There was no accusation in the question, no lecture. Just awhat ifthat landed on her like a weight. Old Lily would have apologized, rushed to smooth things over and promised to be more careful. But New Lily was done being handled, done being smothered by well-meaning people who thought they knew what was best for her.
Her chin rose a fraction higher. “I know how to take care of myself.”
Rush’s lips pressed together, his jaw flexing like he was holding something back. “Then act like it,” he said, not unkindly, but firmly. “I’ve known you for a few days, and so far, I’ve seen you run out of church in a blaze of glory and survive a deadly snowstorm, and now you’re out here wrestling with my dog.” His eyes held hers steadily, something flickering behind them before his mouth curved. “Maybe just make sure your inhaler is in your pocket when you’re being a badass,” he added dryly.
The words knocked her off-balance more than his concern. She was used to people hovering and worrying, being handled rather than being trusted to take care of herself. But Rush wasn’t looking at her like she was fragile. He was looking at her like he admired her, and it felt pretty amazing.
A slow grin spread across her lips. “For the record, I didn’t get tackled. We were playing a game.”
Riggs cocked his head the other way, as if contradicting her, and let out a sharp bark that made her flinch.Dammit. She restrained herself from sticking out her tongue at him.
Rush’s eyes flicked to her mouth, just for a second, but it was enough to make her stomach swoop.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice lower. “I noticed.”
“I don’t need a babysitter, Rush,” she said quietly. Her heart thudded in her ears, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. She sensed this was too important to let go. “I don’t need anyone deciding what’s best for me.”
His dark brows lifted, but he didn’t argue. He just studied her, eyes locked on hers, holding her breath in place.
Then, to her absolute shock, the corner of his mouth curved up. “Noted.”
He turned back to the fire, as if that was that, leaving her standing there, breathless and flushed with an unfamiliar thrill. New Lilywaspretty badass.
Chapter Eleven
“You know,I have some training in massage therapy,” Lily said later that evening. She tried to sound more casual than she felt. “That looks like it hurts.”
She held her breath and waited for Rush to answer.
They had dinner earlier—more canned soup. Then she’d taken an unpleasantly cold shower, secretly hoping Rush would join her.
He didn’t, of course.
Instead, he’d waited until she was finished then strode into the bathroom with his towel and a fresh change of clothes, depriving her of a glimpse of him in a towel. When he emerged a while later, dressed in a soft pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a fitted cream-colored Henley that stretched across his broad chest, she felt robbed. He tugged his ever-present baseball cap low, shading his eyes from her.
They had settled into the evening like an old married couple in front of the fire, which crackled in the stove, filling the cabin with a steady, calm warmth. Outside, the wind still howled against the windows, rattling the glass like it wanted in, but the cabin felt snug and warm and very quiet.
Too quiet. Lily stretched out on the couch, her foot swinging with nervous energy over the edge, and quit pretending to read. The book couldn’t hold her interest with the biggest distraction of her life—Rush Callahan—across from her in the chair by the fire, gazing into the flames. Her mind kept drifting to the storm outside, the warmth of the fire, the man across from her… and the feeling of him on top of her.
Rush’s expression was unreadable while he watched the fire, but every so often, he rubbed absently at his thigh. She tried not to watch. Really tried, but her eyes had a mind of their own, and they were drawn to him like a magnet, and she had finally worked up the nerve to ask him about it.
Rush’s hands tightened around his glass at her question. He had long fingers, the backs sprinkled with dark, curly hair—masculine and strong, even with the bruising and cuts. Those rough hands had slid so gently across her cheek to wipe away the snow. She dragged her eyes away to find him taking a slow sip of whiskey, and she watched his strong throat work as he swallowed.
“I’m fine,” he said finally. There was a warning in his voice that she didn’t acknowledge.
“You’ve been rubbing your thigh for the last half hour. Did you hurt it again earlier?”Perhaps chopping wood or maybe when you guided me onto my back in the snow and came down on top of me.
He didn’t answer right away, so she pushed forward before she could overthink it. When else would she have this moment?
Brave Lily. Real Lily.
“Here, let me.” She stepped between his knees, acting on instinct, until her nerves caught up with her and she hesitated.
Riggs lifted his head when she took another step closer, and he growled a warning.
She edged back. “I thought we came to a truce,” she muttered, peeved that their bonding moment hadn’t lasted.
“Quiet,” Rush commanded the dog. “He still thinks he’s the boss of you.”
