asked.
Her eyes snapped back up to mine before her neck flushed with that beautiful pink hue.
“Did you know the woman who used to live here?” she asked.
There was sadness in her eyes as she asked the question. Like she was searching for some kindred spirit to share in her anguish.
Of course, I didn’t fucking know anyone. That was the whole point of moving up here. No people, no women, and no fusses.
“No,” I said. “Can’t say I did.”
She nodded her head and looked away before her eyes gazed down at her leg.
“What exactly were you thinking when you came up here all alone in a place like this?” I asked.
“Sorry?”
“This place isn’t for someone like you,” I said.
“Someone like me?” she asked. “What does that mean?”
“No offense, but you don’t strike me as the mountain gal type.”
“I’ll have you know I grew up in this home,” she said.
That piqued my interest.
Pushing me away, she got up onto her leg before she yelped. I jumped up and caught her before she hit the floor, cursing her as she went down. She was a stubborn woman, and I had no time for any drama. Hell, I hardly had time for myself.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked.
“Getting to my purse,” she said.
“What’s in your purse?” I asked, grunting. “A pair of crutches?”
“The papers from my grandmother’s attorney stating that this cabin is rightfully mine.”
Steadying her on her feet, I helped her over to the bag on the floor. She bent down as blood dripped down her leg. She needed to be cleaned up before some sort of infection set in, but as she rummaged around in her purse, I relented.
If she wanted to look for some paperwork instead of getting to a doctor, fine by me.
“Here,” she said as she unfolded the papers. “Take a look.”
“I don’t care about the papers,” I said. “I was only wondering what the hell a girl like you was doing alone in a place like this.”
I took the papers from her anyway and scanned them.
There were pictures of the house, and I could see why this woman was so shocked. The pictures did this house way too much justice. Whoever took these damn photos got the lighting just right and probably showcased the only two rooms in the house that had any decent structure to them. This woman had been gifted a cabin that wasn’t fit for animals to live in, much less a human being.
But as she looked around the cabin, I could see the memories it held for her.
I wondered if she was haunted by her memories like I was haunted by mine.
Strike two. Now, this woman had me feeling sorry for her.
“Your leg needs to be patched,” I said as I handed her the papers back.
“Thanks for the advice,” she said.
“I have a first aid kit at my place.”
“Are you a doctor?” she asked.
“Nope. But you don’t need stitches, and I have everything I need to clean you up.”
“No, thanks. My mother taught me all about stranger danger.”
“I teach my niece that, too,” I said.
She turned her eyes to look at me, and I was struck by their beauty again.
“Your niece?” she asked.
“Yep. Niece and a nanny. You can meet them. Let’s get you to my place and clean you up. Then, you can be on your way.”
“Something tells me you would like that,” she said.
“No one moves to the top of a mountain to socialize.”
She nodded before she looked back down at her leg and sighed.
“I guess I don’t have a choice. Medical insurance isn’t the highest on my priority list.”
I knew I shouldn’t have cared what she meant by that, but my curiosity piqued even further.
“All right,” I said as I scooped her up. “Come on.”
She sat rigidly in my arms at first, as if she was annoyed by the fact that she needed to be carried. But within a few minutes, her body softened against mine and I felt her give in to the fact that she required help. I tried not to allow myself to think about how good she felt in my arms. I didn’t have time for her other than to clean her up and send her on her way back to the shithole cabin she’d apparently inherited.
I set her on the kitchen counter and propped her leg up before I rummaged for the first aid kit. All the while, I could feel her eyes on me and I willed myself not to look into her emerald eyes.
I needed to stay focused on one thing and one thing only; getting this gorgeous woman the hell out of my home.
CHAPTER 3
Amanda
He’s a fucking god.
From the moment he parted the dusty haze and strode toward me in that cabin, I was breathless. He had dark brown hair and deep blue eyes. His chiseled muscles were coated in sweat from doing fuck-knows-what before I fell through the damn stairs. He lifted me from that pile of rubble like it was nothing before he carried me to my grandmother’s couch, and his touch had been gentle as he rolled up the leg of my pants.
That hadn’t been expected, considering the calluses of his hands rubbing against my skin.
I couldn’t stop staring at him. The way his rippling chest flowed into chiseled abs. The way the veins in his arms throbbed with every movement he took. His skin was tanned, kissed by the sun itself and shining even with the dust clinging to his body.
I knew I was staring, but I couldn’t help it.
