by Gina Wilkins
“I didn’t say you couldn’t do it yourself. I said I’m here to give you a hand, if you’d like. If you’d rather handle it yourself, fine.”
After only a momentary hesitation, he nodded. “It would be faster if you help. Uh, thanks.”
Because she knew what it probably cost him to accept assistance from her—from anyone, really, being such a fiercely independent sort—she wasn’t bothered by his somewhat less than gracious acceptance. “Maybe you should sit down so I can reach it better. Does it need to be cleaned? Should I bring a washcloth?”
“It’s not dirty. The bandage was wet and uncomfortable, so I thought I should swap it for a dry one.”
“Makes sense.” She reached for the half-removed bandage and eased it away from his injury. With an effort she kept her expression impassive when she saw the jagged, six-inch row of close-set stitches that marched across his shoulder. The skin around the threads was puckered, but the redness didn’t seem to be spreading and his shoulder wasn’t hot to her touch, so the meds must be working.
“Are you supposed to put antibiotic ointment on the stitches?”
Sitting on the end of the bed, he nodded toward a tube on the dresser. “Just a little. Only reason I wear the bandage is to keep my shirt from rubbing the stitches.”
Using a square of gauze, she dabbed ointment lightly over the wound. Their heads were so close she felt his warm breath on her cheek.
Did he lift weights these days? When she’d known him before, he’d been slender and athletic, but the muscles in his arms and chest hadn’t been quite as well-defined. He was definitely a man in peak condition despite the injury. And if her fingers lingered for a moment on a taut bicep—well, that could be attributed to incidental contact while she prepared the area for the new bandage.
The shadowed room was silent except for the soft splash of rain on the windows. She was all too aware of the rumpled bed, the masculine clutter of clothes and toiletries, the mounting warmth in the air. She felt a need to fill the quiet, though she would try not to slip into nervous prattling. “You said you had surgery on your shoulder? Did you tear a ligament or something?”
“Something like that.”
The very blandness of his nonreply made her hands go still. In a flash, she was taken back to her childhood, watching her mom patch up the latest injury her dad had acquired in one of his reckless stunts, either on the job or off. Just as it had when she was an anxious child, her stomach knotted painfully.
“You weren’t, um, shot, were you?” she asked, voicing the worst nightmare that had haunted her when Gavin announced his determination to don a badge.
“I wasn’t shot.”
And that was all he was going to tell her. He couldn’t have made it clearer if he’d said it outright.
Taking the less-than-subtle hint, she bit her lip and finished applying the bandage without speaking again. She smoothed tape over the clean gauze, taking her time to make sure the edges were well sealed. Her hand still resting on his shoulder, she glanced at his face to make sure she wasn’t hurting him, only to find him looking gravely back at her. For a fleeting moment, she saw in his eyes a hint of the Gavin she’d once known—younger, more open, less hardened by his job and experiences.
Her breath caught hard in her throat as more memories crashed through her mind in a kaleidoscope of broken images. Hungry kisses. Heated caresses. Nights of passion more overwhelming than anything she’d experienced before. Or since, for that matter. Which was totally understandable, right? Wasn’t it supposed to be that way when a woman’s thoughts drifted back to her first love?
The shadows seemed to deepen in the room around them, enclosing them in a cozy corner of soft light spilling in through the single window. Her gaze lowered slowly, pausing on his mouth. His lips looked so stern and firm, yet she remembered them as warm and eager. If she allowed herself, she suspected she could still recall their taste. It was probably—definitely—best if she kept that memory locked away along with all the others.
His voice was rough when he broke the silence. “That should do it.”
“What? Oh.” Realizing he referred to the bandage, she dropped her hand and stepped quickly back. “Yes, that should hold.”
“Jenny...”
A heavy pounding on the front door made them both start and turn in that direction. Jenny heard someone shouting, a muffled male voice calling Gavin’s name. They hadn’t locked the front door. She heard it open, heard the voice more clearly. “Gavin? Hey, buddy, you in here? You okay?”
