by Dale Mayer
He leaned over, kissed her cheek and said, “Sentry is fine. So are the others. How are you?”
“I’ll be looking for a houseboy to keep me off my feet for the next week or two,” she said with a chuckle and winced. “Don’t think I’ll be doing any walking, much less running, anytime soon.”
“How’s the shoulder?”
“They checked it and said it was healing,” she said. “But I’m not sure the doctor wants to see me ever again.”
Just then the curtain was pulled back, and the doctor stepped into the room. “I’d love to see you again but without being shot or kidnapped, okay?” He checked her feet. “You can go home, but you can’t be alone. You’re not allowed to stand on these feet at all.”
She looked at him. “I have to go to the bathroom on my own.”
“No, you don’t,” he said. “We are talking a wheelchair and lots of padding around these feet. You’ll have to shift and shuffle your butt from one to the other. But no walking. You can stand for a short time, but you’ll find you don’t want to stand at all. If you have no one, we will see about home care visits.”
She sank back into the bed. “You know I live alone, right?”
“Not for the next week or two you don’t,” the doctor said. “I’ll write a prescription for the pain meds.” He disappeared through the curtain.
She groaned. “I wonder if I can get one of my girlfriends to move in.”
“Not an issue,” Ethan said. “I’m not a girlfriend, and hardly a houseboy, but maybe you’ll classify me as a boyfriend. I’m moving in and looking after you.”
She propped herself up on her good elbow. “You don’t have to do this because you feel guilty, you know?”
“How about I do this because I want to?” he said, leaning across and kissing her on the tip of her nose. “And I do feel guilty. I was supposed to look after you. And, well, I was dealing with one intruder, while the second guy came in and stole you away. Of course I feel guilty.”
She frowned.
He lifted a finger, placing it against her lips. “I’m not arguing with you about it. Bottom line is, you need care, and I can give you care.”
“I really don’t want to think about you carrying me to the bathroom,” she announced in dismay.
“You may not have a choice,” he said. “Would you rather it be a stranger?”
She wrinkled up her face and shook her head.
“Good, then no arguments. I’ll take care of the paperwork. Then we’ll get you moved back home again.”
“What about the dogs?”
He turned to look at her. “I was thinking about that. How do you feel about the five of us moving in?”
She laughed. “You know what the neighbors will say?”
“No, I don’t know what they’ll say, and I don’t care what they’ll say.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Do you?”
She thought about it for a moment and shook her head. “No, I don’t. But this isn’t an invitation to come into my bed. You know that, right?”
“That invitation has been there right from the beginning, whether you’re aware of it or not,” he said, leaving her gasping in surprise. “And, when you’re feeling better, I’ll take you up on it, though not for the next few days. Right now you need care, and I’m the one who’ll be there, ready to give you that care.” He turned and walked out. He had to because he was laughing so hard.
He stopped, pushed aside the curtain and saw her struggling to sit up. He leaned in, placed a gentle hand on either side of her head and kissed her. When he tried to pull back, he found he couldn’t. Instead he pulled her closer into his arms and deepened the kiss, letting her know with absolutely no doubt the direction they were headed. When he finally lifted his head and looked down at her face, he said, “See? Invitation all the way.”
He dropped a kiss on her nose, turned and walked out.
Chapter 15
After five days at home, she was angrier, more frustrated and pissed off than she could imagine. Ethan wouldn’t leave her alone. He’d disappear for five minutes, and he’d be back before she had a chance to move. Like now. She’d asked him for a glass of water, so she could go to the bathroom—alone—but he was already standing in front of her, holding her water. She sat on the edge of her bed and glared at him.
He shook his head, crossed his arms over his chest and said, “You can try standing tomorrow. That’s what the doctor said.” And with that he spun on his heels and left.
“He didn’t say I couldn’t try earlier,” she cried out.
“Yes, he did. He said to stay off your feet.”
“That means stay off my feet most of the time,” she said in exasperation. “Nobody in their right mind would expect me to stay off my feet all the time.”
He poked his head around the corner of the doorway. “Absolutely not. The minute you put more pressure on those feet, you’ll damage the blood vessels, and you’ll slow the healing process. Now get your butt back down and get your feet up.”
She flung her head back on the bed and put her feet back up on the stack of pillows he had placed there for her. It was really humiliating. The only way she managed to get any privacy was by crawling across the floor, getting into the bathroom on her own, using the bathtub for support in order to get to the toilet. She hadn’t had a bath or shower in five days, five days, and she was dying for one. He had offered but also said he’d carry her there and help her get stripped down. She wasn’t having anything to do with that.
But, if she made it to the bathroom, maybe she could make it into the bathtub on her own. Because one thing she did need was a damn good wash. In order to make that happen and to not get in deep trouble, she had to assure herself and him that she could do it without her feet touching the floor.
With a grin, she rolled over to lie on her belly and slid off the edge of the bed to land on her knees. She may have landed a little too heavily because instantly he was back inside her bedroom, checking up on her. She glared at him from her hands-and-knees position and said, “I’ll have a bath whether you like it or not.” She crawled over to the bathroom, her feet up in the air.
