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Racked and Stacked

Page 7

by Lorelei James


  “How long you think you can stand havin’ me around?”

  “How about we give it two weeks? If it sucks, after that you can leave.”

  “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

  “Now that that’s settled, where are your house keys?”

  “In my purse, in the house. I didn’t see the need to drag a handbag with me when I was crawling under the goddamned trailer with a blowtorch.” She paused. “Live and learn, right? But I’ll be damned if I’ll take my purse with me everywhere as my brothers have demanded.”

  “Your brothers gave you grief about that?”

  “Of course they did.”

  “They were probably scared shitless, seein’ Larissa the Invincible busted up.” He gestured to her cast, which stretched from the knuckles on her right hand to the top of her biceps. “I wasn’t expecting it to be that big.”

  “You forget I’m big boned.”

  He grinned at her off-the-cuff cheekiness. “So how are we getting in?”

  “There’s a spare key under the orange flowerpot. I’ll show you.” She reached for the door handle.

  “Uh-uh. Stay put.”

  “You don’t know where anything is in my house, Ike. It’ll take twice as long to get what I need if you don’t let me come inside with you.”

  “Fine. But you do nothin’ besides point out the things you’ll need. Promise me, girl who swears she always keeps her promises.”

  Riss raised two fingers. “Scouts honor.”

  “I’ll come around to your side and help you out.”

  She squirmed.

  Ike let her.

  “This is a test, isn’t it?” she asked grumpily. “Whether I’ll do what you ask without arguing.”

  He held up a sheaf of papers he’d picked up next to her meds. “I gotta trust that you’ll follow doctor’s orders at all times, Riss, whether I’m with you or you’re alone at my house. The one smart thing your brothers did was keepin’ you under a watchful eye at all times.”

  “All right.”

  “Second thing. You have to let me help you. Fightin’ me is fightin’ healing.”

  She let her head fall back into the headrest. “I really hate this.”

  He silently asked the universe to grant him more patience—no doubt he’d need it.

  The front door to her trailer hadn’t even been locked—just another thing that her brothers had neglected to check that pissed him off. Inside was almost as frigid as outside, so Ike didn’t dawdle as he followed her down the dark hallway to the back of her trailer. In her bedroom, he filled two suitcases. One with clothes. The other with toiletries, the pillow from her bed, a fleece blanket . . . her vibrator.

  He opened his mouth to ask if that was really necessary, but he snapped it shut, half-fearful of Riss taunting him that if she didn’t have it, it’d be up to him to keep her sexually satisfied.

  Riss took his silence as judgment. “I know you’ve seen a vibrator before. And I can go lefty with that one when I’m needing a little self-love.”

  “Jesus, Riss. TMI.”

  “Better grab my laptop bag. That has my e-reader, computer, log books and assorted cords.” She smirked. “And extra batteries.”

  * * *

  During the drive to Ike’s house, Riss retreated into total silence again.

  After he parked in his driveway, she angled her head to peer at the two-story structure. “This is a lot of house for one guy.”

  “It’s not the first time you’ve seen it,” he reminded her.

  “But it’s the first time I’ll be invited inside it,” she retorted.

  He tried not to feel guilty, telling himself they’d been frenemies, not friends.

  “It looks new.”

  “It’s not. I got a good deal when I built it about ten years ago.”

  “You’ve lived here by yourself that long?”

  “After raising my sisters, I wanted my own place. I hired my buddy Holt Andrews, who’d just started his construction company to build it.”

  “If you grew up in Rawlins, why did you build a home in Muddy Gap?”

  Ike shrugged. “The lot was cheap. Holt had other jobs around here so it would’ve taken longer to finish if I’d chosen Rawlins. I liked the sense of community my buddies who lived here had. My new neighbors were happy to keep an eye on my place since I traveled out of town so much.”

  “You made the right choice. Great house, great location.” She frowned. “That said . . . it’s a little too close to Bernice’s Beauty Barn for me.”

  “But Bernice is your aunt.”

  “Technically . . . yes. Her husband, Bob, and my dad were stepbrothers. Dad and Uncle Bob were pretty close, but Bernice wasn’t the type of aunt who’d host family gatherings during the holidays or on birthdays. Her clients at the hair salon know her far better than I ever have. So I do my best to avoid her because she’s Judgy McJudgerson with me.”

  “Well, sweet cheeks, you ain’t got that option today.”

  Riss stared at him until he met her glare. “What did you do?”

  “Set up an appointment for you with Bernice.”

  “Why in the hell would you do that?”

  Ike’s cheeks heated. “I thought she could give you some tips about washing your hair one-handed and other girl grooming stuff.”

  “But . . .” Her bottom lip quivered. Her eyes glistened with tears. “I thought you’d be washing my hair every night. And then you’d comb it in front of a crackling fire while we sipped wine and gazed longingly into each other’s eyes while we listened to soft rock classics.”

  His stomach clenched, until he caught that devilish look in her eyes. “Woman, you are a menace. You almost had me worried there for a moment.”

  “The trembling lip was too much?”

  Too much temptation. Since he’d kissed her just an hour ago, he’d discovered a new fascination with her lips.

