Grace grinned.
A deep yell came from within the woods. Grace jumped, clutching her shears in both hands. It only took a fraction of a second for Sloan to see the fear in her eyes.
“Shade, come back,” a male voice echoed across the yard.
Sloan turned, just as a streak of black raced past him. The bounding black lab raced up the steps and slammed into Grace, knocking her to the ground.
“Get off her.” Sloan grabbed the eager beast by its collar and hauled it off Grace. He knelt beside her, his heart pounding in his chest like a jackhammer.
“Are you okay?” He helped her sit up.
“I’m fine.” She batted his hand away as he brushed her hair out of her eyes.
“Shade, come here.” Greg, the shaggy-haired teen and owner of the dog, jogged over to the steps.
Sloan helped Grace to her feet and shot Greg a glare.
“Sorry, Sloan, he got away from me.” Greg clipped the leash on the dog’s collar and gave him an apologetic look.
Sloan didn’t loosen his hold on Grace’s waist. “You need to keep that dog on a leash, Greg. I’ve told you that a million times.”
“I can’t do that, Sloan. He’s a water dog. How’s he going to learn to fetch up a duck with a leash on his neck?” Greg huffed, looking every bit his eighteen years.
“Wait. You were in my pond?” Grace looked from Greg back to him.
“Yes.” Sloan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Greg, you can’t use that pond anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because Grace bought this house along with the property, which includes the pond.”
“So?”
“You’re trespassing.”
“We’ve always used the pond. Hell, everyone in town has.” Greg narrowed his eyes at Grace as if she were to blame.
“Watch your language.” Sloan took a step forward. Greg was just a kid. He didn’t mean any harm, but his lack of respect for Grace irritated him. “Go home. And put that damn dog on a leash.”
“Fine.” Greg hung his head. “Come on, Shade.” He gave a tug on the leash. The dog followed behind his irresponsible owner.
“Sorry about Greg . . .” His gaze landed on her leg.
“What?” She followed his eyes down to the cut. “Oh, wow. I didn’t even feel it.” She looked back at him. “I need to clean up this scratch.”
“Jesus, it’s not a scratch. You could probably use stitches.”
“No. I’m not going to the hospital.” She shook her head, took a step, and stumbled.
He wrapped his hand around her slender waist. “What’s your aversion to hospitals anyway?”
She spoke through gritted teeth. “Like I told your sister, I don’t have insurance.”
“The ER can’t refuse you treatment because you don’t have insurance. It’s the law.”
“Good to know. I’m not going to the ER just so they can slap on a bandaid.” She narrowed her eyes.
“Fine. Where is your first aid kit?”
She sighed. “I haven’t had time to buy one. If I had known I would get run over by a car and attacked by a dog, I would have added it to my shopping list.”
He chuckled. “Stay here. I have one in my truck.” He jogged over and came back with a white box. “Hold this.”
She took the white box as he scooped her up in his arms.
“Are you crazy? Put me down.” She wiggled against him and his body immediately heated.
“Stop wiggling. It’s faster if I carry you.” He took the steps, two at a time, and stopped at the front door. He made sure not to step on the loose board and waited for her to turn the knob.
Stepping inside, a fresh clean scent washed over him. Looking around, he was amazed at how much progress she had made. The wood floors gleamed and not a speck of dust was found on the little bit of furniture she owned. Even the windows sparkled. She’d definitely been using a lot of elbow grease.
He placed her on the small wicker loveseat in the living room and stood.
“Point me to the kitchen.”
“Through there.”
He returned with a couple of dishtowels and a plastic bowl of warm soapy water. He knelt and dipped the towel into bowl and before gently cleaning her cut.
She sucked in a breath between her teeth.
He froze and looked up into her blue eyes. “Am I hurting you?”
“It just stings a little.”
When he finished cleaning the cut he placed a bandage over it. “I’ve put some antibiotic ointment on it. Hopefully it won’t get infected.”
“Thanks,” she said softly.
His gaze landed on a large bruise on her thigh. His fingertips grazed the skin above the yellow discoloration. “This is where the car hit you.”
“It looks a lot better than it did.” She stood.
“You still should have filed an accident report. Insurance would have paid for any damages.”
“I didn’t have any damages, remember?” She gave him a tense smile. “No need to go to all that trouble for nothing.”
“Grace . . .”