“Rob.” Shaking his head, Gavin pushed himself to his feet and called out, “I’m here. Hang on.”
Snatching up a dry T-shirt, he moved toward the bedroom door without looking back at Jenny. She followed quickly. It occurred to her that if someone had made it up the road to the cabin, that meant she could now drive down. It was probably only because she was so tired that she wasn’t more excited by that realization.
* * *
Rob Lopez peered around the cabin door, squinting into the shadows as he called out again. “Hey, Gav? Are you— Oh, there you are.”
Pulling the T-shirt over his head, Gavin moved to greet his friend. He was surprised to see him there. His pals had a standing invitation to join him whenever he was using the cabin, but usually they called before showing up. “Hey, Rob. What are you doing here? How’d you get past the flood and the downed tree?”
Rob opened the door all the way, shaking water out of his curly dark hair like a wet labradoodle as he stood just outside on the porch. “I won’t come in—my boots are too muddy. We drove up in J.T.’s off-road rig. Nearly floated it at the bottom of the hill. You have two trees uprooted, by the way. There’s another a quarter mile down the road. I left the other guys working down there, and I hiked up to let you know we’re here—in the rain, I might add, though it’s almost stopped now, at least for a little while. You’re going to owe me for this one.”
“Other guys?”
“Yeah. J.T. and— Oh. Hello.” Rob was looking over Gavin’s shoulder and it wasn’t hard to guess what, or rather who, had brought the look of surprised speculation to his face.
Belatedly realizing that donning his shirt as he’d entered Rob’s field of vision might have given him the wrong idea about what he and Jenny had been doing in the bedroom, Gavin cleared his throat. “Rob Lopez, this is Jenny Baer. Jenny and I knew each other back in college. Long story, but Lizzie at the leasing office screwed up and rented the cabin to Jenny for the weekend. Jenny didn’t expect to find me here when she arrived in the middle of the storm last night.”
Rob’s eyebrows lifted. “Well, that’s awkward. Is that your car out front, Jenny?”
“Yes.” If she was at all uncomfortable, it didn’t show in her polite expression when she moved fully into the room. “I arrived just ahead of the worst part of the storm. Gavin allowed me to sleep on his couch last night and I’ve been trying to help him clear the drive today.”
Rob glanced from her to Gavin and back. “He put you on the couch? What’s wrong with the back bedroom?”
“Roof’s leaking,” Gavin grumbled. “Lost a few shingles in the storms last night. I was going to work on that after I got the trees out of the road. Power’s out, too.”
Rob nodded. “We can help with the roof. Looks like you’ve made good progress on the near tree. Won’t take long to haul it out of the way, assuming the next wave of rain holds off long enough.”
Feeling increasingly disoriented, Gavin pushed his left hand through his hair. “You want to tell me what y’all are doing here?”
With a shrug, his friend answered lightly, “Impulsive road trip. We heard about the storm damage in this area. There wasn’t any destruction to deal with in our part of the state, so we figured you could use an extra hand—or six—with cleanup here. You being short a hand of your own and all. W
e didn’t know you already had a very nice pair of hands up here helping out.”
Rob winked at Jenny as he spoke. The way she smiled in response made it clear that the woman who’d been so notably composed during the past few hours was not immune to Rob’s notorious charm. Gavin felt his brows drawing into a scowl, and he deliberately smoothed his expression. It wasn’t his business if Jenny fell for Rob’s overused lines.
He moved abruptly toward the door. “I left my boots and gloves on the porch. Jenny, now that the guys are here to help, there’s no need for you to come back out. You can just rest in here for now.”
Reaching up to tidy her ponytail, she crossed the room behind him. “Actually, I’d just as soon help rather than sit in here in the dark. My tablet and phone are getting low on power, so I can’t really work, anyway.”
He had no good argument. He certainly couldn’t tell her he found her presence too distracting while he tried to work.
