Lean on Me (Serendipity Book 1)

by Kali Argent

  “Cecily.”

  Easing her foot back to the ground, Rafe stood and brushed the dirt from his jeans. “Excuse me?”

  “My name is Cecily Baker, not sweetheart.”

  “Well, Cecily Baker, I’m Rafe Sorento, and I’m headed in the same direction. If you don’t want a cab, at least let me help you home.”

  The muscles in her jaw ticked, and he could practically see the war raging inside her head. Silently, he waited for her to work it out, hoping good sense would win out over stubborn pride. He wouldn’t leave her to fend for herself, but a little cooperation would make helping her much easier.

  “Okay…yes.” The sigh that rolled from her painted lips said she didn’t like it, but she was a practical lady, just as Rafe had predicted. “I’m two streets up at the Garden Apartments.” Ducking her head, she tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it. So, how do you want to do this?” He reached for her waist but stopped short. “Um, well.” Taking her wrist, he pulled her arm around his neck, bending to accommodate her shorter stature. Still, he didn’t know what to do with his other hand. “I think…if we…uh…”

  “Relax.” Cecily removed her arm from around his neck and leaned against his side with a little shake of her head. Then she took his free hand and guided it to encircle her midsection. “Unless you want to haul me home in a fireman’s carry, I think this is our best option.”

  Even in the unflattering light, Cecily’s ivory skin glowed flawlessly, and her long, curls created soft shadows that drew his eye to the curve of her neck. Heat radiated through her thin dress to warm his palm, and Rafe gritted his teeth against the groan building in his chest.

  “The Garden Apartments?” He coughed to clear the gravel from his throat. “How long have you lived there?”

  “About four years now.” The tightness in her voice testified to her level of pain, but she didn’t complain as she limped beside him. “Thank you again. I’m sure this isn’t how you planned to spend your night.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I like to think I’m something of a superhero. Leaping tall buildings, racing bullets, and helping beautiful damsels in distress. It’s all in the job description.”

  She laughed at his lame joke, a deep, throaty chuckle that tripped his pulse into a gallop. “Mild-mannered bouncer by night, milder-mannered superhero by later night? Sounds intriguing.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not all fun and games.” The breeze shifted, bringing with it the faint scent of floral perfume mixed with just a hint of vodka. “I mean, where do you even find a phone booth these days?”

  Nearing the crosswalk, Cecily pulled him to a stop and leaned heavily against his side. “Just one second, okay? Sorry about this.”

  He could tell her not to apologize, but he got the impression that would be exactly the wrong thing to say. “I’m not in any hurry,” he answered instead. “I don’t have anywhere to be, and it’s not like there’s someone waiting up for me.”

  “Oh, you live alone?” She sounded only mildly curious as she reached over to drop her shoes into a nearby city trash bin. “I really liked those shoes.” Her nose scrunched up adorably, and her eyes creased at the corners. “They hurt like hell, but they were pretty.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss. We’ll look into grief counseling in the morning.”

  Cecily’s husky laughter ended abruptly when she sucked in a sharp breath through gritted teeth. “Light’s green.” She nodded toward the crosswalk sign on the other side of the intersection. “I’m ready.” As they started across the street, she leaned on him a little more heavily, letting him take just a bit more of her weight. “You never did answer. About living alone?”

  “Miss Baker, are you flirting with me? Trying to get me all to yourself?”

  “I already have you to myself, Mr. Sorento, but don’t worry. I promise not to take advantage.” Her voice trembled a little as she spoke, and she shivered against him.

  Mentally berating himself, he stopped near a lamp post on the other side of the intersection. “Hold on to this for a second.” Once she was steady on her feet—or foot, as it were—he stepped away, stripped out of his jacket, then turned to drape it around her shoulders. “Here. This should be better.”

  “You didn’t have to…” Pulling the jacket tighter around her, she pressed her nose to the collar and smiled. “Thank you.”

