Ready to Fall (26 page)

“You want me to undress you?”

“I do.” She blushed.

“And this embarrasses you?” I teased. I couldn’t help myself. The panic she hurt herself and the run up the stairs had dissolved my hard-on to half mast. If I didn’t keep things light, my dirty thoughts would be on full display again.

She nodded and sighed.

“Didn’t we go over this in the hospital? Seen you naked already. Know where your moles are. Memorized them. Could draw you a map if you want.” I gestured for her to stand up. “Let’s get you in the shower before the hot water runs out.”

“You memorized my moles?” she asked, standing in front of me.

“I’ll draw a map while you’re in the shower to prove it.” I smiled down at her. “Pants first.”

I tucked my thumbs into the waist of her pants. I squatted down and dragged my hands down her legs, removing her pants and underwear both. Her T-shirt came off next. So easily it made me suspicious if she needed my help or not.

“You couldn’t take off your T-shirt?” I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders and gazed down at her feet.

I squinted at her face. Hmmm. “Okay, this stretchy bra thing is going to be more difficult.” I pushed the fabric up from her waist and she raised her arms over her head. “Ready to be naked?”

“Gah, just do it,” she huffed.

I smiled, but she didn’t look at me. To get her attention, I traced a circle around a spot on her thigh near her hip. “That’s one. You have another one on your ribs under your right boob.” I tugged the fabric further up her body and traced my finger over the newly exposed mole. “Right there.”

Her breath hitched.

One more pull and the bra was over her head, blinding her, but exposing all of her chest to me.

“This one’s my favorite.” I pushed the boundaries when I brushed the back of one knuckle over the freckle to the left of her nipple.

She held her breath.

“Breathe, Diane,” I whispered, then released her from the confines of the fabric. The bra landed on the rug.

Her cast and good arm covered her chest and she gaped at me. “You’re not playing fair.”

“Sorry.” I grinned at her. “Now into the shower with you.” I held out my arm for her to grasp when she climbed into the claw-foot tub. I closed the curtain behind her and waited.

“Um?”

“Yes?”

“Can you … do you mind …”

“What? Ask. I’ll do anything.”

“It’s … I can’t.” I could hear the tears in her voice.

Opening the shower curtain, I peered at her. She looked as I had imagined downstairs, but vulnerable.

“What do you need?”

“I need you. I can’t do anything with this.” She waved the bagged arm around. Her lip trembled.

“Okay, don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I figure we have two options. One, I can get in the shower with you.”

Her eyes widened.

“I’ll wear my boxers. Promise.”

Blinking, she asked, “Second option?”

“We turn this shower into a bath and I wash your hair for you.”

“You’d do that?”

“For you? Anything.”

“I choose bath.”

“Done.” I reached for the stopper and switched the water to the faucet. “Do you want to stay in there while it fills?”

“Yes, I’ll be cold if I get out now.”

I helped her sit down in the tub and grabbed a washcloth before taking a seat on the closed toilet. “Soap please.”

She squirted some bath wash on the cloth and I dunked it in the hot water. I moved her hair over her shoulder and swept the warm, soapy washcloth over her back, rubbing in circles as I descended.

She rested her head on her arms, which were curled around her knees and moaned.

The sound headed straight to my cock. I shifted and softly moaned. I didn’t think she heard me.

“Did you moan?” She opened her eyes and stared at me.

I nodded. Guilty.

“Are you having perverted thoughts about me while you play nurse?”

“Definitely.” No use in denying it.

“Are you hard?”

My hand stilled on her back.

“Maybe.”

She turned her head forward and giggled.

“Hey, you moaned too.”

“I did not.”

“You did. Don’t deny it.”

“It was more of a sigh.”

“Sigh. Moan. Let’s agree to disagree.” I smiled as I rinsed the cloth and wiped her back. “Lean back.”

She rested her head on the edge of the tub and I pulled her hair back. The arm with a cast sat on the edge, while her right arm draped across her breasts.

“How am I going to clean your front if you are covered up?”

“I can do it.” She raised her hand to her shoulder and reached for the washcloth.

I moved it out of reach. “No fun in that. Let me make you feel good.”

“John—”

“I’m not talking about sex. Let me do this for you.”

“I’m not getting rid of you, am I?” Her head lolled to the left and she observed me.

“Nope. Not until you ask me to leave.” I smiled.

She sighed. “Okay.” Her arm created a small splash when it sank under the water by her side.

I soaped up again and gently swept my cloth covered hand down her torso and over her shoulders. Her eyes stayed closed and a small smile formed on her lips. She looked peaceful and incredibly beautiful.

I successfully washed and conditioned her hair without mauling her despite the pain of my erection pressing into my jeans. However, this wasn’t about me. Not even a little bit.

Diane stood on the mat while I dried her off. Occasionally, I added something new to my map of her body. I didn’t tell her my new favorite freckle was located between the dimples above her ass. I’d remind her of that one with my tongue. It was good to have goals.

M
Y
AUNT
ARRIVED
in the evening with enough food to feed the entire beach. Casseroles were put into the freezer, a crockpot full of chili heated on the counter, and the fridge was stocked with … well, everything. A chocolate sheet cake rested on the island, a small corner of frosting missing and my hand stung from where Helen swatted me with the back of her wooden spoon.