  You promised no more kissing, so quit gazing dreamily at her mouth.

  “Ike?”

  He refocused on her eyes. “The tears were over the top. You’re not the type of woman to pout if you’re upset.”

  “More likely I’ll start throwing shit.” Her face sobered. “As far as Bernice . . . that was a thoughtful gesture, but I’m not up to facing her or her beauty shop cronies.”

  “That’s why she’s coming to my house instead of you goin’ over there.”

  “She’s making a house call? Gotta be a slow gossip day at the Beauty Barn.”

  “Or maybe, she’s worried about you and will do whatever it takes to help you.”

  Riss rolled her eyes.

  After Ike helped Riss into the house and removed her outerwear, he started guiding her toward the guest bedroom.

  Her pale skin and the pinched set to her mouth indicated pain. She didn’t make it past the couch.

  For the first time, Ike wondered if Riss crashing here was a good idea. The only women he’d lived with for more than two days were his sisters. How was he supposed to act around her? Since after that kiss, he couldn’t deny there was serious chemistry lurking below the surface, but his relationship with Riss wasn’t intimate.

  Then she said, “Could I get some water? I need to take my meds.”

  “Sure.”

  Riss already had her pills in hand when he returned. After she popped them in her mouth, she said, “What time is Bernice coming over?”

  “After the shop closes. Rest.”

  “Is that an order?”

  “Yes. Get used to it. I’ll be down the hall in my office.”

  She returned to her prone position. “Do you have a bell I can ring if I need something from you?”

  “A bell? You wish.” Ike snorted. “This ain’t Downton Abbey. Just holler if you want me.”

  “You know how loud
my voice is, so remember you said that.”

  Chapter Seven

  Riss woke up completely disoriented.

  These damn drugs. She couldn’t wait to be done with them.

  “I heard you rustlin’ around in here.”

  She barely withheld a scream when Ike’s face appeared above her.

  “How you feelin’?”

  “Groggy. Dirty. Embarrassed because I’m sure I smell like a sewer. I need a shower.”

  He crouched down. “A bath would be easier.”

  “I’m all ears on how we can accomplish that, cowboy.”

  “Best way would be to wrap your cast in plastic. While you were sacked out I cut some garbage bags to size and I’ll tape them around the plaster until it’s covered. Probably won’t be the most comfortable bath, keepin’ your arm on the edge of the tub the whole time.”

  “I don’t care as long as I can get clean.” She slowly sat up. “Can we do it now? Please, please, please?”

  “Sure.” He stood and crossed the room. “But I’ll hafta take your shirt off first.”

  Riss groaned. “I hate that I can’t even get undressed by myself. But at least it’s you undressing me. It’s not like you haven’t seen the girls bouncin’ free a time or two before.”

  When Ike faced her, his cheeks were pink.

  “What? You’d be lyin’ if you said you hadn’t looked that night at the Phillipsburg Rodeo when I got a little wild and crazy.”

  “Oh, I looked, all right. But seein’ you tipsy on tequila and topless on the back of a steer, in front of an arena full of drunken fools is way different than seein’ your girls up close and personal as I’m waterproofing your cast in my house.”

  Usually she’d snap back with a lewd retort, but damn . . . she couldn’t think of a single response for that.

  Then he flashed her that cocky cowboy grin. “But that don’t mean I’m gonna look away this time either.”

  She tried—and failed—not to blush.

  “Come on, smelly. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  * * *

  As Riss lounged in the bathtub, she tried to think of something other than Ike Palmer’s gentleness. That he had a softer side hadn’t thrown her as much as how much she’d needed someone to show her tenderness.

  She’d kept up her screw-you attitude with her brothers, because admitting to being in pain wouldn’t have changed anything. They’d expected her to suck it up so she had.

  While her arm had a persistent gnawing pain, the aches all over her body were worse. She’d fallen down twice. Then a ladder body-slammed her, so she had bruises everywhere. Her skin resembled a spotted cow.

  And she hadn’t known how bad she looked until she’d seen the horror on Ike’s face.

  Thank god she hadn’t gotten naked until after he’d wrapped her cast. Even the pieces of stiff plastic were gently warmed and conformed by his patient hands. He began the wrap at her wrist, looping the strips up as if he was mummifying her. When he reached the top of her biceps with the wrap, the back of his hand grazed the side of her breast. After the second layer of plastic, he’d stopped apologizing whenever his hand connected with her breast. But he hadn’t stopped watching how her nipples hardened at his every accidental touch, nor had he apologized—not that she expected it. Her body’s reaction was her issue, not his.

  She waited to strip until the tub had filled.

  But she couldn’t push the sweats down past her left butt cheek. “Dammit. I can’t do this.”

  Ike’s murmured, “That’s why I’m here. Let me help you,” resulted in her gripping his shoulder while he slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her sweats. The scrape of his fingertips on her bare skin led to an explosion of goose bumps across her entire body. After she stepped out of her sweatpants and underwear, she glanced down at him and witnessed his horrified look.

