“Not your fault.”
“Here sit down, let me look at it.”
I sat at one of the kitchen stools because the darn foot hurt like a bitch. And my one thought was I couldn’t wear spiked heels to the office for quite a while.
Rory gently pulled the mule from my injured foot.
“Ooh,” he said with sympathy. “It hit the side but missed the toes. You’re lucky. But you should put it up, so it doesn’t swell too badly. You need some ice too.”
“I’ll just sit here. I’ll be fine.”
“Nonsense,” he said. “Can you flex your foot, or should we take you to the hospital for x-rays?”
“Yes. I’ll be fine.”
“You keep saying that, but you’re injured. Don’t take things lightly as your father does, or you will end up in trouble too. And we need you too badly for that to happen.”
“You do?”
“Here,” he said in a no-nonsense tone. Rory slipped one arm under my arm and another under my knees and lifted me effortlessly.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking you to the living room so you can put your feet up. And yes, we do need you. My idiot friends only behave when you are around.”
“They didn’t today.”
“Trust me. That was mild compared to other things I’ve seen. And what happened in Angelo’s? The usual nonsense, only this time it was public.”
“I didn’t know.”
With a few steps, he took me to the living room faced with floor to ceiling windows that looked out on the pool, the extended deck and the Hollywood hills beyond. Rory set me down gently.
“Don’t go anywhere,” he said.
“Don’t worry.”
He disappeared back into the kitchen and brought back ice wrapped in a kitchen towel, a plate of food and a glass of ice tea.
“Here,” he said as he placed the food and drink on the table. He sat at the end of the sofa and lifted my foot.
“You might not need that ice after all. Is it still tender?”
“Not like it was.”
“I think your shoes saved you from the worst of it. Here.”
Gently, slowly, he stroked my sore foot between his strong hands.
“How does that feel?” he said.
“Good,” I admit.
He massaged not just the injured foot but the other too, spreading calm throughout my body. And I had to admit, my feet between his thighs sent effervescent sensations through me. My head fell back as Iimagined this gentle giant messaging other things as well. In my illicit imaginings, Rory massaged my thighs and worked upward. A groan escaped my lips.
“You okay?”
“You’re good at this.”
