I chuckle, which makes my side hurt. “We have ‘facilities’?”
“We have a tree.” Austin snags his shirt where it hangs on a stone jutting out from the wall, and tugs it on, his cheeks slightly red and his gaze pinned to the floor. “Don’t try to get up, Mik. Your ankle was pretty swollen last night. I’ll help you.”
Now it’s my turn to flush with embarrassment. This amazing, strong, protective man held me all night under the blankets and sleeping bag, skin-to-skin, and we’ve been on exactly one date. This isn’t me. The last time I slept with a man, we’d been dating for a month. The time before that…two months.
And both of them hurt me.
Austin…he’s different. Honorable to a fault. Respectful. Sweet. Protective. He grabs my tank top and flannel shirt and sinks down next to me.
“Do you think you can manage to put your shirt on if I hold the sleeping bag up?” he asks, concern creasing his brow.
“Y-yes.” I want to tell him that it’s okay. That he doesn’t need to keep me covered, but that’s not a conversation I can have here. Not dirty and in pain with men who want to kill me still out there.
Dropping what used to be a white shirt next to me, he curls his fingers around the top of the sleeping bag, brushing my collarbone as he does so. The contact sends sparks shooting lower. Down to my core.
Get yourself under control, Mik. Someone tried to kill you last night.
The thought keeps me from reaching for Austin, but I want to. So very much. I want him to kiss me again. To do…more. But not here. Not in these crumbling ruins in the middle of nowhere.
My back protests when I raise my arms, but I’m able to tug the shirt down to cover my body without too much of a struggle. “Okay. I’m, uh, decent. From the waist up anyway.”
A muscle in his jaw ticks when he lowers the sleeping bag, and his breaths saw in and out of his chest like he’s just gone for a run.
“Austin?”
With a muttered curse, he turns away to reach for my pants. “Ignore me, Mik. It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.” I brush my fingers over his wrist, and he sucks in a sharp breath. His black pants are decidedly tight…down there, and he won’t meet my gaze. “I…this isn’t something I’ve ever said to a man before. But, I want you to touch me, Austin. Not here. Not now. But…when we’re safe. When it doesn’t hurt just to sit up. When I’ve—“ my cheeks catch fire, “—showered.”
Austin leans closer and cups the back of my neck. “You’re beautiful, Mikayla. Every bit as beautiful as you were on our date two nights ago.”
“You’re not impressing me with your visual acuity,” I say, surprised I’m relaxed enough to smile.
He traces his index finger along my jaw. “My eyes are just fine, sweetheart. You have a bit of dirt. Right here.” Continuing down the curve of my neck, he reaches my collarbone. “And here.”
The tension between us makes my heart beat faster, and if other biological needs weren’t making themselves known, I’d kiss him, or ask him to kiss me. Instead, I cover his hand with mine. “Help me with these,” I say as I nod towards my pants. “Then help me outside so I can find that tree?”
Chapter Thirteen
Mikayla
My ankle doesn’t want to hold my full weight, and Austin wraps his arm around my waist to help me out to a nearby tree. Thankfully, once I’m leaning against the rough bark with a clump of moss in my hand, he shoves his hands into his pockets and stares down at the ground. “You’re going to need a crutch to make it back to the Land Rover. Will you be okay…?”
“Yes. Just don’t go too far.”
He cups the back of my head, and his hazel eyes hold such intensity, I want to look away, but I can’t. “I won’t leave you, sweetheart. I promise. You’ll be able to see me the whole time.”
Nodding, I watch him walk away, waiting until he’s gone at least twenty feet before I drop my pants and awkwardly take care of my needs. By the time I’m done, he’s standing by the dilapidated structure with two tree branches balanced against one crumbling wall.
“It’s okay. I’m done,” I call as I manage a few uneven, painful steps closer to him. And then his arm is around my waist.
“Easy there,” he murmurs. “It might only be a mild sprain, but you’re going to be unsteady for a few days. Don’t want you going down again.”
“Do they teach all guys in the Air Force to be this…chivalrous?” I ask. We’re back inside now, and he lowers me down to the camping mat, then sits next to me and digs in his pack for a minute, coming away with a bottle of water and two pouches labeled “Beef Stew.”
“No, ma’am,” he says with a smile. I open the water bottle while he tears into the pouches and fiddles with them for a minute before handing me one, along with…a spork? “Chivalry’s my dad’s department. I swear, my mom has never opened a door in her life unless he was nowhere around.”
“Tell me about them?” The first sporkful of stew tastes like heaven, and I moan a little, my cheeks flushing hot at the look Austin shoots my way. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
