Page 25 of Two Risks I'd Never Take Again

I tapped on his door. “You decent?”

“Mostly.”

That one word helped me mentally prepare. I needed to rub cream into his bruises so they’d heal quickly, and since his bruises were all over his body, anything more than his boxer briefs would inhibit access to said bruises. So, I expected he was wearing only his underwear. And I was right.

He sat on the edge of the bed. “I waited to put clothes on because you said you had something you needed to do to my bruises.”

“You combed your hair.”

A nod preceded his smile. “Combing it was only mildly painful.”

“You didn’t like me touching your hair?” I picked up the tube of arnica cream and squirted a little into my hand.

“Didn’t say that. But I might’ve liked it too much.” He rolled his shoulders. “Where do you want me?”

His nervousness ramped up my feelings of awkwardness about rubbing cream all over him. And I couldn’t very well do it with my eyes closed. The whole point was to get it on the bruises.

“Let me lay out a towel, then we won’t accidentally get anything on the bed.” I grabbed one out of the bathroom and spread it out one handed.

He lay down on his back. “This okay for starters?”

“Perfect.” I touched one of the cuts on his lip. “This is healing nicely. Does it still hurt?”

“Not much.”

“That means yes, doesn’t it?” I gently rubbed cream on the bruised spots on his face. “What happened, Garrett? When I think of someone hitting you hard enough to cause this damage, I ache. It hurts me. Help me understand what happened.”

My fingers glided over his muscles. On his chest, there were only a couple of bruises. His abs had more.

Garrett eyed my hands as they moved down his body. “I can’t really tell you without explaining what I do, and that would make things complicated for you.”

“Seriously, Garrett? You aren’t a spy. Don’t give me the ‘If I told you, I’d have to kill you’ bit. Just tell me.”

He flexed. Either he was trying to impress me—spoiler, he already had—or he was ticklish. I ignored it and kept working.

“You were adamant about not knowing because it would make things awkward with Delaney. And she needs her best friend’s help to plan the wedding. I’m not going to be the reason you can’t talk to her or the reason her—” He snapped his head up off the pillow as I rubbed his thigh. “I almost said too much.”

I moved down to his lower legs. “Tell me what you do. Forget what I said before.” When I finished with the top of him, I tapped his hip. “Roll over.”

“I’m a private investigator.” He shifted and stretched out on his stomach.

I sucked in a deep breath and fanned myself.

“You okay?” He turned his head and looked up at me.

“Uh-huh.” I squeezed more cream into my hand. “Fine. Yeah.”

“Tessa, if you want to skip the rest—”

“Oh no. I’ll finish up really quick.” The private investigator bit made sense, but it still surprised me. “You’re kind of like a spy. That’s cool.” I took another deep breath before rubbing his back. This part of him had gotten the worst of the beating. “Your back is so bruised.” I trailed my finger over one of the worst spots.

Garrett stilled.

“I’m sorry for touching you like that. It’s just...” I wiped at a tear. “I’m almost done.” I rubbed cream on him, like I should have been doing instead of caressing his back.

“Looks bad, huh? Those are mostly from boots. I was curled up on the ground.” He reached out and patted my leg. “I didn’t mean for you to get upset.”

“I’m okay.” I finished up my task. “Did you investigate the wrong person? Not that you were tailing the wrong person. I meant... were you investigating someone who wasn’t a good person? That question sounds stupid out loud. Of course they weren’t a nice person if they did this to you.” I tapped his shoulder. “I’m done. Let me run and wash my hands.”

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