by Susan Stoker
“I would’ve let you sleep, but I’m guessing you want to shower.”
“Oh, God, yes.”
“I need to get a plastic bag for your hand and also cover those other wounds before you get in though.”
“I can do it,” she told him.
“I know. But today you don’t have to. Let me help you.” Squirrel saw her hesitation. “I already saw them when the doctor stitched you up, remember? Besides, I’m a paramedic. I’ve seen more naked torsos than the most successful porn star.”
She smiled at that.
Pressing his advantage and not giving her a chance to come up with an excuse for him not to help, Squirrel ordered, “Stay there. I’ll be right back.” He removed her backpack and placed it on the floor next to the counter she was sitting on, then hurried out of the room.
It took him longer than he would’ve liked to find the plastic wrap and tape, but when he got back to the bathroom, Blythe was still sitting right where he’d left her. She’d kicked off her shoes, and seeing her sitting there, vulnerable and uneasy in her socks, hit him hard.
He helped her stand, making sure she was steady before he let go. Then, trying to ignore anything but the task at hand, he got to work taping the plastic wrap over her stitches. When he was done, he made the mistake of looking at Blythe’s face.
Her eyes were closed, and she was clinging to the counter behind her as if her life depended on it.
He didn’t see pain in her expression but had to ask. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she answered immediately.
Squirrel took hold of her uninjured hand clutching the edge of the counter. “Are you sure? It’s okay to be in pain. I’m not going to think less of you.”
“It’s been so long since anyone’s touched me,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I can’t remember how long. Your fingers on me…” Her eyes opened and she pinned him with her gaze. “They make me feel human for the first time in a really long time.”
“Oh, baby…” And with that, Squirrel folded her carefully into his embrace.
What she didn’t know was that she made him feel like a man, a true man, for the first time in a really long time too.
He’d always thought of himself as an outsider, awkward. He’d loved school, which wasn’t exactly cool, and he had fit in with neither the scholarly crowd nor the athletes. But caring for Blythe, being there for her, made him feel ten feet tall—and suddenly all the labels he’d tried to fit himself into his entire life didn’t matter anymore.
He realized that it wasn’t looks, or what he wore or didn’t wear, that made someone a man. It was being there for the loved ones in your life. It was letting them cry on you and not feeling awkward about it. It was about doing what was necessary and right, even if it meant they would be upset with you. It was about caring for the people you loved with no expectation of getting anything in return.
The revelation was startling, but the knowledge began to settle deep in his soul. He was beginning to understand…maybe it didn’t matter if he wore glasses or wasn’t as buff as his friends. Maybe what mattered most was making sure the people he loved were safe.
He set Blythe away from him and reached for the plastic bag. He put it over her injured hand and gently taped it closed around her small wrist. He turned and reached into the shower and turned on the water, testing it until it was the perfect temperature. Hot, but not scalding.
“Be careful with your hand. You’re going to have to wash with only the other one, but you can stay in there as long as you want. There’s shampoo and conditioner and about four bottles of liquid soap. Apparently, Louise was addicted to the stuff. You have your choice of flowers, flowers, flowers, or gingerbread,” he teased. “Take your time, baby. Your stuff is here on the floor; it’s safe. I’ll close the door and will be in the other room, making you a snack. No one will bother you. Promise.”
“Thanks,” she told him, biting her lip.
“I know it’s morning, but you have to be exhausted. How about if, after your shower, you eat some breakfast then sleep?”
“Okay. But, Sawyer?”
He loved the sound of his name on her lips. “Yeah, baby?”
“You don’t have to babysit me. I know you have things to do.”
He shook his head. “Nope. You heard Sledge say that the chief gave me some time off.”
“But you can’t just sit in this house and hover.”
“Watch me.”
Blythe rolled her eyes. “You’re gonna be bored.”
“Not a chance in hell. Now hush and shower.”
She shook her head but then smiled. “Fine. Out.”
Squirrel loved seeing a bit of spunk in her. He’d caught glimpses of it during their conversations but seeing it firsthand was heady. “Yes, ma’am.”
He was at the door but turned back. “There’re a couple of new toothbrushes under the sink. Help yourself.”
Shutting the door behind him, Squirrel went straight to the dresser and pulled open the drawers, looking for something for Blythe to wear. Frustrated when he realized they were all empty, he ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to bring her to his own house but knew that wouldn’t go over well. It was a miracle as it was that he got Blythe to agree to come here. All it would take was one wrong move on his part and she’d probably disappear on him.
Remembering the go-bag he had in his Jeep, he spun and left the room. He came back minutes later with one of his Station 7 T-shirts. He kept a couple spare shirts and jeans in his Jeep in case he needed them at work. There had been more than one call when he’d arrived back at the station drenched with sweat. Having a change of clothes handy had become second nature.
He knocked on the bathroom door lightly and when Blythe didn’t answer, he cautiously opened it and peeked in. The room was full of steam from the hot shower and he could barely see.
But barely seeing didn’t mean not seeing. The opaque door to the shower kept him from making out Blythe’s form clearly, but what he could see, he liked. She was flushed from the warm water, and her skin contrasted with the white tiles behind her. He watched for a second as she bent back, rinsing her hair, and caught the moan before it left his throat.
