Lola chuckled. “I can’t wait to hear that story. Call me when you get home.”
“I will.” Miranda glanced up at him again. “Okay, Travis. I’m ready whenever you are.”
He drove her down to the emergency entrance, parking the wheelchair inside the sliding glass doors. The weather had warmed up even further, and the ice was melting rapidly.
“Great,” Miranda grumbled. “Just what we need. More water.”
Travis stifled a laugh. She certainly had a one-track mind when it came to rain. “Better wait here while I go get the truck.”
“I can walk,” she protested. “No one said anything about not walking.”
“Yes, but that doctor told you to take it easy for a few days, and I had to go a long way to find a parking space.”
Although he suspected she would’ve argued about it under normal circumstances, like riding in the wheelchair, she seemed to accept it and waved him on. “I’ll wait right here.”
Travis set off at a brisk pace, hoping she wasn’t in too much pain, and also wondering why she kept downplaying the fact that they were lovers. He felt like shouting it to the world. Still, she’d been pretty embarrassed when she left for the barn. He wanted to kick himself for letting her go alone.
I would pick one that’s too independent for her own damn good.
Even so, he wouldn’t change a thing about her. She’d been badly hurt and had yet to shed a single tear. Smiling to himself, he realized something else. He was proud of her. She was tough, resilient, and one absolutely incredible lover. His balls tingled at the memory.
Of all the times to get hot and bothered…
Miranda watched Travis walk away, only then allowing herself to fully acknowledge the pain. About the only part of her that didn’t hurt was her left arm, and she was very glad he’d talked her into waiting for him. Thank God he’d been there to drive her to the hospital—although, if she’d been alone, she might have stayed home and saved the insurance company a little money. She was happy to have the time off from work, though. If nothing else, getting that doctor’s statement made the trip worthwhile.
Taking care of the horses would be the tough part. Although Travis had said he would feed them, she doubted he would actually be willing to drive back and forth to her farm twice a day. It would’ve been different if his house was right across the road, but she had absolutely no idea where he lived. Even so, as bad as she felt, she was willing to take him up on his offer—regardless of any inconvenience to him.
No, that isn’t the reason.
Her accident had nothing to do with it. She wasn’t totally incapacitated, and if she had to, she could do the chores herself. It was the fact that Travis was the one offering his assistance that made her willing to accept it. Having him visit twice a day was worth a few broken ribs. Still, she saw no reason to let herself get soft and vowed not to let him do anything that wasn’t strictly necessary.
As he drove up to the loading dock, she got to her feet, amazed at how stiff her knee had become in the short time she’d been sitting in the wheelchair. He’d pulled up close to the curb, but when she opened the door and put her left foot on the running board, her right knee wobbled painfully, threatening to give way beneath her.
Travis hopped out of the truck. “Will you hold on a second and let me help you?”
She shook her head. “I should be able to get up there by myself.”
Ignoring her protest, he gave her a boost into the seat. “That’s why I’m here, dear. And don’t worry, I won’t think any less of you for being a wuss.” Closing the door, he went around to the other side and climbed into the driver’s seat.
“I am not a wuss.”
Her indignant reply only made him laugh. “I know that, but right now, being a wuss is understandable. I saw the x-rays.”
She blew out a sigh. “I don’t know if I can stand to sit around and vegetate for two weeks. I’ll go nuts.”
“I promise to keep you well entertained.” His wicked smile and sly wink made her wonder just what sort of entertainment he had in mind. Oh, surely not….
“Don’t you have to work?”
“Yes, but my schedule is pretty light this time of year. It would be different if it was the middle of show season. I’m booked solid then.” He paused, his concern evident in his frown. “I don’t like seeing you like this. Just this morning you were—”
“Were, what?” Beyond a vague recollection that her horses had been talking to her, Miranda didn’t remember very much about the state of her health that morning. “I mean, other than the fact that I probably had unscrambled brains and no broken bones.”
With an odd little grin, he reached over and buckled her seat belt. “You seemed perfectly fine to me.” He started the engine. “How about I take you home, run the backhoe over to my brother, and then come back? Do you need me to pick up anything on the way?”
She shook her head. “I went to the grocery yesterday. And don’t worry. I managed to keep going with a concussion and my leg in a brace once before. I’m sure I can do it again.”
This time his frown displayed more annoyance than concern. “Aren’t you taking this independent woman thing a little too far?”
“I live alone, Travis. It’s not like I have much of a choice.”
Scowling, he took a deep breath and remained silent for a few seconds, leaving her to suspect that he’d counted to ten before opening his mouth. “I’m not denying you your independence, but I am supposed to check on you every two hours. Remember?”
She grimaced. “Oh, yeah, right…forgot about that.”
“Apparently.” He still seemed irritated, which was odd for a man who was usually smiling. Then again, she’d been surprised the night before when he’d claimed to be unhappy.
Which proves how little I know about him.
“Look, I’m sorry for being such a pain. I just don’t like the idea of putting you to so much trouble.”
If anything, this seemed to increase his irritation. “Do you really think I consider taking care of you as trouble?”