“You could at least ask me to run the water for you,” he said, stepping ahead of her. “You don’t have to be so stubborn all the time.”
He walked into the bathroom, and the dogs followed. At the moment, they had Bella and Sally with them. Plus her two dogs. She was overwhelmed in K9s who all thought it was a great game having her at their level. She laughed and spent a few moments cuddling each one as she heard the water pouring in the bathtub.
She didn’t know why she was being so feisty, but it was just impossible to be around him. She didn’t even know what the issue was, but she hated feeling like an invalid. And she hated being catered to. He did it with such a happy-go-lucky smiling expression that she wanted to hit him half the time.
When he came back out, she said, “You can’t be so nice all the time.”
At that comment he squatted in front of her. “Why? You want me to be mean and nasty?”
She shrugged irritably. “You’re pissing me off.”
“I noticed,” he said with a smirk.
She glared at him.
“There’s an easy answer to it.”
She frowned. “What’s that?” she asked suspiciously.
“You’re not ready for it yet.”
And that did it again. She crawled past, ignoring him. She hadn’t really been inviting him to share her bed. Well, maybe she had been, but she would put it down to the pain and the medications. He was too irritating for her to want to spend any more time with.
But inside she knew she was lying to herself. She just didn’t want to feel incapable of living the life she wanted to live. It was a temporary situation, and she should stop acting like a spoiled brat and start feeling grateful. It was one thing to know that, but it was another thing to do it.
She maneuvered her way into the bathroom, shooing the dogs out as she tried to work her
way past them. She shut the door, turned around and locked it. Feeling immeasurably happier, she twisted around so she sat on the floor and quickly shimmied out of her pajama bottoms. Carefully she pulled the socks off her feet, wincing at the tenderness of them, and stripped off the rest of her clothing.
Ethan knocked on the door and said, “You’ve got an hour. That’s it.”
“And then what?” she called out.
“I’m coming in to help because I’ll assume you can’t get out on your own,” he said with a light warning.
She growled and then laughed because it was a fair time frame. It took a little more effort to maneuver herself up to rest on the bathtub edge so she could carefully maneuver herself over and into the water. Awkwardly she splashed down on her butt, her feet hanging off the side of the tub, water coming up and over the sides of the bathtub to the floor on the other side.
It felt so damn good to get into the water, she lay here with her feet dangling for a long moment, just letting her head sink into the gently rocking water.
After a few minutes she sat up and slowly lowered her feet into the water. She knew this would be the real test. Her feet had been cleaned and were definitely healing, but they were still sore and tender. She moaned in delight when they were finally submerged. She should have done this way earlier.
She reached for the shampoo and proceeded to scrub her scalp and then, with soap, scrubbed the rest of her. She tried to examine the soles of her feet, but it was hard to see in this lighting. They looked so much better. There were scabs and definitely tight pink tissue, signs of healing, but they were still puffy.
She knew that standing on them would hurt like crazy. Another couple days and they should be better. The doctor told her it would take about a week, and then she needed to walk with multiple socks on in order to give her feet the cushion they would need. And she’d also find it hard to stay on them for very long. That was all good. She was totally okay to follow those doctor’s orders. So why was she being so bitchy?
Sure, being an invalid was part of it, but it was also having Ethan around all the time. They were dancing around in this newbie relationship of theirs, but she was in no position to move it forward. She wasn’t even sure how to move it forward.
He’d taken on the role of a comfortable brother, almost. And that was very unsexy, going against where she thought they were heading. He was a really good man, she admitted. Too good a man maybe, she thought with a laugh.
But that wasn’t true. He never lost his temper, but she could see the darkness in him. The pain. He’d been through some tough times. When he was asleep, she heard him cry out. She never asked him about PTSD, but she was sure that kept him up in the night. He had his secrets, and she had hers, although hers were pretty minor. They were getting to know each other. And she’d only found more to like.
Still, he was doing everything he could to help her get through this, and she appreciated it.
By the time she was done, had the water drained and sat on the bathtub’s edge again, she wished she’d had a few more days of recovery time under her belt. She was wrapped up in a towel, but it would be hard to get back to the bed. There was no rush; she still had time before Ethan took over. She was sure he’d heard her get out anyway.
She pulled on pajamas again, and, now fully dressed, a towel wrapped around her head, she pulled another towel down and crawled on top of it back to the bed. It helped preserve her knees a bit.
Before she could get back in the bed, strong hands reached down, picked her up around the waist, and lifted her onto the bed. She let out a cry, not hearing him come up behind her. “You scared me,” she scolded.
“Well, if you’d let me know that you could use a hand, then you wouldn’t have been surprised,” he said, his exasperation coming through his voice.
She flipped around and sat down on the bed, looking up at him. “I’m sorry. I’m being difficult, and I don’t mean to be.”