The outline of her body, of her tits as she bent backward, made his dick instantly hard.
He turned away, ashamed of himself for looking at Blythe when she was vulnerable. He placed the folded shirt on the counter and eased the door shut. He left the bedroom and entered the kitchen, trying to get himself under control.
Half an hour later, Squirrel heard something behind him and turned.
Blythe slowly walked into the small living room off the kitchen. She was wearing his shirt, which hit her about mid-thigh. She fingered the hem nervously as she stopped and stared at him.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey,” Squirrel replied. “Shower okay?”
“God, yes,” Blythe sighed. “I forgot what a luxury it was to be able to take my time and not have to worry about anyone…er… Anyway, yes, it was nice.”
Squirrel felt his muscles tensing at what she didn’t say. He took a deep breath to try to calm himself down. “How’s your hand?”
She shrugged. “It’s okay.”
He studied her. She shifted uneasily on her feet and wouldn’t meet his gaze. Her brow was furrowed and he didn’t miss the way she gingerly held her injured hand in front of her.
“Come sit,” he ordered, pulling out a chair at the small table in the kitchen.
She obeyed without question, further telling him that she wasn’t feeling her best. When she got close, he could smell the plumeria soap she’d used in the shower. It fit her. Her cheeks were still flushed from the heat of the water and her skin glowed now that she’d been able to properly clean herself. Squirrel tried not to look at her legs, but he couldn’t help it. She had long, slender legs, and when she sat, the hem of his shirt rose up several inches.
A sudden vision of her straddling his lap in a chair just l
ike the one she was sitting in flashed through his brain. His shirt would rise up, and she wouldn’t be wearing panties. He’d be able to unzip his jeans, take out his dick, and—
Squirrel shook his head. God, he was an asshole. Blythe was hurt, and probably scared. He shouldn’t be thinking about how good she’d feel as he sank inside her.
“Dammit,” he mumbled, turning away and heading for the stove.
“What’s wrong?” Blythe asked from her seat.
“Nothing,” he said immediately, trying to control himself.
“I’m a big girl,” she protested. “Don’t treat me like a child. It’ll just piss me off. If Sophie changed her mind and doesn’t want me here, that’s fine; just tell me and I’ll go.”
Squirrel was on his knees at her side before she’d finished talking. He put one hand on her knee and the other on the side of her neck. “Nothing’s wrong. I swear. Sophie wants you here. I was just…” He took a deep breath before continuing, then laid it all on the line. “I’m attracted to you, Blythe. I know you’re hungry and I need to feed you. I can tell you’re in pain and that you need rest. But seeing you in my shirt, and your bare legs…it’s all I can do not to scoop you up and carry you to bed. That’s why I swore, because you’re almost impossible to resist, and the last thing you need right now is to have to fend off a horny male.”
She stared down at him in surprise. Her mouth open, eyes wide.
Squirrel moved his hand to the top of her head and ran it over her now clean short hair. He continued his gentle exploration, running his hand over her shoulder then down her arm. He took hold of both wrists gently and held them in her lap. “Can you forgive me for being a letch?”
She smiled then. A grin so big it completely lit up her face. Her gaze dropped and wandered down his body. Squirrel forced himself to remain still, to let her look her fill. He knew with the way he was kneeling next to her there was no way she’d be able to miss his erection, so he didn’t try to hide it.
It was obvious when she noticed how hard he was by her quick inhalation of breath, but she didn’t yank out of his grasp. He patiently waited until she was looking him in the eye once again. Her face had a deeper hue of pink from her blush—and it only made him want her all the more.
“I…I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he reassured her. “You have nothing to worry about with me. You’re safe here. From me, from those assholes who tried to hurt you, and from anything that might try to bring you down. This is your safe haven. A place to regroup and jump-start your life. Got it?”
Blythe bit her lip and didn’t look reassured in the least. Squirrel sighed and moved to stand and give her some space.
He didn’t get far as her good hand shot out and grabbed his forearm.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve even thought about sex. It’s hard to think about that when you’re hungry, cold, and trying to find a safe place to close your eyes for an hour or so.”
Squirrel winced, but she continued.
“It’s weird for me to go from thinking I was going to be raped and murdered, to being surrounded by people who say they only want to help me. Even weirder to be sitting here in front of the man who has literally been my lifeline for months, and to realize that my libido picked a hell of a time to kick back in. I…I think I want you too, Squirrel. But I’m not ready.”
“Then we’ll wait. We’ll wait until you’re sure you want me, baby. There’s no rush. I’m an ass for even bringing it up. You’ve got enough on your plate right now.”
She squeezed his arm. “Don’t apologize for being honest, for not hiding your feelings for me. On the streets, people would lie to their mothers if it got them something they wanted or needed.”
“I won’t ever lie to you, Blythe. Swear.”
As if his words were exactly what she needed to hear, Squirrel could practically see the muscles in her body relax.
“I’m gonna make you an omelet. Is that all right?”
“I haven’t had eggs in forever. Real eggs, that is. Not the boxed stuff they serve at the shelters.”