Anyone else would’ve considered it a royal pain in the ass. Obviously he had a different opinion. She threw up her hands in surrender. “Okay, you win. If you insist on being my caretaker, then so be it.”
“And after a week or so, we’ll reevaluate your, um, need for me.” His slow, suggestive smile and the flick of his brow made those innocent words seem strangely seductive.
Miranda stared at him, convinced she couldn’t possibly have read that correctly. Then again, there had been that funny little wink a moment ago…
My brains must be more scrambled than I thought.
Mentally reviewing the events of the morning, she couldn’t recall a single thing that would’ve explained it. She’d been nervous as hell, had made breakfast for him, and then went to feed the horses. But before that, Levi had called, which was when Travis figured out she wasn’t married.
Was that all it took? Surely there would have to be more to it than that. Was it something she’d missed or something she’d forgotten? She wasn’t about to ask him to explain. That would be much too embarrassing, especially if romance was as far from his mind as it ought to have been. In the end, she simply agreed and tried to settle in for the drive home.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t find a comfortable position, nor would her befuddled brain leave her in peace. She recalled her intention to tell Travis how she felt about him, but had she actually done it? He hadn’t protested when her friends had assumed he was her boyfriend, and he was acting very strangely. Did he really consider himself as her new love interest? With that spin on it, his behavior made more sense.
There was no reason for him to pretend. Being the “significant other” of a patient in the ER allowed him to stay in the room, but that was about it. Besides, she’d told Denise he could stay, even after denying any romantic involvement with him. The only reason Rodney had asked him to step out of the room was to limit his exposure to radiation.
Granted, Denise had said there was no heat in the waiting room, but he wouldn’t pretend to be her boyfriend simply because of that, would he?
Should she come right out and ask him if they were dating now? She’d talked herself into telling him the truth before, and even then, she’d had nothing to lose—although she did have something to lose now. She’d lose his help for the next several few days, and whether she cared to admit it or not, she was lucky to have it.
The best she could do now was to follow his lead and see where it took them. If he continued to seem interested in romance, she certainly wouldn’t complain. After all, she’d had the hots for him for months. Having him return those feelings would be a dream come true. She simply didn’t want to risk jumping to any conclusions that would make her look like an opportunistic cougar.
Still, she did have a bona fide excuse for odd behavior, at least for the time being. Almost anything could be explained by the concussion or the pain—and it wouldn’t be far from the truth.
All she had to do was be nice and not fuss at him when he tried to help out. Unfortunately, that attitude was a bit out of character for her and might make him suspicious. He might even be suspicious already.
Be yourself, Miranda.
There was only one problem with that. She wasn’t completely sure who that person was anymore.
Chapter 15
Travis parked the truck as close to Miranda’s doorstep as possible, set the brake, and unbuckled her seat belt. “Do me a favor and wait for me this time?”
Lowering her head, she grumbled a bit before replying, “Don’t worry, I will.”
He got out and opened the passenger side door, then helped her turn to face him. Her dogs were milling around, obviously anxious to see her. He looped her arm around his shoulder. “Try to land on your left foot.”
“That’s my plan.” Nevertheless, she yelped as he slid her off the seat. Shifting his hold on her, he held her steady for a moment before starting toward the porch. Fortunately, there were only two steps and she took them one at a time, leaning against him while putting most of her weight on her left foot.
“At least I’ve got one good arm and leg—although the left side of my butt hurts as much as the right, and I didn’t even fall on that side—at least, I don’t think I did. Weird, huh?”
Travis could think of at least one reason why her hips might be sore, but opted to suggest a possible cause that was a little less provocative. “Must be from sitting in the truck for so long.”
“Probably. My knee is really stiff, too.” A sidelong glance accompanied her tight smile. “I’m pretty sure I can make it from here. You can let go of me now.”
“Not a chance,” he said. “If I didn’t think it would hurt you even more, I’d carry you.”
Her attempt at a chuckle came out as more of a gasp as she clutched her side. “You’re such a sweet boy, taking care of a banged-up old woman like this.”
Travis suspected that was the concussion talking rather than Miranda, but he went along with the game anyway. “Aw, shucks, ma’am. It’s no trouble at all.”
He helped her across the threshold and into the house and gave her a gentle hug. To his delight, she kissed him on the neck, filling him with warm, fuzzy feelings that somehow managed to settle right in his dick. He gave her another squeeze. “That’s my girl. Now, let’s get you out of this coat.”
He held her left sleeve while she pulled her arm out of it, then carefully pushed her coat off of her right arm.
She was panting by the time they’d finished. “How did we ever get this thing on me?”
“No clue.” He tossed her coat over the chair by the door. “Do you want to go to bed or sit on the couch or what?”
“I think I’ll just have a seat in the kitchen. I seem to feel better sitting straight up than I do lying down. Besides, I’m not sure I could take another step if my life depended on it.”
She looked exhausted—the lines around her eyes were more evident than usual, and her face had gone pale—so he didn’t argue, simply pulled out a chair and eased her down onto it. “Better?”
She heaved a sigh of relief. “Much.”
“Would you like to change into your nightgown? You might be more comfortable.”