“Whatever you want to do.” Without looking back at her again, he all but pushed past Rob to step out onto the porch and reach for his boots.
“Easy, bro,” Rob murmured with a low chuckle. “A guy might think something—or somebody—has got you all hot and bothered.”
Gavin shot his friend a look that made Rob back off quickly with both hands raised and a devilish twinkle in his dark eyes.
Rob watched as Jenny perched on the edge of a porch chair to lace on her bedraggled, once-bright sneakers. “Hate to tell you this, but I think those shoes might be goners,” he said. “Doubt they’ll ever be clean again.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve pretty much figured that out already. I didn’t think to bring work boots with me.”
“I told you it wasn’t necessary for you to slog through the mud with me this morning,” Gavin felt compelled to point out. “But I’ll pay for the shoes, anyway, when I refund your rental money. None of this was your fault.”
Pulling the second lace tight, she stood and reached for the muddy gloves she’d worn earlier. “Of course you won’t pay for my shoes. Don’t be silly.”
Something about her tone made him scowl again. Had she just brushed him off? He glared after her as she walked down the steps with Rob, but she didn’t glance back. With a grumble, he snatched up the chain saw and followed.
“Big tree,” Rob commented unnecessarily as they approached the fallen oak. “You got a lot of it cut up this morning.”
“I figure I can drag the rest of it out of the way with my truck. There’s a heavy chain and a few more tools locked in the utility shed behind the cabin.”
Rob nodded. “Might be better to hook it up to J.T.’s heavier rig. They should have the other tree out of the road pretty quick. It’s not nearly as big as this one. They were dredging out the ditches at that low spot with shovels, too, to help the water run off faster.”
“Maybe I should take that branch off while we wait.” Gavin motioned toward the one he meant. “If the trunk rolls when we try to move it, that one could dig in and give us problems.”
“Agreed. But why don’t you let me cut it? That shoulder’s got to be giving you fits by now.”
Actually, the pain was a heck of a lot worse than that, but he didn’t want to admit it. Especially in front of Jenny. “Fine, you cut the limb while I get the chain. It’s too bulky to carry, but I can bring it around in the back of my truck. Jenny...”
“I’ll help Rob.” Donning her safety glasses, she moved into position to grab hold of the branch after it was cut. As he turned to head around the side of the cabin, Gavin could already hear Rob chatting with Jenny as if they were old friends. But then, Rob had never met an attractive woman he didn’t like. An impressive percentage of them liked him in return.
He wouldn’t have thought Rob was Jenny’s type. An EMT Gavin had met in the line of duty a few years ago, Rob was hardly in the same league with the guy his mother said Jenny had dated—and was possibly still seeing. But whatever.
Feeling increasingly grumpy and blaming it on the weather, his discomfort and his weariness, he shoved his hand into his pocket to retrieve the key to the utility shed. All in all, the best thing he could do now was to focus on the tasks at hand. He’d deal with his unexpected visitors—all of them—as best he could during the process.
* * *
It didn’t take Rob long to cut through the branch Gavin had pointed out. Jenny realized only then how much Gavin had been held back by his injured shoulder. Remembering the stitches that had marched across his taut skin, she bit her lip. He must be terribly uncomfortable, to say the least, though he would fall over face-first before he would admit it. Even as a young man, he’d hated acknowledging when he was sick or hurting. She’d once teased him of being afraid testosterone would leak out of his ears if he confessed to any weakness. She could still remember the way he’d grinned, kissed her and murmured, “You’re my only weakness, Jen.”
Breaking into the painful memory, Rob planted his foot on the tree trunk and snapped off a smaller branch with his hands. He tossed it in the ditch on top of the others. “Sounds like a pretty harrowing night. You’re lucky you made it here safely through the storm.”
“I was foolish to be out in it. I didn’t pay close enough attention to the weather reports.”
He eyed her over another fallen branch he’d just picked up. “Were you planning to do some fishing while you were here?”
