by A. J. Pine
She smiled and moved back into position, her hands on his bare shoulders as he leaned against her torso once more.
Carter pulled on a pair of blue nitrile gloves and went to work cleaning the blood from Sam’s face.
She let out a breath. Even from her vantage point, she could tell the swelling was minimal. His nose wasn’t crooked. All good signs. But she needed Carter’s seal of approval.
Carter shone a penlight up each nostril, then at each of Sam’s eyes.
“Okay,” he said. “Now for the part you’re not going to like.”
Sam nodded once. “I’m ready when you are.”
Carter started by placing a hand on either side of Sam’s head, then pressed his thumbs against his cheeks and under his eyes. He did the same to each side of Sam’s nose as well as the bridge.
Sam gritted his teeth and hissed in a breath when Carter hit a particular spot on the bridge under his left eye.
“Right hook, huh?” he said to Delaney, brows raised. “Nice shot.”
“Um, thanks?” she said.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Anyone want to tell me how much damage that nice shot did?”
Carter grinned. “I see no obstructions inside. How’s your breathing?”
Sam sucked in a careful breath through his nose. “A little congested on the left side, but I can still breathe.”
Carter removed and disposed of his gloves, then crossed his arms. “It’s not broken. Everything looks good. The bleeding has stopped, and you can breathe. The tender spot on the left doesn’t feel like anything is out of place, so my money is on contusion rather than fracture. You can head to the ER if you want a second opinion. Put some ice on it, ten to twenty minutes a pop, every hour or two. Pick your favorite over-the-counter pain med, and maybe snag yourself Sudafed if the congestion is bothering you.” He glanced up at Delaney. “Can I count on you to make sure he does all this and doesn’t head straight back to work, at least for the rest of the day?”
Delaney nodded, unable to wipe the relieved grin from her face. “You have my word.”
Carter narrowed his eyes at Sam. “Do I have your word, Callahan? I can shoot a call over to Ben and Colt to make sure they don’t see you in the stable, the arena…Heck, I don’t even want you in the dining hall because you’re likely to get bent out of shape about something Luis did or Ben didn’t do.”
It sounded as though everyone in town knew Sam Callahan was a twenty-four-hour rancher. She wasn’t happy she’d hurt him, but maybe this would give him a chance to take a second to breathe.
“He’s really got you pegged,” she said.
Sam stood and crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Are we done here?”
Carter stood and mirrored Sam’s gesture. “As soon as you tell me you’re going home to rest.”
Sam groaned. “I’m going home to rest.”
Carter smiled. “That’s all I wanted to hear. I’ll text you to check in tomorrow.” He looked at his watch. “But I am officially not on duty anymore, which means I get to go see my girl.”
“Say hi to Ivy for me,” Delaney said. “We met just before I came here.”
“Will do,” he said. “It was nice to meet you, Delaney. Hope we’ll see more of you this week.”
He left Sam and Delaney alone in the kitchen, an awkward silence stretching between them. Sam washed his hands and face at the sink, wincing as he patted himself dry with a paper towel. She still stood behind the chair, not sure what their next move was. Maybe she’d butted in when she shouldn’t have. Maybe he did just need some space.
“Give me a lift back to the ranch? Actually, I should probably drive your truck anyway,” she said. “Then I’ll let you be.”
His brow furrowed as he strode back toward her. “You walked here? Looking for me?”
“Is that so hard to believe?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I should have shown up for lunch like I said I would. I’m sorry I left you stranded.”
She smiled and reached toward him, resting a hand gently on his cheek. “I’m sorry I almost broke your nose.”
“What if…” He paused. “I’m really not good at this.”
“Good at what?” she asked.
He blew out a long breath. “Letting someone care about me. Wanting someone to care about me.”
Her throat tightened. All she’d asked for was for him to be vulnerable with her. But now that she got her wish, it made her chest ache. She could give him ice for his nose, a couple of pills for the physical pain. But whatever he was working through today, she couldn’t fix. Yet all she wanted right now was to do just that.
Her hand slid from his cheek to his shoulder, then down his arm until she laced her fingers with his.
“I care,” she said softly.
He nodded and squeezed her hand. “Then maybe I don’t want you to let me be.”
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I want you to take us back to your place,” he said. “If you want that too.”
“I do,” she said, a weight lifting from her chest. “I really, really do.”
Chapter Ten
Sam let Delaney drive the truck, which was the surest sign he wasn’t himself. No one got behind the wheel of Revolver when he was in the vehicle other than him.
“You wait here,” she said when she parked in front of the Rite Aid outside of town—the only place nearby that was actually open. Her tone was authoritative and stern.
He reclined his seat and closed his eyes. “I’m not arguing with you, Vegas. There should be a tote bag or two in the back of the cab.” His T-shirt was in the back of the cab, too, but he was too worn out to bother pulling it back on. “Plus—no shirt, no service.”
She laughed. “Glad I didn’t knock your sense of humor out of you.”
He smiled but didn’t say anything else. His head throbbed. No, his whole face throbbed.
Even though he could tell she was trying to do it softly, he still flinched when the driver’s side door shut. Noise was definitely not his friend at the moment.