  Gathering her against his side again, he started walking, wishing he could do more for her, but instinctively knowing she wouldn’t allow it. All too soon, however, her apartment building loomed ahead, its windows illuminated with soft, amber lights, or flickering with the glow of television sets.

  “Almost there. How are you doing?”

  “It hurts,” she admitted, “but I’ll live.”

  He liked that. Truthful and to the point without being manipulative or attention-seeking.

  “Here we are,” he announced a few minutes later when they arrived at her building, right at the foot of an open, concrete stairwell. “Home, safe and mostly sound, as promised.”

  “My hero.”

  “Indeed.” He gazed up at the zigzagging stairwell. “Tell me you’re not on the fifth floor.”

  “Okay, I won’t tell you.”

  Rafe frowned. “Just how do plan to get up to your apartment, then?”

  Easing away from him, she offered a half-hearted shrug. “Carefully?”

  Stubborn woman. Without giving her the opportunity to argue, he kept one arm around her waist and stooped to hook the other behind her knees, sweeping her easily into his arms.

  Cecily squealed, a sound he didn’t think her capable of making, and swatted at his chest. “What the hell are you doing? Put me down!”

  “How else do you plan to make it up five flights of stairs?”

  “Shut up.” She grumbled a little under her breath, but after a moment, she settled into his arms and stopped squirming. “Are you always like this?”

  “Like what?”

  “Logical.”

  “Not really.” He shook his head as he began the climb to the fifth floor. “It’s probably fifty-fifty.”

  “You’re not like other guys,” she muttered somewhere near the third-floor landing.

  It sounded like a compliment. She looked thoughtful instead of irritated when she said it. He decided to take it as a compliment.

  Reaching the uppermost level, he headed toward the end of the corridor, following Cecily’s instructions to the last door on the left. “Do you need help getting settled?”

  He expected her obstinacy to return in full force, so he was surprised when she nodded after only a brief hesitation.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it.” Tilting her head to the side, she studied him thoughtfully. “You’re not a serial killer, right?”

  “Not recently.”

  Gently, he lowered her to the ground, but left his hand on her lower back to help stabilize her while she rummaged through her clutch for the key. Waiting for her to unlock the deadbolt, he let his mind drift, creating a short to-do list once they made it inside.

  She’d need to change, of course, and he’d have to clean the scrape on her knee. If she had bandages, he’d wrap her ankle, but she definitely needed to ice and elevate it. A pain reliever would make her more comfortable, but she would probably need something to eat before taking it.

  Still mulling over his mental checklist, he didn’t realize she’d opened the door, nor did he notice the nuclear meltdown in progress until a high-pitched screech jerked him out of his own head. Jesus, he hadn’t thought humans capable of making such a sound, but then again, he’d never met anyone like Cecily Baker.

  “Have you lost your freaking mind?” Even with her injured ankle and torn dress, Cecily commanded the attention of everyone in the room—especially the naked couple twined together on the leather sofa.

  She bit out each word, every syllable dripping with venom. Making a note to never find himself on
the wrong end of her temper, Rafe crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him. He’d had a front row seat to his share of family disagreements at the club, so he knew better than to step between Cecily and her sister.

  The guy cradling his dick with one hand while trying to pull on a pair of jeans with the other, however, didn’t get the same pass. If he even looked at either woman in a way Rafe found offensive, he had no problem tossing the punk out on his ear.

  “Where are your shoes?”

  “I broke a heel,” Cecily answered simply, turning toward her sister. She offered no further details.

  “And your dress? What the hell happened to your dress?”

  Holding the rip in her dress together, clearly trying to hide her injuries, Cecily straightened her spine and shook her head. “Stop trying to change the subject. We’re not talking about me.” Her icy stare shifted back to the young man when he cleared his throat. “Get. Out.”

  “Daniel, you don’t have to leave.” Cecily’s sister squared her shoulders, clearly trying to appear dignified. Not an easy accomplishment with nothing but a small, cashmere blanket covering her. “This is my apartment, too.”

