Page 51 of Opening Strain

“Jenna, listen to me. I’m a big story in this small, sleepy town during winter. If I were here in the summer, I’m sure I wouldn’t be a blip on their radar.”

Her grey eyes blink. “I froze out there.” She licks her lips. “I was surprised.”

Over my complaining leg, I reach over and brush her hair off her cheek. “Anyone would be shocked when a pack of wolves descends without warning, Sweetheart.”Sweetheart?I’ll unpack this term later.

“Yeah.”

“Please know this will blow over. I’ll speak with Luke about the best way to make them go away.”

She opens her mouth and a stream of air comes out. Shaky hands corral her hair into a ponytail, which doesn’t stay put. I place my finger on her bottom lip over the protests of my thigh. “They’ll go away. I promise.”

“Thank you. I trust you.”

I puff up at her words. When has any woman evertrusted me other than to give her an orgasm? “I won’t let you down.” I glance at the screen on the console. “Now, can you set up the GPS so we can get out of here?”

“I can do that.” She gathers herself and hits various buttons on the dash.

I return to sit properly, massaging my thigh. My head follows my progress rather than hers.

“There. All set.”

The disembodied GPS voice instructs me to return to the main road, so I make a U-turn and off we go. We make small talk on the way back to town, going through windy roads that challenge both my driving and physical abilities. When a deer leaps across the road, I come to a fast halt, which brings about another bout of pain that I hide from my physical therapist. She doesn’t need to deal with my issues after the ambush at the restaurant.

At long last, we stop in front of a traditional two-story house. In the summer, I bet it has a nice lawn and flowers. “Uhm, Jenna. I know the GPS says we have arrived, but this isn’t my rental.”

Her hand flies to her mouth. “Oh no. This ismyhouse.”

Chapter Seventeen

Silence stretches between us.

I want nothing more than to spend the evening with her. Hold her. Make her feel safe after the paps ruined her birthday. “Jenna,” I begin. “Do you want me to stay?”

She doesn’t answer for a long time. My stomach churns to the beat of my throbbing thigh. At least not driving has alleviated some of its anger.

Her finger points toward the garage. “You can park in the driveway.”

“You got it.” I put the car into drive and complete the task with only minor additional pain. Must be the buzz running through my body. I refuse to jump to conclusions about what staying at her home means, but I seem to be making progress on something I only recently realized I wanted.

When I shut off the car, she opens her door and springs out. I open my door but my exit is neither fast nor graceful. When I’m upright, little pants escape.

“Oh no.” She shakes her head. “Are you all right? No, of courseyou’re not. You shouldn’t have been driving. It taxes your groin muscle too much. What was I thinking?”

She continues rambling until I raise my hand. “Stop. We made it here without being followed. That’s a win.” Cutting into the dead end was a gifted choice. I take one step away from the car and wince.

Her hand comes around my waist. “It’s my fault you’re hurting. Come on, let’s get you into the house.”

The time from her driveway to her front door takes at least ten hours—really minutes, but who’s counting?—since I need to stop several times. When we’re finally inside, she shuts the door, turns on the lights, and hangs up her coat, all before I can do anything more than lean against the wall and catch my breath.

Jenna places her hands on my arms. “Bennett.”

I force my gaze to hers.

“It’s my turn to take care of you. Think you can walk to the kitchen?” She points to a room about a million miles away.

My head shakes. “No, I?—”

“I get it. How about you sit down right here?” She indicates the chair in the foyer. Only a couple of steps away.

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