The way he carried me to his house effortlessly was riveting. He picked me up as if I weighed nothing and held me as if I was a delicate porcelain doll. I felt his exposed muscles twitching underneath my skin as he kept me close to his body, forcing a warmth to rise in my gut. It had been years since I’d been this captivated by a man, and never in my life had I felt so vulnerable and so safe at the same time.
But when he sat me on the kitchen counter and locked his eyes with mine, I was spellbound.
Instead of putting a shirt on like he really needed to, he looked around for a first aid kit. An older woman stood in the corner with a little girl who looked about two or three. She had dark brown hair the same color as—
I didn’t know his name.
“I’m Amanda,” I said. “Amanda Scott.”
But the tall man with the throbbing muscles and the tanned skin didn’t do anything but take my leg in his hands.
“Do you have a name?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“Are you going to share it with me?”
“Nope.”
“Fine. I’ll call you Dan.”
His eyes flickered up toward me, but he made no move to tell me anything about himself.
“Thank you for saving me, Dan. It was very kind of you.”
I watched as he slipped the shoe off my foot before he rolled my sock down.
“What are you doing?”
I tried to take my leg away from him, but instead of getting very far I only winced at the pain that shot up my leg.
“You done?” he asked.
“You going to tell me your name?”
“Will it get you to stay still so I can patch you up properly?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Brian.”
“Do you have a last name?”
“No,” he said.
“Murphy,” the little girl said.
My eyes peeked over his shoulder to the small girl standing across the room as his head whipped around.
“Hush, Lanie,” Brian said. “What have I told you about talking to strangers?”
“Don’t do it until you’re here,” she said.
“Sounds like she’s got ya there,” I said, grinning.
Panning his gaze back to me, he propped my foot against his chest. The wet warmth of his skin sent goosebumps up my skin as I sighed. I clenched my body, trying not to shudder as I curled my toes into his muscles. My body wanted to feel any part of him he would allow me as my tits stood at attention behind the material of my bra. What the hell was wrong with me?
I watched as Brian took out some antiseptic and a pair of tweezers. I knew exactly what he was gunning for first, and I tried to pry my leg away. His eyes flew up to mine as his hand came down onto my foot, steadying his hold on me as my eyes began to water.
“I’ll make it quick,” he said.
One by one, he plucked every splinter out from beneath my skin. Some I couldn’t feel at all, while others hurt like hell, but not once did his hand let up from my foot. His touch was strong. Commanding and domineering. But it wasn’t forceful, like my ex’s. He wasn’t trying to control my movements, he was only trying to steady them.
Tossing the tweezers into the sink, he took out some alcohol wipes. With every swipe he took, my leg jumped. Pain shot up my thigh and I hissed and bit back curses, trying not to startle the little girl in the corner. I saw the nanny trying to hurry her out of the room as a tear rolled down my cheek, but the little girl was pitching a fit every time she was moved.
“Leave her be, Tanya. The crying’s distracting.”
My leg jumped as Brian rolled over a deep gash and his hardened gaze flickered up to mine.
“And so is that,” he said.
“Sorry, it hurts.”
“Then don’t go walking on wood that looks unstable.”
“I had no idea it was unstable,” I said.
“Shining a simple light on it would’ve told you everything you needed to know.”
“Oh? And how’s that?” I asked.
“If it’s splintering from the floor, it’s not to be walked on,” he said.
Fuck. Like the splinters on the front porch I had seen as I walked up.
He tossed the bloodied alcohol wipes into the sink as well then grabbed gauze and an ace bandage. He layered some sort of goopy solution on my shin, causing me to wince as I tried not to jump.
He wrapped up my leg and then offered me some Tylenol and a glass of water.
“You good?” he asked as he took the glass from me.
“I think so, yes.”
“Good. Can you walk?”
I jumped down from the kitchen counter as his arms reached out to catch me. I collapsed against him, hissing as pain shot up through my knee. I’d really done a number on my shin , which meant I wasn’t going to be able to clean the house like I’d planned.
And how the hell was I going to afford to repair that damn staircase?
“Yep. I can walk,” I said.
“Doesn’t look like it,” Brian argued.
“Would you put on a damn shirt, please?” I asked.
His eyes locked hard onto mine before he turned his head toward the little girl in the corner. I sighed before I mumbled an apology, then began limping over to the doorway.
I needed to get back to the cabin and figure out what the hell my next move was going to be. I’d had enough in savings to last me three months, but now that the cabin would need extensive repairs, I had no idea how I was going to make it livable on what I had.
I was feeling overwhelmed, and I was ready to leave.
“I’m Lanie,” said a little voice.
“Lanie, back up,” Brian said.
My watery gaze drifted over to the child in the corner as she came up to me.