He shook his head and chuckled.
Delaney Harper.
Yesterday he was doing fine, running full speed ahead at whatever life threw at him, whether it was Luis and his dangerous crush on Anna, or his brother skipping out on yet another night on duty. He was stressed, overextended, and exhausted, but he was fine. As long as he kept moving, he didn’t worry about the big picture of his life, only what needed to be done next.
Now he was laid up in the passenger seat of his truck with an ice pack over his face and too much time to think about his father’s episode that morning—and what it meant as far as the big picture. Because despite his best intentions, he hadn’t obliterated the experience with hours at the speed bag.
He added yesterday’s wasp sting to the list. Not that he was keeping score, but if he was, the wasp sting totally counted.
At every single turn, since the moment she stepped onto his property—or was it their property?—Delaney had disrupted the status quo by exponential proportions. And he hadn’t even told Ben and Colt who she was or why she was really in town.
He squeezed his eyes harder, trying to shut out thoughts that only made his head pound more. Maybe she had disrupted his life, but despite what happened in the boxing ring, all he wanted right now was to be in Delaney Harper’s presence. Something about the nearness of her did what the speed bag couldn’t. She didn’t solve all his problems, but she somehow made them feel less like they were going to swallow him whole. He simply wanted more of whatever it was she did to him.
“How ya doing, sleepyhead?” he heard from a voice that sounded a lot like Delaney’s.
“Huh?” he cracked one eye open and saw her situating herself in the driver’s seat. She tossed one tote bag on the floor behind her, dropped another one on his lap, and set a bottle of water in the center console cup holder. Whatever was in the bag was cold as ice.
“I’ve been gone fifteen minutes. You must ha
ve fallen asleep. I think I even see a bit of drool…”
He swiped a hand across his mouth. “I was not drooling.” But he also hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep, which meant that even when he was unconscious he was thinking about Delaney Harper.
She grinned. “I know, but I made you think you were.”
He straightened his seat and looked inside the bag.
“I bought myself a few necessaries to get me through the next few days. For you, I got some ibuprofen and a decongestant, just like Carter suggested. Also a couple of bags of frozen peas since I don’t have any ice packs. The decongestant might speed up your heart rate though. So I’d wait on that if you can. You could probably use a nap.”
He grunted. “I said I’d rest. But I’m not in kindergarten.”
She shrugged. “Suit yourself, but once we get to my room, I’m not letting you off the bed. I mean…shoot, you know what I mean.”
“Whatever you say, Vegas.”
A blush traveled up her neck and into her cheeks.
He hadn’t meant to flirt, but then he didn’t regret that he had. Despite the physical injuries he’d sustained since Delaney Harper blew into town and the reason she was here to begin with, he was finding it harder and harder to fight the pull he felt whenever she was near.
He lowered the visor, realizing he’d yet to assess the damage for himself. The skin under his left eye was starting to purple, and the bridge of his nose was noticeably swollen, but he’d seen worse.
He sat back and caught Delaney glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.
“I know,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. “It’s already bruising. I can’t believe I did that to you.”
He slapped the visor shut and rested his head against his seat. “I’m just glad you were wearing gloves. Hopefully you’ll be gentler with me when we get back to your place,” he teased.
She shook her head and reversed out of the parking spot but didn’t respond. Maybe she was done fighting the pull too.
He popped a couple of pain relievers in his mouth and washed them down with the water, following them up with a Sudafed because the swelling was making it harder to breathe.
“You really do have a nice hook,” he said, breaking the silence once they’d made it out onto the road. “You want to elaborate on why you box so well?”
She swallowed, and her throat bobbed.
“It’s good exercise. Isn’t that why you do it?” Her tone was light, but it sounded forced, and he knew she was as full of shit as he’d be if he said yes.
“Sure. But it also clears my head,” he admitted. “Sometimes, like today, it takes a little longer to get clear.”
She blew out a breath. “I guess after the whole knife thing yesterday and almost breaking your nose today, I owe you a little more of an explanation.”
He shrugged. “You don’t owe me anything, Vegas. What happened today was an accident, but we’ve got fifteen minutes before we’re back in Meadow Valley. I might not be the best at talking, but I sure as heck can listen.”
Her cheeks reddened again, but he knew this wasn’t an embarrassed flush, not when he saw her jaw tighten and her shoulders tense.
She cleared her throat. “Before we got the idea to crowdfund the shelter, Wade used to deal with more face-to-face investors.”
Sam groaned. “You mean loan sharks?”
She nodded. “I didn’t know the first time he got involved with one—not until everything fell through and he came home from a ‘meeting’ with a split lip.” She put air quotes around meeting. “And when I flipped, he apologized backward and forward saying he’d learned his lesson and that he’d never deal with anyone like that again. His next venture was being a silent partner in his buddy’s food truck business. He even showed me the loan documents that were in Theo’s name. The guy was a real good cook too. Gourmet tacos.” She let out a bitter laugh. “At least I didn’t lose my love of tacos.” She paused for a few moments.
“Food truck went belly-up?” he asked.
