I nod and watch him walk out the door.
I blow out a breath and return to dicing.
I can’t believe I just had sex in my office. I can’t believe I’m having sex with Dutton. And I sure as heck can't believe how right everything with him feels.
I—
The blade slices across my hand. I wait for the sting. It’s a sharp knife, so it shouldn’t hurt much more than that.
Then the blood rushes out. I slam the knife down, gripping the edge of the counter to hold myself up.
Shit.
That’s a lot of blood.
These strawberries are going to be ruined, and I need them for this weekend.
I reach for the closest towel and wrap it around my finger.
I take one step toward my office and then stop to lean against the counter.
Shit, this hurts.
I glance down, but I can see the blood already soaking through the towel. I close my eyes; I can’t look at it without getting a queasy stomach.
I take a deep breath and make it to my office, close the door and take a seat.
I’m just reaching for my phone when the office door swings open.
“I forgot to tell you that Wren’s birthday dinner is ton—shit, Books.” Dutton rushes to my side and squats to face level. “Where is your first aid kit?”
“The closest one is behind my office door.”
He moves swiftly, opening it and pulling everything out.
“I don’t think we need all that.”
“We might.” Worry laces his eyes. “Let me look at it.”
I remove the towel, and he growls. “You’ll need stitches and then bandage that hand. With it being on the crease like this, it’ll take longer to heal.”
“I just need to apply pressure to it and I’ll be okay.”
“Books.” Dutton gently grabs my chin. “You need stitches.”
I shake my head. “I need to get the strawberries prepped for this weekend’s festival.”
He keeps his eyes on me for a beat. “First we get stitches, then we come back here and you tell me how to prep the strawberries. Deal?”
“Dutton, I can’t ask that of you, plus you said you need to get back to work.”
“What I need is to be here with you.”
“But your job?—”
“Will be there when I get back. I’ll call Grace on the way to the clinic.”
I bite my lip as I think about what to say next. Another argument is on my lips when he leans his forehead to mine.