She glanced down at her clothes with a grimace. “None too clean, am I? I’d at least like to get out of this bra. The underwire is sitting on my broken ribs.”
“No problem.” He went around the table and retrieved her gown from where he’d tossed it earlier that morning. Odd that he’d be putting it on her now, rather than taking it off. Undressing her had been much easier then—and certainly less painful. He tried to be gentle, but even pulling up the back of her shirt and unhooking her bra made her gasp. “You okay?”
“Oh, yeah.” Her shoulders sank as she visibly relaxed. “Much better. You have no idea. Thank you.”
“Ready for the nightie?”
She nodded. “Just strip me down and throw it on me.”
With the image of her sprawled naked on the table still fresh in his mind, the urge to act on that suggestion was overwhelming. Even so, he was fairly certain she hadn’t meant it literally.
Must be the concussion talking again.
“I can do better than that.” Kneeling down, he pulled off her boots and socks, then helped her stand and slipped off her jeans. He’d have liked to dispense with her panties, as well—his original plan to suck her tits and eat her pussy when she came back from the barn was still on his to do list—but under the circumstances he thought it best to leave them on.
Standing behind her, he pulled her shirt off over her head, gathered up her gown, and dropped it around her neck. “I’ll let you take it from there.” No way was he going to take off her bra. The compulsion to do more than simply gaze at her fabulous boobs would be too much to resist.
“Slippers,” he muttered. “You had on slippers… Ah, there they are.” He had no clue how they’d wound up under the table, but then, he hadn’t been concerned with footwear at the time.
“You know, for a non-nurse, you’re doing pretty well,” she said as he slipped them on her feet. “You must’ve taken care of sick old women before.”
“Now, Miranda,” he chided. “You’re not sick and you’re not old. You’re injured.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Same difference. I certainly feel like someone’s sick grandmother.”
“Yeah, well, trust me, you don’t look it.” Generally speaking, grandmothers didn’t make his dick hard, whereas Miranda could do it without even trying. “I’ll put some more wood in the stove before I leave.”
“That’d be great.”
While he built up the fire, Miranda’s cat strolled over and rubbed against his leg. He paused to pet her before adjusting the dampers. Getting to his feet, he went back in the kitchen. “What’s the cat’s name?”
“Jade. I named her for the color of her eyes.”
“Nice cat,” he remarked. “Very friendly.”
“She loves to sit by the stove—probably considers anyone who’ll keep the fire going to be a worthwhile human being.”
He glanced down at Jade, who was staring at him again. “Never knew cats were that easy.” If only it were as simple with Miranda. True, they’d had wild monkey sex on the kitchen table that morning, but something told him that episode was only the first hurdle. “Can I get you anything before I go? A cup of tea, maybe? I won’t be gone long.”
She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Take your time and be careful.”
While he appreciated her concern for his safety, he’d have felt a hell of a lot better if she’d told him to hurry back. “I will.”
* * * *
Miranda would’ve stayed right where he left her if she hadn’t been in serious need of a potty break. Drawing in a fortifying breath, she braced her hands on the table and hoisted herself out of the chair, then shuffled down the hall to the bathroom, making full use of the chairs, doorjambs, and wainscoting along the way.<
br />
While there, she made the mistake of glancing at herself in the mirror. The huge, bloody bump on the right side of her head made her look like something out of a zombie movie. Denise had cleaned off most of the blood, but a cut that hadn’t been deep enough to warrant stitches was still oozing.
At least I don’t have a black eye. Yet…
Pulling up her gown, she inspected her ribs, finding a nasty-looking bruise, but no open areas. The knee wasn’t too bad—only bruised and skinned. However, when she leaned over the sink to rinse the blood out of her hair, a bout of dizziness forced her to abandon the attempt. After popping some ibuprofen, she went back to the kitchen.
While brewing a pot of tea, she nibbled on a leftover biscuit. Someone—she wasn’t sure who—had put them in a plastic bag. She couldn’t remember doing it herself, and it didn’t seem like the sort of thing a man would do, although Travis could have done it. He’d already surprised her several times, and the day wasn’t over yet.
As promised, she gave Lola a call, regretting it almost immediately.
“That was the guy from the Christmas party, wasn’t it?” Lola asked, sounding simultaneously suggestive and accusing.
Miranda had hoped she’d forgotten. “Um, yeah.”
“I thought he was dating your friend Christina. What happened with that?”
Nope. Nothing wrong with her memory. “Not much. Apparently, I really suck at matchmaking. She thought he was boring, and he was convinced they had nothing in common.”
“So you decided to keep him for yourself?”
If only it were that simple. “Not exactly. He offered to dig a ditch around my barn and wound up having to spend the night because of the freezing rain. He was here when I fell, so he drove me to the hospital—and that’s all. Honest.”
Lola snorted a laugh. “It didn’t seem that way to me. He sure acted guilty when I questioned him about getting dressed—like he’d really had to get dressed, if you know what I mean. He seemed sort of possessive, too—the way a man is with a woman he’s staked a claim on.”
Unbridled (Unlikely Lovers) Page 12