His gaze warmed. He sat on the bed beside her and said, “Have you figured out why you are?”
She waved a hand off to the side. “I don’t like being an invalid. I don’t like being treated like a child or being in a position of needing so much help,” she said with a half smirk. “Particularly from you.”
His eyebrows shot up. “What’s wrong with me?”
She realized he’d taken it as an insult. She tried to get the words out correctly, but every time she tried to formulate her thoughts, she couldn’t say them. Finally she raised her hands in frustration and said, “I don’t want you to see me as helpless.”
He stared at her for a long moment, stroked her cheek and said, “What I see is a valiant, strong woman who survived a terrible ordeal. The ordeal was brought on by me. And I’m doing everything I can to help you get back on your feet.”
“I knew it,” she cried out. “You feel sorry for me. You feel guilty.”
“It’s because of me that you’re hurt. But, no, I don’t feel sorry for you. I’m saddened this happened. But obviously you’ll get better, and it’s not a permanent injury. So I’m just helping you where I can.” He stared at her for a long moment, then tapped the tip of her nose. “Is something else going on here?”
She snapped her lips closed and glared at him.
He nodded. “I’m not sure what’s going on. Yet I understand a lot of it,” he admitted, “because nobody likes to be treated or thought of as helpless. We all want to be independent.”
She sighed and held out her hand. He covered hers with his and squeezed her fingers gently. “What are we doing here?” she asked softly.
His gaze locked on hers, and he smiled a slow, gentle smile that made her heart weep with emotion. “What is it you want to see us do here?”
She shook her head. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re not answering a question with a question.”
He chuckled. “I’d like to get to know you better,” he said. “I’d like to see where this goes.”
“Are you planning on moving back to your own house?” she asked with a laugh. “Or are you planning on moving in here?”
He tilted his head to the side, his gaze twinkling. “Is the latter an option?”
She chuckled. “I hadn’t planned on a house guest. But it is a big house.”
“I have a place in town, as you know, but you have acres here for training exercises, plus the dog runs. But I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves.”
“How long do you think you need to be here looking after me?”
“You go back to the doctor in two days. If he says you can start walking around a little bit, then we’ll see how it goes. Plan on maybe four days, and then I’ll move back out again,” he promised.
She smiled. “That sounds fair. And thank you very much for looking after me.”
He shook his head. “Don’t say that. I’m happy to do this. You know that.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged him closer, turning a light kiss into a real kiss. When he straightened and pulled away, his gaze was searching, and she smiled up at him. “Why do you really think I’ve been snappy?”
He narrowed his gaze.
She nodded. “It wasn’t an invitation,” she said, referencing what he had said before, then admitted, “but in a way it was.”
He smiled, then kissed her on the tip of her nose. “I know.”
She pulled back slightly, changed the angle of their position and kissed him. “I guess we’re not quite ready for this stage,” she said, “but it would be nice if we were.”
His gaze darkened. When he gave her a kiss this time, it took her to the depths of a passion she hadn’t expected to see so fast. It left her gasping and surprised, wanting so much more.
When he straightened, she collapsed on the bed, just staring at him.
He grinned. “It depends on you,” he said. “I’ve already expressed my interest.”
“Oh, no you haven’t,” she said in astonishment. “At least not in
so many words.”
“I’m living in your house, looking after you,” he said. “How is that not telling you that I care about you?”
She frowned. “That’s just your guilt talking.”
He gently picked her up, twisted her so she sat in his lap, tilted her head back and kissed her again. When he lifted his head this time, he said, “Guilt?” And he lowered his head again.
When he finally lifted his head the next time, she had all but melted in his arms. “This is not guilt,” he whispered against her lips, his hand brushing her hair back once, then twice. “It’s concern. It’s caring. It’s wanting to make sure somebody I want to spend time with is doing okay. Yes, a smidgen of guilt is in there, but it’s more about wanting to spend time with you, making sure you are okay.”
She nodded with a smile and said, “But that’s not the same thing as wanting to take another step in a relationship. If we’re just friends, then let’s just stay friends.”
He chuckled. “Was that kiss like a kiss between friends?”
“I have no clue,” she said, confused herself at this point. She wished he’d just kiss her again and stop the talking.
As he went to put her back on the bed, she shook her head, slung her arm around his neck, grabbed hold and tugged him toward her. “My turn.”
This time she kissed him. She hadn’t realized how much she’d bottled up inside. This was what she wanted. It was what she’d wanted days ago, maybe longer. She didn’t normally accelerate relationships, but no doubt they had something they needed to work through. She didn’t know that bed was the best way to do it, but it sure would take some of the stress off. And what she wanted was a whole lot more than stress relief. She wanted to know they had something here they could build on …
He pulled back and looked at her. “It’s too soon,” he said, his voice thick.
“Why? What do my feet have to do with this?”
“Your shoulder …”
She glanced at her shoulder. “Well, your kisses are so distracting, I didn’t even notice,” she admitted. “I don’t think it will be a problem.”