“Yup. And that’s when we left town. I wanted to move north where even if it’s one hundred and ten in the summer, I might actually see snow come December.”
His shoulders tensed now because he knew what was coming next. But he wouldn’t interrupt her again.
She gripped the steering wheel tighter, her knuckles growing white.
“You know about the crowdfunding, so there was no one shady involved. We put a down payment on the property. Dr. Murphy was on board to volunteer his services. Everything was lining up. After barely six weeks in the new place, we got a knock on the door one night.” She shrugged. “It’s a small town, good reputation. I thought nothing of it. Until three guys barged in, pushed me out of the way, and messed Wade up really badly.”
She pulled onto the outskirts of the ranch’s property, but she still wouldn’t spare him a glance. It was probably a good thing. Because he was seething at the thought of anyone laying a hand on her.
“Did they hurt you?” he asked, afraid of the answer.
She shook her head as they came to a stop in front of the guest quarters. Then she swiped a finger under her eye.
“They held me back and made me watch. Said if he didn’t come up with what they owed him that I’d be next.”
She finally turned to face him, tears pooling in both eyes.
“He must have shown me fake papers for the food truck—something he probably printed from the internet—and I was stupid enough to believe him. I mean, he was my husband. There were good things about him. I like to think I wasn’t that naive, but…”
“And the money for the shelter?” Sam asked.
She let out a bitter laugh. “I was actually worried about him, about what they did to him. But he managed to empty our account while he was getting stitched up in the ER without breathing a word of it to me.” She laughed. “Gotta love online banking.”
Sam reached for her hand, wanting to do something to make this better even though he knew he couldn’t. She shook her head. “I put myself through school. I put together what would have been that shelter. I’m not anyone’s damsel in distress.” She forced a smile. “Unless, of course, wasps are involved. Or my broken-down car. I let him rescue me from a life where I felt stuck. I thought I needed someone to be my reason to leave Las Vegas and chase a dream. But despite how things might look, I can take care of myself. That’s why I started training at a gym when I went back home. If anyone ever busted through my door like that again, I was going to be ready and able to kick some serious butt. It’s why I’m counting every penny. And it’s why the second I learned what Wade did, I drove all night without exactly thinking through what I’d do once I got here.”
He crossed the invisible boundary between them and cupped her cheek in his palm, ready to retreat if she wanted him to. But when he pressed his skin to hers, she leaned into his touch. He couldn’t articulate what it felt like imagining her opening that door, those men scaring and threatening her. He wanted to tell her what he would have done if he were there. How he would treat her if she’d chosen him as the person to trust with her life. But this wasn’t about him.
“Vegas,” he said with the utmost certainty. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re quite capable of kicking some serious ass. I speak from very recent experience.”
She laughed, even as another tear fell. “Thank you for listening. I never told my parents or sister the whole story. I guess that’s the first time I said it all out loud.”
His brows drew together. “Why?”
She shrugged. “It’s humiliating—how blinded I was by this supposed knight in shining armor. I trusted him and fell for his BS more than once. Guess it’s easier to tell a stranger than those who know me best.”
He tucked her hair behind her ear. “You think a man can’t know a woman after only a couple of days?” It had barely been that long, yet now he couldn’t imagine not knowing her.
“Then I guess it’s your lucky week beca
use you’ve got a whole handful of days to get to know me better, whether you want to or not.”
He grinned. “I guess you’re right.” Lucky was not the word he would have used when she showed up two days ago. But he wasn’t so sure anymore.
Her room was small—only enough space for a bed, nightstand, and dresser—but tidy. They didn’t have a maid service at the ranch. Part of the rustic feel of the place was taking care of your own quarters. Plus, it just wasn’t in their budget to hire anyone else. But each room got clean towels and sheets upon request. There was also a washer and dryer on the main floor, free of charge. Every time a room was vacated, they’d send one of their stable hands in to vacuum and give the place a once-over, but during anyone’s stay, the room was the guest’s responsibility. So far it had worked out well.
Sam glanced down at his bare torso and remembered how long he’d been at the speed bag. “Mind if I use your shower?” he asked. An unexpected yawn punctuated his question.
She raised a brow. “Sure you don’t want that nap first?”
“I’m not tired.” He was exhausted. But also stubborn as heck, not that he’d admit it out loud. “But I am pretty dirty.”
She pointed toward the bathroom’s open doorway. “It’s all yours.”
“Vegas?”
“Yeah?”
“I have a confession to make.” He blew out a breath. Here went nothing. Or everything. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you for two days now, and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to stop thinking about kissing you until I know what I missed out on because of that damned storm.”
She stared at him, and he watched her chest rise and fall with each breath she took. It was a risk just to say the words, to admit what he wanted. What would they be risking if they acted on what he guessed they both were feeling?
She fidgeted with the material of her dress.
“I still want my half of the land,” she said.
He nodded. “I know.” Once it was rightfully hers—and he had no doubt it would be—it would mean dismantling property and rebuilding, neither of which he had the time or money to do. Yet it didn’t change him wanting—no, needing—to kiss her. The sooner the better.