Diane burst into tears when she saw everything Helen brought. She cried harder when my aunt hugged her and told her it would be okay.

“You’re never alone when you live here,” Helen reminded her.

I stood at the counter and watched them hug and talk over on the couch. The frosting tempted me, but I rubbed my hand and bided my time. All the female emotions made me uncomfortable. I excused myself to run over to my house for a bit.

When I returned with what I needed to spend the night, Helen excused herself with a knowing look at my arms full of clothes. She double-checked Diane had her number and then kissed my cheek on her way out the door.

“What’s all that stuff?” Diane asked, blowing her nose again from all the crying.

“Staying the night. In case you need anything.”

“You don’t—”

I interrupted her, “I know I don’t have to, but I’m staying.”

“Right. Staying until I ask you to leave.”

“Glad you understand finally. I’ll sleep in the other guest room. I’d sleep on the sectional down here if it would make you more comfortable.”

“Thank you. You didn’t have to ask your aunt for all that food.”

“I didn’t. I called her this morning and told her what happened. That’s all her doing.”

“Wow. She doesn’t even know me.”

“She knows you’re important to me, which makes you important to her. It’s how things work around here.”

“Right. The island way of life.”

“We take care of our own.”

“And I fall into that?”

“You do now.”

“I’m overwhelmed. I mean, I moved here not knowing anyone to be independent and make it on my own.” She shook her head and tears welled up again in her eyes. “Instead, I’m a charity case.”

I walked over and draped my arm around her shoulder. “You are independent and strong, not a charity case.”

“I can’t even bathe myself.”

“You probably could. Not very well, and would probably make a mess, but you could.”

“Then why did I need your help in the shower?”

“Obviously you wanted me to see you naked again. I know your wicked ways.” I hugged her closer and kissed the top of her head.

“You’re making it difficult to stay mad at you.”

“Then don’t. Or do. But if you kick me out, I’m taking the cake with me. My aunt must like you to make her chocolate sheet cake.”

“No way are you taking my cake!” She turned and pushed my chest with her good hand. “And don’t think I didn’t see you steal frosting.”

I absentmindedly rubbed my hand. “If you didn’t see it, you at least would have heard the thwack of the spoon on my flesh.”

She laughed and took my hand, massaging the back with her thumb. “She’s fast with a spoon. I was impressed with her reflexes.”

“Don’t underestimate the woman. She’s put up with me and my cousins for years. Heathens, all of us.”

“You’re not so bad.”

I quirked my eyebrow.

“Don’t give me that look.” She held my hand still and interlaced our fingers.

I gazed down at our joined hands.

A small gesture, but it was a start.

We ate chocolate cake for dinner sitting on the couch. It felt rebellious and silly Diane said. A perfect reminder her life was her own, to be lived by whatever rules she wanted.

I slept in a twin bed down the hall from her room that night and the next, but she kicked me out on Sunday evening, saying I had to work and she had to figure out how to be a one-armed wonder.

The big talk didn’t take place. Part of me hoped it never would, but I knew we’d be better off if it did.

A week after the accident, she invited me over for dinner of taco casserole—one of my favorite dishes, but she didn’t know that.

She greeted me at the door, freshly showered and dressed in a blue button down and jeans. The bruise on her face had faded into a pale, greenish yellow.

“Impressive,” I said, gesturing to her clothes.

“I know. I’m thinking world domination is next on my to-do list.”

“You could probably do it. Will you be an evil overlord or a kind-hearted despot?”

Her brows pulled together while she gave her options serious consideration. “I’m thinking despot, but one who wears a tiara.” She cracked herself up over the image. “Come on in.”

I laughed at her laughing at her own joke. “Someone’s feeling better.” I pointed at her face. “That’s a lovely shade of green on you.”

She gently touched her bruise. “It’s almost gone.”

When she moved her hand, I traced the line with a light touch. “I’ve said it before, it makes you look like a kick-ass ninja. I like it.”

“Thank you.”

“For what? For liking your bruise.”

“For always making me feel beautiful. And desired.”

“I’m that obvious?”

“It’s a good thing.” She sashayed into the house ahead of me. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” I promised. Somewhere between the shock of the accident and finding out she’d be okay, a shift occurred inside me. Despite the doctor’s assurance, this felt like a second chance with her. Life didn’t give you many of those and I wasn’t going to waste it.

The house smelled of taco casserole. “My mom used to make this all the time when I was a kid.”

“I’ve never had it before.”

“I’ve got to admit when Helen made it for you, I was jealous.”

“Maybe she knew I’d share it with you. There’s no way I could eat all her food by myself in a month.”

I smiled thinking of my aunt’s meddling.

We talked about general stuff while we ate. Weather felt safe. The rain had stopped and spring bulbs broke up the continuous green of the island. Mid-May and Memorial Day lurked on the horizon and with it, June. June meant the return of Maggie. Uncertainty pushed me to ask what I’d avoided for the past months.

“Speaking of warmer weather …” I cleared my throat. “Maggie said she’d be returning first of June.”

“That’s the plan.” Her answer sounded deliberately vague.

“Right. And what does that mean for you?”

She gave me a knowing smile.

“What?” I asked. Lost.

“You finally asked me what happens next.”