Page 54
Fox took hold of my heel to snap my boot out of the remaining ski, and I hissed at the sudden jolt of pain lancing up my leg like lightning.
He froze, hands not moving another inch as his eyes flicked up to mine.
“Okay, so maybe I’m not entirely fine,” I ceded, grumbling as I picked my leg up by my pants to set it out straighter. A wince pinched the skin around my eyes.
Fox’s jaw set in a firm line as he slowly undid the clasps of my ski boot.
“That’s maybe not a good idea,” I started to say, knowing it would swell up the second the boot wasn’t constraining it anymore. “It was my knee that gave out that time. Guess my whole leg is stressed...”
“I need to make sure nothing’s broken,” he argued sternly. “And then I probably need to wrap your leg. We need to keep it as immobile as possible till we can get you off it.”
He didn’t bother saying we should turn back, and I appreciated it, letting out a heavy exhale.
“I think I just twinged it,” I said. Biting into my lower lip, I worried at a piece of dry skin as he slid the boot off with achingly slow motions and tenderness.
“Just twinged it,” he repeated drily. “You’re a menace to your body, aren’t you?”
His wry humor nearly coaxed a laugh out of me that I wanted to blame on the crash after my adrenaline rush. I sucked my lips into my mouth, pinching them tightly to hide the smile.
Just then, the sun decided it wasn’t giving up yet, and the birds returned, filling the forest with the sounds of soft chipping chickadees and trilling sparrows. Some of the clouds parted, giving way to warm rays that shone in patches across the forest, and one of those patches landed on us, warm and comforting as he slid my foot out of its sock, keeping it cradled in his palm.
His warm, lightly calloused, and soft all at the same time hand...
“Can you wiggle your toes?”
“Do you have a fetish, Fox?”
He dragged his gaze up, glaring at me with a hooded, dry stare.
My lips burst free into a smirk. “There. I wiggled them. See? Not broken.” I bent my knee for good measure, fighting the urge to wince. “And my knee is fine, too. Just stiff.”
He looked back down, confirming that I was telling the truth, and clicked his tongue disapprovingly. He didn’t argue though, and he reached into the Velcro pockets lining his pants to fish out a mini first aid kit.
I wondered what else he had stowed away... Snacks? A flashlight? Condoms?
He unwound binding and medical tape, keeping my foot propped in his lap where he sat on his knees before me. I doubted he really knew what he was doing until he started wrapping my ankle and foot up like a pro. I distinctly remembered an old track coach wrapping my flimsy ankle the same way after I sprained it during hurdling practice.
“Where’d you learn to do this?” I pestered.
“A movie.”
I snorted. “Seriously, Fox.”
“I am serious.” He didn’t look up once as he continued to bind me. “Let’s hope the movie was medically accurate, am I right?”
My mouth dropped open, snapped shut, and dropped open again as I scrambled for how to respond. “Er... Yeah. Let’s hope.”
For a moment, I shut up and let him concentrate on my ankle. The only problem with that was that I wasn’t distracted enough, and I could only focus on his hands. His beautiful, warm, strong hands. Slender, veined, yet sporting a roughness in some places that reminded me he worked for a construction crew some days.
Was he missing work for this?
His fingers brushed bare skin when he started rolling up my snow pants, and I sucked in a breath.
I thought he tensed at my sudden shift and could have sworn the muscles along his jaw fluttered.
Maybe he hid it well. Or maybe I imagined it.
Then he was helping me back into my sock, and his hands most definitely lingered on my ankle. Then on my calf as he balanced the leg.