She laughed softly at the image of herself handling a squirming fish. “No. It was just supposed to be a private work retreat.”
Didn’t other people feel the need occasionally to get away, to find a quiet place alone to think and plan and evaluate? True, it wasn’t something she had done before, but it had made sense to her when the idea had occurred to her. Gavin had had a similar plan; he’d holed up here to rest and heal in peaceful privacy. The weekend hadn’t worked out as either had expected obviously.
Casting a lingering look around at the sodden landscape, Rob said, “Couldn’t ask for a more peaceful place for a hideaway, normally. Gavin’s been really generous letting me come up here when I needed to get away and if the place wasn’t already rented out. I’ve spent quite a few pleasant hours sitting on that porch in the dark, drinking a cold beer and listening to the frogs and crickets.”
“That was my plan,” she said with a wistful smile. She hated beer, but she mentally substituted a cup of tea and was sorry she would miss the experience. “Of course, it wouldn’t have worked out even if it hadn’t been for the storm. Once I’d discovered Gavin was using his cabin and it had been leased to me by mistake, I’d have left immediately and found another place to stay for the weekend.”
“I doubt he minded sharing for one night,” Rob murmured just as Gavin parked his truck nearby and climbed out with a slam of his door.
Gavin reached into the back of the truck and started to lift a chain, but he dropped it almost immediately. The metal links clanked against the truck bed, not quite drowning out his muttered curse. Apparently he’d unthinkingly used his right arm and the heavy chain had hurt his shoulder. Instinctively, she moved toward him to help, but Rob cleared his throat softly, stopping her midstride. Without looking their way, Gavin switched arms, grabbed the chain with his left hand and hauled it out of the truck, dropping it at their feet. Hefting another branch, Rob acted as though he’d noticed nothing.
Hearing the roar of a motor, Jenny looked around to see a heavy-duty rig powering up the muddy hill. With an extra set of oversize wheels on the back, an extended cab and a row of floodlights across the top, the truck looked made for hauling, towing and chewing up rough terrain. It stopped just short of the downed tree, and two thirtysomething men climbed out. The driver was well over six feet tall, black, broad-shouldered and male-model handsome, the passenger shorter, ginger-haired and built like a linebacker. Gavin definitely hung out with the athletic crowd, but then he always
had. As a matter of fact, he’d been hanging out with the redhead for quite a long time, she realized.
Avery Harper glanced curiously in her direction as he and his companion approached. He stopped suddenly in his tracks. “Jenny? Jenny Baer?”
She pushed a wet strand of hair out of her face. “Hello, Avery. It’s nice to see you again.”
Green eyes wide with shock, Avery looked from her to Gavin and back again. “Wow. Are you two...? I mean... Wow.”
“Jenny didn’t know I was here when she drove up last night.” Gavin sounded weary, as if he had already grown tired of explaining. She could understand. How many more times were they going to have to recount, both together and separately, how they’d ended up spending a night together in his cabin? He finished giving the quick summary of last night’s events to his friends, introduced J. T. Dennett to Jenny, then barely gave them time to exchange hellos before launching into his plan for clearing the drive.
Feeling somewhat in the way, she moved back as the four men attached a chain to the fallen tree and then connected it to the tow hitch on J.T.’s truck. She noticed that Gavin’s friends did most of the heavy work, nudging him out of the way to keep him from overusing his injured arm. They weren’t particularly subtle about it, but were so casually jovial that he took no offense.
“Better stand back,” Avery advised, moving to Jenny’s side when J.T. climbed behind the wheel of the truck. “Just in case.”
Together they moved a few feet backward while Gavin and Rob stepped off to the other side to call out directions to J.T.
“So, you didn’t know Gav was here,” Avery commented a little too blandly.
“No,” she said firmly. “Not a clue. And he had no warning that I’d rented the place.”
“Huh. I have to admit, I was surprised to see you here, but his explanation made sense, even if it was a crazy coincidence.”
“Well, I’m glad you found it believable,” she said drily.