“Kellie.” His deep husky voice was filled with warning as he picked up my leg and rested it across his knee before carefully and methodically pressing his warm fingers into my muscles.
I wish I weren’t affected. He was performing basic first aid. Nothing to get my panties wet over, but this was Jake, and his hands were on me.
“I don't think anything is broken.”
“That’s good.”
“Maybe a bit bruised.”
“Yeah, well, so’s my ego, but I’ll live,” I muttered miserably.
“Kellie, about what you think I said…”
“Don’t worry about it,” I snapped, standing up, trying to balance.
When I went to take a step and walk away from the man who obviously wanted to tell me in painful detail why he’d rejected me, the moment I put weight on my ankle, down I went, howling in pain like a werewolf in the moonlight.
“That’s it,” Jake barked, bending down and scooping me up bridal style before carrying me up the hill and depositing me on the tailgate. “Don’t move,” he instructed, and I was too shocked to ignore his command.
A moment later, Jake unraveled his bedroll and spread it across the bed of his truck before grabbing some pillows he had stashed and setting up, not at all worried about the storm looming on the horizon.
“What are you doing?” I asked, confused.
Without a word, Jake toed off his boots and hopped up before once again lifting me like I weighed nothing more than a feather and settling me against the nest of pillows. When he shifted to where my feet were, he handed me his phone and told me to hold it steady.
This time as he examined my ankle, I watched on intently. He was so gentle and careful. His fingers danced along my leg, working his way along the bone and pushing down on the swollen skin.
“Ouch,” I complained when he touched an extra sensitive spot.
“I think you’ll live.”
“Great!” I faked enthusiasm.
“Keep off it and keep it elevated, and you should be fine.”
“Thanks,” I replied, trying not to sound like an ungrateful twat.
Holding his hand out, I returned his phone only for him to turn off the torch, leaving us sitting in the back of his truck, in the middle of a paddock, on the top of a hill in the moonlight.
After a long, quiet moment, Jake asked tenderly. “Are you cold?”
“I’m fine,” I replied, rubbing my hands up and down my arms. I wasn’t lying. I wasn’t cold, exactly, but I was definitely cool.
“Fuck, I hate that word,” Jake grumbled as he shifted beside me, the truck rocking before wrapping his arm around my shoulders, his warmth instantly engulfing me.
When I went to shrug him off, he tightened his hold.
I tried again.
“Stop it, would you?”
“Stop what?”
“I’m not letting you go,” he declared as if it was a done deal.
Well, I had news for him. His moods were giving me whiplash. I wasn’t the naïve, love-struck teen he’d once known. The one who’d let him get away with showing up an hour late or who forgot Valentine's Day. I wasn’t that person anymore, and I never would be again. Now I was a cynical pessimist who wasn’t really sure she believed in anything anymore. I couldn’t. I’d had my heart broken more times than I cared to count by the people who claimed to love me. And even though I knew it wasn’t all Jake’s fault, this is who I was now, and this was the only version of me I could offer him.
“Why the hell not? It’s not like you want me,” I muttered bitterly, looking down toward the creek.
