“Poor baby,” she says it sweetly, not mocking.
Holding open her screen door, I’m about to step inside her house, but I pause and ask, “I’ve gotta know, do forgive me, Prudence?”
She looks into my eyes. I can tell she’s thinking. “I need to apologize.”
“What?”
She sighs. “We need to talk. Are you willing to do that?”
I nod even though talking about love isn’t my strong suit.
Oh, Christ. Is this is love?
Nodding, I smile. “I gotcha. We need to talk it out.”
“Mm-hmm.” She looks down at my leg. “Let’s go, you’re getting blood on my porch.”
“Right.” I’m smiling from ear to ear. I don’t remember being this happy and relieved at the same time.
ChapterTwenty-Five
Prudence
I’ve gotNate in my tiny bathroom. There’s barely enough room for both of us, but it’ll be easier to clean up any mess in here. “You’d better take off your pants so I can get to those wounds.”
He kicks off his boots and sets them next to the bathtub. Next, he unbuckles his belt, and the sound of the metal clinking along with the zip of his zipper echoes in the tiny space. As he slides his pants down, I search for my little first aid kit. I know it’s in here somewhere.
And yes, I’m doing my level-best not to watch him undress. It gives me all sorts of sexy feelings that I need to avoid, for now. “There it is.” I reach into the back of the cupboard next to my sink. With the kit in hand, I set it on the counter next to the sink. Nate’s stripped down to only his tee and briefs and is sitting on the toilet. I can’t help noticing his thighs. They’re thick and muscular and covered in hair. His skin is a medium olive hue. I know I shouldn’t do it, but I can’t help but compare him to Travis whose legs were spindly and pale. Travis had barely any hair on his legs or head for that matter.
Focus, Prudence.
His knees appear to be worse than mine were when I crashed in front of his shop. Because the space is limited in my bathroom, the best way to work on his wounds is to get on my knees in front of him. Ignoring those sexy thoughts again, I kneel and assess the damage. With a disinfectant wipe in hand, I start to clean the wound on his left leg. It’s the worst of the two. Nate hisses when the medicine is swiped across. “Sorry.”
“S’okay.”
I make quick work of the left leg and turn to the right. That’s when Nate decides to talk. “I like you, Prudence.”
I glance up at him. “I like you too.”
“No.” He runs a hand over the scruff on his chin. “I’m not sayin’ it right. What I mean is, Ireallylike you.”
“I feel the same about you.”
He growls like he’s frustrated. With me? “You’re not gettin’ it.”
I stop my nursing and sit back on my heels. “Then, explain it to me.”
He sighs, looks up at the ceiling, then back down at me. Our eyes meet, and I see true sincerity in his. “I’ll try.”
I wait.
“That stuff I said at the hospital? When I was a little out of it?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I meant it.”
Does he recall what he said?
