"I'm impressed," I said, stalking toward her while a hot tingle spiraled through my muscles. "You followed directions. Is that a first?"
Her face brightened in a rueful smile. "It might very well be. I'm not one for coloring inside the lines."
I wrapped my fingers around her elbow and took my time skimming them up to her wrist. Her skin was unreal. So soft, so smooth. I could lose a day to the creamy expanse of her forearm.
"Stopped bleeding," I said as I peeled back the paper towel. "Some antiseptic, a couple of Band-Aids, and you'll be hammering away in no time." I blotted the cuts on her palm once more. "Maybe not first thing tomorrow morning though."
She shook her head, her gaze fixed on mine. "Not tomorrow morning."
I couldn't look away. Couldn't even breathe.
"Do you want me to do it?" Her eyes widened at my question. "The antiseptic. And the bandages. Do you want me to do this for you? So you don't have to look?"
Her lips parted on a fast breath. She nodded but then stopped herself, saying, "It's okay. I can do it."
"I know you can." I gave her wrist a squeeze that fell somewhere between comfort and restraint. I didn't know what I wanted to give her more. "There's nothing you can't do, Jas, but there's nothing wrong with letting someone else deal with the problems for a minute. Especially the gory ones."
"That sounds all well and good but it's never that easy. Never."
She ducked her head down, out of the overhead light's glow, as her eyes grew shiny. Whether it was alcohol or emotion, she didn't want me to see.
I thumbed open the antiseptic cream. "I'm not gonna prove you wrong."
"Because it's the truth," she muttered, her gaze still averted as I dabbed the cream on her palm. "People don't usually do it right. When they deal with the problems, I mean."
"I'm actually going to agree with you on this one."
She jerked her head up. "I'm not sure how to respond to that. What do we do now? We can't just…agree."
I swept a bit of extra cream off her palm and wiped my hands on the paper towel. "You know the saying. 'If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.' You probably have it inked somewhere." I lifted her wrist, gently twisted her arm to inspect the underside. "Not here. Maybe the other one." I ran my hand down the opposite arm. "Nope. Not there either." I dropped my hand to her knee, stroked my thumb in the tender hollow there. "Come on. Where is it?"
"No tattoos. Hate to disappoint." A lazy smile stretched across her lips.
I eyed her up and down. "You're sure about that? I could check for you."
Her cheeks heated and she giggled, a sound so strange and novel that I found myself laughing too. "You could look but you won't find anything."
"And now I'm back to disagreeing with you because I would find plenty, Jasper." I tickled the back of her knee. "Plenty."
I held her gaze for a heavy moment before turning my attention to the first aid kit. I had to find a bandage to protect the span of her palm while these cuts healed.
"Out of curiosity, did you find anything when you grabbed my breast? You know, last week at the front door?"
"Shit. I am sorry about that."
"Don't be. My elbow was…"
"Oh, I know where your elbow was that day. I knowall aboutthat elbow."
She rubbed her temple, saying, "Glad I made a good impression."
"Are you holding up all right?" I ripped open the bandage's wax paper packaging. "Not too woozy? Not going to pass out on me?"
"I was never going to pass out on you," she replied, tart as ever.
"Course not."
"I just get a little lightheaded when there's a lot of blood. I don't see much of it," she mused. "It's funny since my work tends to be something of a blood sport. Metaphorically speaking."