  “Daniel?” Tilting her head to the side, Cecily eyed the guy and snorted in a way that said they’d met before…and she hadn’t been impressed. “Yes, Melissa, he most certainly does have to leave.”

  “So, what? You can bring a guy home, but I can’t?” She glared at Rafe as she spoke.

  “Yes,” Cecily responded, and she suddenly sounded exhausted. “I can’t do this. Not tonight.” She cast another fleeting glance toward Daniel, then back to her sister. “Don’t forget to put the dog out before you go to bed.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  No one on the planet could piss Cecily off quite like her sister.

  Melissa was charming, beautiful, and intelligent. She could captivate an entire room by doing nothing more than breathing. Unfortunately, she was also selfish, reckless, and completely convinced of her own self-importance. Worse, in the last couple of years, she’d developed the deplorable habit of measuring her self-worth based on her relationship status.

  It hadn’t always been that way. Once upon a time, she’d been a sweet, quiet, little girl who thought boys were gross and dreamed of being a veterinarian. Where the hell had that girl gone?

  Simmering just beneath Cecily’s anger, however, humiliation burned like a white-hot poker. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  Rafe held her around the waist, supporting the majority of her weight as she led the way down the hallway to her bedroom. “Believe it or not, I’ve seen naked people before.”

  “You know what I meant.”

  Pushing open the door, he held her tighter, practically carrying her to the bed where he lowered her gently to the edge of the mattress. “You need to elevate your ankle and get some ice on it.” He threaded his fingers through his raven hair, pushing the strands back from his face. “That knee also needs some attention. Do you have a first aid kit?”

  There were purple shadows beneath his eyes she hadn’t noticed before, and he moved slowly, sluggishly. “Thank you for everything, but go home, Rafe. You look dead on your feet.” He’d already done more than she had any right to expect from him. “Melissa will help me…once she’s dressed.”

  “Well, no offense, but Melissa seems to be indisposed at present. So, it looks like you’re stuck with me.” He shrugged. “You get changed. I’ll get the ice and find some aspirin.”

  Cecily didn’t want to appear ungrateful, and under different circumstances, she might not have been so eager to see the back of him. As it stood, her entire leg hurt like the ten shades of hell, and she was mortified over her sister’s behavior. More than anything, she just wanted to be alone.

  “Look, buddy, I appreciate your help, but I don’t know you.”

  “I don’t know you, either, lady.” Rafe rolled his eyes and placed a hand on her shoulder when she tried to stand. “You’re not going to be happy until you break that ankle, are you? If it makes you feel better, you can consider this part of the superhero package. There’s free Wi-Fi and a continental breakfast, too.”

  “Rafe…”

  But he just shook his head and slipped out of the room, disappearing down the hallway before she could devise a convincing argument.

  The lounge clothes she’d worn for most of the day still sat in a pile at the foot of the bed. The tattered, faded T-shirt, she’d had since high school, and the pink checkered pajama bottoms were at least one size too big. She liked her ratty old clothes, and since she worked from home, she saw no reason to be uncomfortable.

  Except for Melissa or the UPS guy, no one ever saw her in those clothes. Normally, she didn’t care what people thought of her, but she couldn’t deny there was something different about Rafe. She never let anyone tell her what to do in her own home, not even her sister, but there she sat, waiting for a guy she’d just met to bring her an ice pack and tuck her into bed.

  Groaning at her own ridiculousness, she swiveled on her butt and leaned across the mattress to grab her pajamas. He’d already seen her in a torn dress with a swollen ankle and a bloody knee. It didn’t get much worse than that.

  After a lot of unladylike grunting and contorting, she finally managed to get her dress unzipped and pushed down to her waist. She debated for several seconds on whether to keep the bra or not, but in the end, exhaustion and pain won out over propriety. After pulling on her T-shirt, she stopped to rest and catch her breath while she worked out the logistics of getting the bottoms on.

