Page 75 of Tempting Irish

Shit.

I reach for the nearest branch, but I miss it by a hair, andslip.

Bark bites into my skin as I flail my arms, trying to regain balance, which I finally do three branches below where Istarted.

Owen curses wildly, fear mixed with anger vibrating in hiswords.

I wince, more from the lecture I know I’m going to get than from thepain.

Fingers dig into my arms, steadying me. “I toldye-”

“You scared me.” I mutter accusingly, as I let him help me down the lastbranch.

“Ye’re bleeding.” His nostrils flare and he shakes hishead.

“I’m fine.” I wince, glancing down at the scrapes on my arms and legs. “If you hadn’t crept up on me likethat...”

“Ye shouldn’t have been up in the damntree.”

“I’ve never fallen before. You startledme.”

His jaw twitches, his hands roaming across my skin as he takes in the damage. “So, it’s myfault?”

Yes. Because only when I’m around you do I lose mybalance.

“No.”

He straightens and drags his fingers through his hair. “Come on. Let’s get those cleanedup.”

“I said I’mfine.”

“Ye say that a lot, when ye clearly aren’t.” He picks up my phone and hands it to me, a reminder of why I was so frazzled in the firstplace.

He’d asked me if Frank was going to be trouble. Now, I know with certainty that he willbe.

Let Owen help you, my brain demands. But my heart warns me not to get him involved. For his sake. For Emer and Agnus. I don’t want to bring them into thismess.

Don’t want them to know how much of a mess I reallyam.

If I tell Owen, I know he’ll pull his whole white-knight bit. Because that’s what he does. Who he is. And I don’t need anyone fighting my battles forme.

Except that this time, I reallydo.

We walk to the house, his disapproving silence louder than if he were screaming atme.

“Sit,” he orders when we’re in thekitchen.

I don’t have the strength to argue, so I pull out a stool and wait for him to return with a washcloth and antisepticspray.

Lips pulled tight, he cleans the small scrapes with a gentle patience I wouldn’t have thought him possibleof.

He’d be a goodfather.

I groan as the thought pops into myhead.

“Does that hurt?” His brows draw down severely, concern etched tight on his handsomefeatures.

“No.” I place a hand on his cheek, soaking him in. The only thing that hurts is my heart when I think aboutleaving.

---