What was wrong with me? I surely did have a concussion to be thinking in such a way. He winced more than I did as the cotton stuck to the wound, and I felt a fresh stream of blood flow down my forehead. He pressed a bandage to the cut to staunch the flow. “Let’s go to the kitchen. Can you walk?”
It wasn’t graceful, but I managed to wobble over to the sink, his strong arm around me to keep me steady. With each step, my head pounded harder, and I was breathing heavy by the time he lifted me to sit on the counter. I was very aware that I wore nothing but his t-shirt, and apparently so was he because he strode back into the living area and returned with a blanket he draped over my bare legs.
“Lie down,” he instructed, his voice grittier and more strained than before. “I need to wash the blood away and it will be easier if I just do it in the sink.” Once I was flat, he told me he’d be right back. And he was, with towels and a first aid kit in his hands. A bottle of shampoo too.
He turned on the water, and once it was warm, he used the nozzle to wet my hair, and I tried not to wince when he got near the sore place. He used a washcloth to wipe the blood from my face. For such a big man, he was very gentle. Yet also strong. He demonstrated an incredible ability to know just how to use the right amount of pressure as he worked his manly smelling shampoo into my hair.
“Sorry I don’t have any girly products,” he said as he hovered over my face. “It’s either Blackwood or Dawn dishwashing detergent.”
I laughed, wincing at how the sound pounded through my brain. “You chose wisely, but if I’m ever caught in an oil spill, use the Dawn, please.”
He actually smiled this time. A true smile, teeth and all, and I was warmed by the little gap between the front two. I wasn’t sure why, but that small flaw made him even more attractive. It was like a little boy still lived within the big, strong man.
“Do you anticipate ever needing to be rescued from an oil spill?”
“No, but I never anticipated needing to be rescued from a blizzard either.”
His smile faded. “Yeah. That was close. The storm hit even sooner than expected.”
I gazed up at him, then was forced to close my eyes as water sprayed into my face as he rinsed my hair. “How did you find me?”
I felt him stiffen, and I blinked through the water to see his face. “You need stitches,” he said, turning off the faucet and probing the cut. “I don’t have supplies for that, but I’ve got superglue. It should work well enough.”
That surprised me. “Glue?”
He grinned, but the gesture seemed forced. “Yep. That’s pretty much what hospitals use, except they’d never admit to it. They couldn’t charge so much if they did.”
He wrapped a towel around my hair, squeezing the strands instead of rubbing, and I realized he’d had some practice doing this. “Are you a hairdresser when you aren’t being Paul Bunyan and a bartender?” I asked, my voice teasing.
But the corners of his mouth tightened, and he didn’t answer. “Can you sit?” He wasn’t angry, but I felt him pulling away, putting a mental distance between us for some reason I didn’t understand.
My muscles were still wobbly, but I managed to do so with his help. My right side was beginning to burn, and I looked down at my arm. I hissed as I explored the cuts and scrapes there. “I think the branch won this battle,” I said as I felt the wound on my cheek.
His fingers replaced mine. “You’re very lucky the limb didn’t drive right through you, and it also stabilized the Jeep long enough for me to get down to you. We should give it a medal.”
“The Purple Bark?”
He laughed, the sound exploding from his chest. “You’re funny. Now, let’s see what else we have.”
Lifting the sleeve of the shirt to expose my arm and shoulder, I noticed him swallow hard, his lips tightening into a thin line.
“Are you cold?” He groaned and looked away from me the moment the words left his mouth.
I looked down at my breasts, and sure enough, my nipples were on high alert under the thin material. I felt my cheeks grow warm as I crossed my battered arms over them. “Um, sorry. Maybe a little.”
He cleared his throat, his eyes coming back to me, but this time they were staring at my forehead. “Then let’s do the first aid back over at the fire. I don’t want you to get chilled.”
Me-ow-ee-k.
What was that?
When it sounded again, I realized it was from a cat. No, a kitten maybe. Thinking about animals made me realize that his beautiful dog wasn’t around. When the squeaky sound became even more urgent in pitch and length, claws clicked on the floor and Maggie appeared around the corner. Her anxious eyes were fixed on her human.
“What’s wrong, girl?” Maggie whined when the meow sounded again. “Is your new friend needing something?”
The dog barked, then whirled around and disappeared. As I turned my head to see where she was going, my vision lurched and I grew dizzy. Reaching for something stable, my hands landed on him. I tried to pull them away, but my weight kept heading in his direction as the kitchen whirled around me. Before I could stop myself, my nose was in his neck.
Time stopped as the soft beard cushioned my face and his arms closed around me. His breath was warm in my hair as he said, “Whoa now. Let’s get you back on the couch.”
As if I were a child, he scooped me up into his strong arms and the blanket fell away to the floor. For the second time that day, I found myself nestled against his broad chest, but this time, I could feel his heart hammering into my side.
It beat to the same rhythm as mine.
I looked up at him, my arms snaking around his neck. “I’m sorry.”
His eyes, so piercingly blue, roved over my face before falling to my lips. For a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. And I wanted with a desperation I didn’t fully understand for him to do so.
Meow-eek.
Click. Click. Click.
Woof.
A breath shuddered out of him, and the moment was over as his face closed into a tight mask.
“Come on.”
In a few long strides, he deposited me back on the sofa. Retrieving the blanket, he covered my legs. “I better check on my other guest.”
CHAPTER SIX
Gray
Not only was I a creeper, I was apparently a dirty old man because when the goddess had pulled the sleeve of my t-shirt up to bare her shoulder, my cock pumped to life.
Shit.
I was brutally aware that there was nothing beneath that blanket over her lap. And nothing under that thin shirt because I could clearly see the outline of her nipples as they began to harden.
Are you cold?
I could have cheerfully punched myself as those words flew from my mouth. I regretted them even more when she looked down, turned red, and crossed her arms over her chest.
Then the kitten began to squeak, saving me from saying something even more stupid just before the goddess got dizzy and fell into my arms.
Her skin was damn soft under my hands as I lifted her from the counter. I’d gotten a concussion during one of my many fights as a teen, and it had been no joke. I couldn’t walk straight for a couple days. Her entire body was still wobbly, but she was doing her best not to show it. It made me like her even more. She’d just gone through hell, yet she was brave and cracking jokes.