  “Okay, if I just…” Falling back on the mattress, she pushed the form-fitting dress down her torso, rolling and shimmying as she worked the material over her hips.

  “Ice pack and aspirin,” Rafe announced as he strolled through the doorway. “I’m guessing your first aid stuff is in the—” Coming to a stop in the middle of the room, he pressed his lips together and snorted. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m trying to get this damn dress off!” Cecily snapped. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  Rafe placed the pain reliever on the nightstand and tossed the bag of ice onto the mattress, his gaze straying to the rip in her dress. “I hope it wasn’t a favorite.”

  Cecily closed her eyes and flopped back on the bed as blood rushed to her cheeks. “It wouldn’t matter if it was. It’s ruined.”

  “Hey.”

  Blinking rapidly, she hoisted herself up on her elbows and glared. Christ, this was humiliating. “What?”

  “Shit happens, right?”

  “This is why I never leave my house.” A shiver slid down her spine at Rafe’s deep, masculine chuckle. “I’m glad I amuse you.”

  “They say laughter is the best medicine.” Straddling her thighs, he braced his knees on the side of the mattress and leaned forward. Then, he slid one muscular arm beneath her, right at the small of her back, and stopped. “Ready?”

  Warmth radiated from his huge frame, seeping into her skin to chase away the chill of the room. “Yeah, ready.”

  With little effort, he lifted her a few inches and dragged the dress down her thighs in one easy motion. Next, he grabbed her sleep shorts and knelt on the floor to help her into them. He didn’t stare inappropriately. He didn’t comment on the color of her panties or the length of her legs. If anything, he conducted himself a little too clinically.

  “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Taking her hand, he pulled her into a sitting position and pursed his lips. “Can you stand?”

  With a little support and some awkward maneuvering, he managed to get her on her feet. Offering her a hand to keep her steady, he used the other to pull the ivory comforter and striped sheets back on the bed.

  “In you go.”

  He worked in silence, helping her into bed and making sure she was comfortable before stacking a couple of pillows to prop up her foot. Once he had the ice pack in place, he shook out a couple of pain relievers from the bottle and handed them to her, along w
ith the bottle of water he’d brought from the kitchen.

  Cecily couldn’t remember anyone ever taking such good care of her. “Thank you. I know I keep saying it, but really…I don’t know what I would have done without you tonight.”

  For most of her life, it had fallen to her to take care of people—her sister, her friends, her sick father, and her drunk mother. Asking for help didn’t come naturally, and accepting unsolicited support wasn’t any easier. With Rafe, she didn’t feel helpless or indebted. She wanted to repay his kindness, but not because he made her feel like she owed him.

  It was all very confusing.

  “You’re welcome, but it’s not a big deal. I’m sure you’d do the same.”

  No, she probably wouldn’t.

  If she had passed a stranger on the sidewalk in the middle of the night, she’d have kept right on walking. She wouldn’t have stopped to inquire about their wellbeing or offer assistance.

  “I think you give me too much credit.”

  “And I think you don’t give yourself enough.” Rafe clapped his hands, then rubbed them together with an arched brow. “Are you going to tell me where the bandages are, or should I just start digging through your cabinets until I find them?”

  “I’m not sure, actually.” There was a vague recollection of purchasing a first aid kit about a year ago floating around in her memories. “Ask Melissa.”

  “That’s going to be difficult considering she left about ten minutes ago.”

  “What?” Jerking upright, Cecily dislodged her foot from its perch and cursed when stabbing pains shot through her ankle and up her calf. “I’m going to murder her.”

  “Easy, killer. You do realize she’s a grown woman, right? I bet she can tie her shoes all by herself and everything.”

  “Yes, and when she starts acting like an adult, I’ll treat her like one.” She didn’t even know why she tried anymore. “Where’s my phone?”

  “I’m not going to talk you out of this, am I?”

  “I need my phone.” Pushing into a more comfortable position, Cecily fumbled around on the nightstand. “Did she say where she was going?”