Easton was still hovered over his bag, setting items atop the table while searching some more. “I used it to sop up the blood.”
A completely uninvited thrill rushed through her at his answer. Was hekidding?He’d actually ripped off his sweater, torn off his tee shirt, and used it to dab the blood off her head? And she’dmissedit? Her chest and face filled with delighted heat. “That’s so…niceof you.”
He lifted his chin at last and tossed her a navy colored pair of thermal pants. The shirt came next. “I’m a survival specialist,” he explained as she caught the clothing in turn. “It’s all second nature to me.”
Okay, could she just admit right then and there that Easton Sparks was seriously sexy? Everything about him was rugged and masculine and causing her to wish she was one of the lucky bachelorettes lined up for the show. She wasn’t sure why it was suddenly so undeniably clear. Perhaps she was still woozy. Maybe she had a concussion. Or perhaps the injury had smacked the stubbornness right out of her head. Whatever the cause, Ivy was done pretending he didn’t have an effect on her.
“I’ll give you some privacy,” he said, spinning his chair in the opposite direction so he faced the rounded wall.
He was chivalrous too. “Oh. Okay, I’ll hurry.” It was a good thing the thermals were thick and dark, not like the white, threadbare numbers she’d imagined. She was quick to stand in place and remove her coat, and then her shirt. Whether wet or dry, her bra and panties weren’t going anywhere, so it was a very good thing both were dry. She was pleased to find that her phone had stayed tucked into place, safely within her bra and away from the elements.
The discovery made her recall the interview. Would he be willing to do it now before her battery died? She’d already shrugged into the large top. It felt nice and warm against her skin. She tore off her wet boots, drenched socks, and jeans next, paying no mind to the crumpled heap as she reached for the bottoms. Quickly, she stepped into one pant leg after the next, and yanked them up to her, well....
“Don’t turn around,” she said, “but these pants could probably go up and over my head.”
“Roll them at the bottom a few times,” he suggested, “then we’ll see what we can do about the rest.”
We’llsee?Ivy shot a look over her shoulder to ensure he was still facing the wall. He was, of course, so she did as he said, rolling up one pant leg at the ankle, then the other. She decided to try a similar thing with the waist by gathering the loose fabric, folding it down once, and then cinching it into a knot. “It’s huge,” she said, staring at the softball-sized wad of fabric at her belly. “It’s like I’m having a thermal baby,” she laughed.
“You dressed?” Easton asked from his spot against the wall.
“Yeah, you can turn around.” She fiddled with the hem of the oversized shirt, wondering if she could get it to cover the knot, but it only looked worse.Who cares, Ivy?An irritated inner voice came. Butshecared. She was with one of the most seriously handsome men she’d met in person.
“Here,” he said, moving toward her. “There’s a way, if you don’t mind me showing you, to make it more flat. My sister was a belly sleeper, so the big knot wouldn’t do…”
He glanced down at the lump before setting his eyes on hers. They were brown. A gorgeous brown that reflected the gold of the flickering flames. “May I?” he rasped with a nod in her direction. “I promise to keep things…decent.”
Ivy nodded, lifting her hands in surrender mode. Her heart thudded wildly out of beat as he approached the messy knot of fabric with his large hands. She glanced up at his chiseled chest, the muscled contours accented by the firelight’s shadow, and felt her face flush with heat.
“Here,” he mumbled, untying the mass. The back of his warm fingers barely grazed her skin as he worked. As promised, he seemed to keep focused on not exposing anything below her belly button. “Folding the top down like that was good,” he said, “but let’s do that after we tighten it up. If we twist it once, cinch it real good, and then pull it back like this…” He gave each side a good pull. “Ah, looks like you’re small enough I can actually just snap the top button in the back. Here, spin around.”
She did as he said, another slight thrill darting through her as his hand cupped her hip. A rush of goosebumps rippled up her arms.
A tiny little click sounded. He proceeded to roll the waist down once, then twice. “There,” he said. “All done. I used to give my sister a swat on her diapered butt when I was through, but I’ll spare you.”
She chuckled and glanced down, appreciating the way he’d managed to create a fairly flattened twist in the front. “Thank you.”
Ivy combed her fingers through her damp hair, her mind already rushing back to the interview. She spun back to face him, but dropped her gaze to her bare feet. How would she be able to bring it up? As it was, he’d done enough kind things for her that the two were wildly off balance. Could she really pester him for an interview after all of that? And at a time like this?
Marsha’s text shot to her mind. She didn’t have much of a choice.
“I’ve got a pair of socks for you,” Easton blurted, seeming to just notice her feet. He retrieved a thick pair of oatmeal-colored socks and hurried back over to her. “You could probably fit both of those tiny feet into one sock, but I wouldn’t advise it.”
She laughed.
“Might make dancing with me in the firelight a little…”
“Impossible?” she offered, trying to ignore the thrill that shot through her at the image of dancing with him.
“I was going to say awkward, but that works too.”
“Well then,” she said, plopping onto the bearskin rug he’d spread out beneath her, “I better give these little piggies their very own socks. Did you know that of the two-hundred and six bones in the human body, fifty-two of those bones are in the feet?”
“Seriously?” Easton piped.
“Yep. Twenty-six in each foot. Crazy, huh?”
Easton surprised her by taking a seat on the floor as well. “Yeah, that is.”
