Page 17 of Two Risks I'd Never Take Again

“Just tell me about it.”

His hand continued to move up and down on my back. “It’s a house at the northwest edge of town. There is a kitchen if you want to cook. But I’m not saying you have to. We can order out all week if you prefer. And there’s a hot tub.”

“Okay. Let me know what I owe you for my half. I need to check the soup.” I stopped when I reached the doorway. “Want to eat in here or in the living room?”

“This week is on me. All of it.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I’ll go out to the living room. Did you get my clothes?”

“Yes. Sorry. They are in the truck. I brought in the groceries and forgot the bag. I gave you your medicine, right?”

He nodded. “Get the bag after we eat. If you can stand looking at my chest a little longer.”

“I’ll live.” I walked back to the bed and helped him up. “Maybe.”

He draped an arm around my shoulders, and I pretended that it was because he wanted help down the hall. “If I’d known all it would take to spend a little time with you was to get beaten to a pulp, I might’ve tried it sooner.”

“Funny.” I looked up at him and immediately fixed my gaze in front of me. Now that the swelling on his face was going down and his blue eyes were visible, looking him in the eye was more dangerous. Way more dangerous.

Not only had I sworn never to risk picking up another stranger, but I’d also promised my heart I’d never risk it again. Being jilted right before my wedding had been horrible, and I’d sworn I’d never risk falling in love again. Not dating made it easy to keep that promise to myself. This helpless hunk was the first one who’d even made me question that promise.

I carriedGarrett’s duffle bag down the hall, nervous at the thought of changing the man’s clothes. Without looking at him, I set the bag on the bed and pulled out a pair of sweatpants, boxer briefs, and some socks. “I grabbed t-shirts and a few that button up the front because I wasn’t sure how your shoulder was feeling.”

“The t-shirt would be more comfortable, but I’ll need help getting it on.”

Nodding, I chose a super soft shirt. “All right. So...” I inhaled. “First you have to take those clothes off.”

“This is a bit awkward, but if you’ll unbutton my pants, I can handle the rest.” He held up his hands, showing that he’d worked his thumb loose from the bandage. “The doctor said the bandages could come off tonight anyway.”

“He said they needed to be changed tonight. Not exactly the same thing.” Standing in front of Garrett, I unfastened the button, then squeezed my eyes closed as I lowered the zipper. “All good?”

“Thanks.”

With my eyes still closed, I spun around. “I’m not looking.”

Change rattled in a pocket as his jeans hit the floor, and I slapped a hand over my eyes, knowing what was coming off next.

The mattress shifted, and Garrett’s breathing sped up.

I inched away from the bed.

A loud thunk sounded behind me, and Garrett grunted.

If he’d broken something else, this was going to be way more complicated.

“Do you—”

“Don’t turn around. I’m okay.” His voice was strained, and he didn’t sound all that okay.

As one minute stretched into two, he shifted and grunted, but I kept my eyes covered. After what seemed like forever, he stilled. “I’m really sorry. I tried to get dressed, but I’m going to need help with the pants. My boxer briefs are on. I managed that.”

“Sure. Yeah.” This was no big deal. Just because I’d never seen a man in his underwear—not true. I’d seen one, but I’d blocked out that memory. But this wasn’t weird. Not at all. I’d seen guys in swimsuits. It was almost the same thing. Shoot. Boxer briefs covered more than some swimsuits. I forced a smile as I turned around.

Garrett was on the floor, a sheepish look on his face. “Help. I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up.”

I tried not to look directly at him, but that lasted all of a millisecond. “Garrett, your legs. They are covered in bruises.”

“I’m one big bruise right now. And it feels like it.”

If I focused too long on his injuries, I’d start crying, and that would be embarrassing since I wasn’t the one hurt. “Do you want pants first, or should we get you off the floor before we deal with the pants?”

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