  Getting naked had never been a big deal for her. Yeah, she was a little chubby. So what. Yeah, where her skin wasn’t lily-white, it was covered with freckles. So what. She’d made peace with her body years ago. She refused to let anyone—male or female—body-shame her. Same with slut-shaming. She liked sex. Denying herself pleasure because of someone else’s archaic moral standard? Nope. The way she saw it, she had one life and she’d live it on her terms.

  So Ike’s distress wasn’t because her naked body disgusted him. His distress came from seeing the brunt of her injuries up close and personal.

  When he spread his palm across her bruised rib cage, with a whispered, “Gorgeous girl, that looks painful,” she didn’t bat his hand away. She didn’t move—she scarcely breathed when he continued to inspect every mark on the front side of her battered body.

  And Ike probably would’ve given her backside the same treatment, but he had a flash of remorse for his intimate examination and abruptly stepped away with a gruff, “Get in. The water’s getting cold.”

  For the next step, climbing into the tub, Ike was more concerned with keeping her from falling than gawking at her bouncing breasts and ass.

  After she’d assured him she’d be fine and careful alone in the tub, he’d bailed.

  That was when the tears came.

  Tears of gratitude for him reminding her that it was okay to let someone take care of you. A reminder that showing kindness and tenderness shouldn’t be considered a burden.

  Her stomach roiled with the awful suspicion that her brother had called Jade in hopes of ridding himself of the burden of taking care of her. Lonnie counted on Jade being the sweet, loving, loyal friend who’d insist that Riss recover at her house. Riss had no doubt Jade had offered.

  So how had she ended up staying with Ike Palmer? Tobin would’ve done whatever Jade asked of him, including welcoming Riss into their home. So had Tobin asked for Ike’s intervention? Or had Ike been telling the truth about volunteering to take her in?

  Their personal issues aside, Ike was a good guy. But this situation went beyond letting a buddy crash at your place for a few days. And she hadn’t even taken into account how that amazing kiss could change things between them.

  No way was that just acting. No freakin’ way.

  But with his promise it wouldn’t happen again . . . she’d have to forget about it too.

  It wasn’t like she didn’t have other more pressing things to worry about. How much this accident would cost her with hospitalization and surgery, not to mention rehab. Not only were her out-of-pocket medical expenses a concern, but so were her lost wages. Her reputation for being a reliable driver meant steady work. If she had to lose three or four months to recovery, would she have to work twice as hard to get back to the position of seniority where she’d been just a week ago?

  All these questions made her head pound.

  Plus, there was the issue of her trailer. Letting it sit there unattended with no heat and no water for weeks during the winter was a terrible option, but the only one she had until she could be on-site. Then she’d have to make some tough decisions to stay financially afloat. One decision in particular weighed on her, but chances were good that the work thing Ike wanted to discuss would make that decision easier.

  Easier. Right. As if anything in her life was ever easy.

  Everything was fucked.

  She sank deeper into the tub, using her toes to turn the handle for the hot water.

  At least she had this moment of bliss.

  Two loud raps sounded on the door.

  She said, “Come in,” expecting Ike.

  But Bernice answered. “Lord, child. Lookit you.”

  “I know. I’m beat to shit. And it’s my own fault so can you just get the lecture over with?”

  “Why am I not surprised that’s the first thing that came outta that mouth?”

  “I’m sorry.” She paused. “Thanks, Aunt Bernice, for takin’ time out of your busy day to help me out. I appreci
ate it.”

  Bernice flipped on the bathroom fan before she settled on the toilet next to the tub. Then she held a slim metal e-cigarette to her frosted lips and took a long pull.

  “Ike won’t like that you’re smokin’ in here.”

  She exhaled—and the “smoke” immediately dissipated. “He ain’t gonna know. This is cherry scented.”

  “I thought you quit.”

  “I quit buying tobacco cigarettes. Now I vape.” She inhaled again. “All the cool kids are doin’ it.”

  For as long as Riss could remember, her aunt had looked the same. Same pale red teased hair. Same apple-shaped body. Same polyester clothes. Same row of bracelets up her arm. Same beringed fingers with perfectly manicured nails. “How is it you never seem to age?”

  “I was born an old soul.”

  She’d buy that.

  “But it might’ve put a few years on my face when I found out what happened to you.” She pointed with the e-cig. “From someone outside the family.”

  “Lonnie didn’t let you know?”

  “No. So I’m mad as hell, girl. You oughta know that up front.”

  “I figured you would be.”

  Aunt B cocked her head. “Did you ask Ike to call me?”

  Riss shook her head.

  “You’re stubborn as a goddamned mule.”

  “That’s not exactly news.”

  “Point taken. You about done with your leisurely soak?”

  “Yeah. The water is getting cold.”

  “You’ll be colder yet by the time I get through with your shampoo and set. Drain the tub and skootch over so I can see the stitches.”

  Bernice lowered to her knees and bent over the edge of the tub. Her fingers tenderly brushed the hair away from the gash on her scalp. “Does it hurt?”

  “Not as much as my arm.”

  “I’ll be gentle, sweetheart. But I will have to scrub a bit to get the dried blood off. I brought baby shampoo, so I’m hoping it won’t sting in that cut.”

  “I’d put up with it stinging my eyes if it meant I could have clean hair.”

 

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