“Hello, Lanie. I’m Amanda,” I said.
“I hear with my ears,” she said.
“That’s good. What do you do with your eyes?” I asked.
I could feel everyone’s eyes on me as a smile broke out across Lanie’s chubby little cheeks.
“See!” she said.
“Good girl.”
I turned toward the door, but I was halted in my tracks by a small little tug at my jeans.
“Lanie, let her go,” Brian said, sternly.
“Food?” Lanie asked.
My eyes looked over to her nanny who was now scurrying to her side.
“Let’s get you something to eat,” she said.
“No. Amanda food,” Lanie said.
“Are you asking me if I’m hungry?” I asked.
“I think she is,” the nanny said.
“Tanya, right?” I asked, recalling the name Brian had used when he’d spoken to her.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“No ‘ma’am’ necessary,” I said, smiling. “I have food back at my place,” I lied. It was clear Brian didn’t want me here, and though he was nice to look at, he was kind of a cocky asshole.
“Food with us?” Lanie asked.
“No.”
Brian’s voice was stern and caused me to jump. It was a tone of voice I’d heard many times when I was with Daryl. That tone of voice that spoke of controlling intent and disapproval. Hearing that tone drip from Brian’s lips only fueled the anger that bubbled in my gut whenever I thought of that pathetic bastard.
“How about this?” I asked as I looked at Lanie. “When I get my cabin repaired, you can come over anytime you want, and I’ll cook us something.”
“Pancakes?” Lanie asked.
“That’s enough, sweetheart,” Tanya said.
“If that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get,” I said.
“Pinky?”
The little girl held out her pinky finger, and my eyes drifted up to Brian. There was a storm of emotion rolling over his face. Anger and apprehension and sadness. There was a wall coming up over his entire face that set it in stone. His brow was furrowed with a deeply-set frustration that made me curious about him.
What was a man with a child doing on a mountaintop that had nothing to enrich a child at all?
“Pinky promise,” I said.
I reached down to link the little girl’s finger, and she smiled broadly. She let go of my pants and allowed me to leave the house, her eyes following me as I left. I hobbled down the porch steps and began limping back toward the cabin.
My mind started running through all the things I could do to make it better before I had to get creative.
I looked back at Brian’s home and saw Lanie standing on the porch. Tanya was behind her, holding the little girl close to her side. Lanie was waving with a big smile on her face that warmed my heart.
But Brian was standing inside, watching me from his kitchen window. I could tell by the set of his broad, sculpted shoulders that my mere presence had made him uncomfortable. I couldn’t help but be intrigued as to what his story might be. I highly doubted I’d ever find out though, that man was as guarded as they came.
I had to figure out what to do about the cabin. How I was going to get it fixed? It was rundown, and it needed a great deal of love and care. It would take going into town and pricing out some things to figure out how much money would need to be spent on my end, but I could no longer think straight with my stomach as empty as it was.
I grabbed my purse from the house, threw open some windows to let out the dust, then got into my car and went into town.
I needed food, quiet, and some time to think.
CHAPTER 4
Brian
I hated going into town. People around here were too friendly for their own good. If I could’ve found a way to have groceries delivered every two weeks, I’d never come into town. But food was necessary and between the things I ate and the things Lanie needed, I could only shove two weeks’ worth of stuff in my refrigerator.
“Grocery store!” Lanie said.
“Yes. Every two weeks,” I said.
“Ice cream?” she asked
“If you’re a good girl, we’ll get you some, yes.”
“And chips?”
“You can have ice cream or chips, but not both.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because you’ll get a tummy ache.”
“But you rub tummies,” she said.
“Only yours, and only when it hurts. But you don’t want it to hurt, do you?”
“Will you rub my tummy anyway?”
“How about I scratch your back?” I asked. “Like I do whenever you go to sleep?”
“That’s sleepy scratch. I’m not sleepy.”
“You’re not, huh?” I asked, grinning. “Well, what about this. If you’re good at the grocery store, I’ll rub your belly while we’re standing in line waiting to check out.”
“But ice cream?” she asked.
“You just want everything, don’t you?”
“Yes!”
Chuckling, I placed her in the grocery cart. We needed to stock up on everything. Toilet paper, toothpaste, diapers and wipes. We needed fresh vegetables to go with the deer I’d shot last week, and I was out of all the spices I used for my chili. I walked up and down the aisles as I grabbed things, and Lanie giggled as she tossed random boxes of food into the cart. Crackers and dental floss. Cereal I knew she’d never eat and dried cranberries. She tossed them in and giggled profusely like she was getting away with something she knew she wasn’t supposed to be doing.