“Good. There’s not much in the way of fillings, but I found some cheese and some red and green peppers that are still edible. That work?”
“Sounds heavenly,” Blythe replied. Her eyes darted down once more to between his thighs, then skittered away. “Are you…does that hurt?”
Squirrel stood and leaned over. He kissed the top of her head then put a finger under her chin and gently encouraged her to look at him. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of it after you fall asleep and I’m in the shower.”
She gaped at him. “I can’t believe you just said that!”
“What? That I’m going to masturbate?”
She closed her eyes. “Stop. This is so embarrassing.”
Squirrel grinned. She was so much fun to tease. He waited until her eyes opened and she looked at him again. “It’s not embarrassing. Since we just said we wouldn’t lie to each other, I’ll admit that it won’t be the first time I’ve gotten off while thinking about you.”
And with that, he caressed the side of her face in a feather-light touch, then turned and went to the stove to make her breakfast.
Blythe knew she was blushing but couldn’t help it. She couldn’t believe Sawyer had just flat-out admitted that he’d jerked off to thoughts of her. That he was going to do it in the shower after breakfast.
She hadn’t lied to him, it’d been forever since she’d had any sexual thoughts whatsoever. Being homeless didn’t exactly lend itself to feeling sexy or wanting to hop in bed with someone.
But since she didn’t have any clean panties to put on after her shower, she was wearing his shirt, and only his shirt. She was particularly in tune with her naked body at the moment because of her attire, and she was damp between her legs—and it wasn’t because she hadn’t dried off properly after reluctantly stepping out of the heavenly shower.
It wasn’t normal to have feelings toward someone so quickly…was it?
She thought about that seriously for a moment. Then had to acknowledge that she’d had feelings for Sawyer way before now. Even though they’d only seen each other that one time, talking to him for months without the complications of sexual attraction had helped her really get to know him.
And since she was trying to be honest with herself, she admitted that she’d already come to rely on him way more than was probably healthy for someone in her situation. But her situation had now changed. She wasn’t on the streets anymore, even though she could be back there in a heartbeat.
She liked Sawyer. Liked him a lot. And if pressed, she knew she’d probably say yes to anything he wanted to do with her. That should’ve scared her, but it didn’t. Because she knew the kind of man Sawyer was.
Good. Honest. Hard-working. Protective. Generous.
She could go on and on.
She was startled out of her thoughts when Sawyer placed a plate in front of her. Blythe gaped at it. He’d made her the biggest omelet she’d ever seen. He’d also melted cheese inside the eggs but garnished it with more on top as well.
“I can’t eat all that!” she exclaimed.
Sawyer merely shrugged. “Then eat as much as you can. I’ll put the rest away and you can have it when you get up later.”
“Thank you.”
“You never have to thank me for feeding you, baby.”
Blythe looked up in surprise at the seriousness of his words. He was staring down at her with a look she couldn’t decipher.
“It kills me knowing that you’re so slender because you weren’t getting enough to eat. I hate that you were forced to rely on the charity of those shelters for food. And I’m not an idiot…I know that when you couldn’t get into one, you either went hungry or scavenged what you could. The last thing you ever have to worry about again is finding something to eat. You want doughnuts? I’ll run out and get them for you. Have a craving for sushi? No problem, I’ll make that h
appen. Making you an omelet for breakfast is my pleasure, Blythe.”
“I don’t want to always be in your debt. I don’t want you to look at me and only see the homeless woman I was. If you can’t get past it, whatever this is between us will never work out.” She was scared to say the words, but she had to.
Squirrel pulled out a chair next to her and settled in. He leaned toward her on his elbows and said, “When I look at you, I see an amazing woman who’s overcome incredible odds. I’ve put labels on people my entire life, myself included, and you’ve helped me realize that’s not a good way to live, nor is it fair. The fact that you were homeless is not who you are. It’s what happened to you. There’s a difference.”
“If you’re always going to be worried about whether or not I’m eating, there’s no difference.”
“Bullshit,” he said softly, with no heat behind the word. “I’m always going to be worried about you. That’s a guarantee. It makes no difference whether you live in a box on the street or in the world’s biggest mansion. Just as I will always worry about my sisters and parents. I want to make sure they’re safe, they’re happy, and that they have everything they need to be healthy. It’s what I do. It’s who I am.”
“I need to do this by myself,” Blythe protested. Not really sure what “this” was, but knowing she needed to somehow find the woman she used to be before she jumped into any kind of relationship where she allowed someone to take care of her.
“You are doing this yourself,” Sawyer countered. “Accepting help to get back on your feet doesn’t mean that you aren’t. You’re the one who will have to figure out what you want to do for a living, what kind of apartment you can afford, where you want to go from here. But I hope like hell you’ll let me stand by your side as you figure it all out.”
Blythe couldn’t help but grin. “Stand by my side holding a hotdog and feeding it to me when I’m hungry, right?”
He returned her smile. “Exactly. Now eat before it gets cold.”
She rolled her eyes but picked up her fork and dug in. After a few bites, she asked, “Aren’t you having anything?”
Sawyer shook his head. “Nope. I’ll grab something later.”