"Oh. It's nothing." She tried to tug her hand back, embarrassment heating her cheeks.
He didn't let go. If anything, his grip adjusted, tightening just enough to be unbreakable without hurting her. He turned her hand over, inspecting the clumsy wrap job as if it were a personal affront to him. His jaw was locked so tight a muscle ticked violently in his cheek.
"Who did this, Jules?" The words were slow, deliberate, and laced with a terrifying sort of quiet menace. Like a low growl suppressed just behind his teeth.
A shiver ran down her spine. Not fear, exactly. No, this was something else entirely that made her breath hitch and her stomach tighten. "Nobody did it, Lex. It’s not…” She realized with a start that he thought someone had hurt her. The air in the kitchen felt suddenly explosive. "It was the house. The valves."
His brows drew together, the murderous edge dulling slightly into confusion. "The valves?"
"When the basement started flooding. I tried to shut the water valves off. They were rusted shut." She bit her lip, remembering the frantic, freezing struggle in the rising water. "It was sharp. I slipped a few times trying to get leverage. It's just scrapes, really. And then I had to go outside to get tools and my hands were wet…" She shrugged. "It's fine."
He stared at her for a long beat, the silence thick enough to choke on. Then he let out a harsh breath through his nose that sounded strangely like a curse. Slowly, carefully, he released her wrist, though his gaze stayed fixed on her damaged skin as if he could heal it by sheer force of will. The feral intensity didn't leave his eyes, it just shifted focus from an imaginary assailant to the general unfairness of her day.
"Eat." He practically growled the command, pushing her plate closer before abruptly standing up.
Before she could process the shift, he was moving to a cabinet near the sink. He returned a moment later with a sleek, professional-looking first-aid kit and set it on the counter with a definitive thud.
"Finish your sandwich," he ordered, his back to her as he started pulling out antiseptic wipes and proper gauze. "Then I'm cleaning those properly."
Jules opened her mouth to argue that she was fine, that he didn't need to bother, but a glance at his rigid shoulders told her that resistance was futile. The way he’d looked when he thought someone hurt her... it was purely terrifying. And thrilling. Which was something she would absolutely need to unpack later when she wasn't sitting three feet away from him.
She quickly finished her meal, and without another word, he took her hands. Despite his earlier intensity, his touch was incredibly gentle as he unwrapped her messy bandages, cleaned the angry red scrapes and cuts across her knuckles and palms, applied some salve, and re-wrapped them in clean bandages with efficient skill.
When they were finally finished she insisted on helping him clean up the kitchen. It was the very least she could do. Then Jules grabbed Fred from the counter and headed for the guest room to finish unpacking.
"Jules."
She paused at the hallway.
"I'm glad you're safe. And warm. Even if our friends are manipulative assholes."
A smile tugged at her lips. "Me too."
As she closed the guest room door, she pulled out her phone to try one more text to Faye: "I know what you did. And we're going to talk about this."
It failed to send, of course.
Through the walls, she heard Lex moving around, his restless energy already making her jittery.
Outside, the storm raged harder, sealing them in together.
She was going to be stuck here for days. In a cabin. With Lex.
She looked at Fred on the dresser. "Faye is either the best friend I've ever had or the worst."
The jury was still out.
Chapter 4
Lex
Wednesday morning, 6:15 AM
Lex stood in the kitchen doorway watching Jules make coffee.
She'd found his French press and figured out where he kept everything. Now she was softly humming a song he didn't recognize while she waited for the water to boil. Fred sat in the kitchen window where she'd placed him last night before she went to bed, positioned to catch the morning sun.
Fuck.
