The glass must still be in there and she’d likely just lodged it deeper.
By now a crimson blotch had blossomed on the front of her white t-shirt. A wave of nausea hit her and the bar began to spin. She didn’t do well with blood. Especially her own. She grabbed the edge of the counter hoping to right the world again. And then her legs turned to jello…
He would havepreferred a shot or two of whiskey… or ten, but she seemed to want to pour him a beer. She didn’t look like she needed difficulties tonight. He’d intended to sit at a table where he could have some privacy but had changed his mind when he saw the girl working behind the bar.
With lush curves, a creamy complexion and blond hair pulled into a pony tail, she reminded him of a thirties pin up girl. She couldn’t be more different than the women he usually went for. She was… interesting.
Different.
But sexy as hell, even if her smile seemed a little jaded.
And although he wasn’t normally into one night stands, this would be the night to have one– given the opportunity.
He’d travelled to Alpine Creek, Colorado, not to ski, not to party or close a deal, but to bail his twin sister out of jail and get her admitted into rehab.
This would be her fifth time in three years. But he couldn’t give up on her. As long as she didn’t give up on herself, then neither would he.
And as much as he hated it sometimes, she was a part of him.
And she knew it.
He’d always be there for her. Elliot had always been her defender, her confidante.
His parents and brother had abandoned Ellen after her third stint failed. They’d washed their hands of her. Well almost.
They would always be tied to one another, not because of blood but because of the money. A long held family trust assured all of them would have money to live on, and then some, for the rest of their lives.
Even Ellen.
If only she would stop spending it on drugs. The mere thought made him a little sick inside. All day long he’d been dealing with social workers, doctors and of course, Ellen’s lawyer. His sister’s attitude wasn’t exactly inspiring.
Wanting to think about anything but why he was here, he flicked his eyes up and down as the sweet little bartender turned away to fill his beer. His cock stirred in interest. Now he could appreciate her hourglass curves from behind.
Oh, yeah, she would do nicely. Her ass filled those jeans out perfectly.
She’d asked him something, but when she turned around he got distracted by the amount of blood on the front of her shirt.
“You’re bleeding.” It took a moment for her to process his words, and when she did, and then looked down, her eyes kind of glazed over.
He’d seen that look before.
He leapt off his stool and dashed around and through the opening of the bar just in time to keep her from falling. With one arm around her waist, he helped her to a table. Dazed, she allowed him to assist her into one of the chairs.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. She moved as though she were in quicksand.
He crouched down and pulled her head forward. “Breathe deep.”
She rested her forehead on her hands. “I’ll be fine. I’m okay.”
Meanwhile, blood was gradually drenching her shirt.
The male server, who’d been standing around at the bar a few minutes before, rushed over. When he saw the blood-stained t-shirt he gasped, “Holy shit, Are you okay, Noel?” And then to Elliot, “What happened?”
“The glass,” he responded tersely. “She needs a few towels or wash cloths.” Elliot didn’t look at the other server to see that he had left. He’d spied the shard of glass embedded in her skin and didn’t want to lose sight of it. Reaching into his pocket, he removed the utility knife he carried with him and opened it to a miniature needle nose pliers.
“I see the glass. Hold still,” he ordered. With one hand on her shoulder, to keep her from moving, Elliot reached forward and gently grasped the shard with the pliers. It had buried itself deeper than he would have imagined and it required a few cautious twists to work free.
She cringed and then dropped her forehead to his shoulder.
