Page 20 of Axe-ing for Trouble
I kept my chin tucked and focused on my breathing while he washed the iodine off the areas on my knees that Willa had treated.
Like a true gentleman, he remained focused on the task at hand, keeping his gaze where it should be, and treating my skin as if it were precious to him. When the washcloth swept over the purple bruise on my thigh, my knees buckled and the air whooshed out of my lungs.
He grasped my other thigh, looking up on instinct, and I put my good hand on his shoulder to steady myself.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he said, his eyes shifting back to the floor.
He made his way up over my hip to my stomach and moved very gently over my ribs.
As he worked there, I focused on the suds pooling at the bottom of the shower and keeping steady. It had been difficult to breathe before, but now, even the shallowest of breaths was excruciating. My heart pounded in my ears as he made his way up, avoiding my breasts and moving to my good arm.
He stood and carefully grasped my hand, scrubbing the dirt from my nails. My muscles locked up at his proximity. Suddenly, all I could sense was his body and the steam rising around us. The pain in my shoulder dulled, but the rest of me throbbed. Every nerve ending lit up, sensing each fiber of that washcloth.
I closed my eyes as he stepped closer and rinsed off my collarbone.
“You okay?”
The words rumbled through me. His chest was so damn close to mine.
My body desperately wanted to close the gap between us, to wrap my good arm around his waist. No one had ever cared for me like this. No man had ever touched me as if I was delicate, precious.
While this encounter had started as a nightmare, I wasn’t sure I wanted it to end.
Eventually, though, he reached around me, careful not to let his body touch mine, and turned off the water.
“Gimme one sec.”
He hopped out and closed the door behind him, trapping the steam inside with me. With one of the fluffy white towels he’d hung up, he dried himself off. The glass door was foggy, but before he secured the terry cloth around his waist, I was pretty sure I saw a large bulge in the front of those boxer briefs.
I was so entranced by the idea that when he pulled the door open, I startled.
Though he’d definitely noticed, he didn’t mention it as he wrapped the second towel around my shoulders and guided me out.
“Stand right there.” He slid his glasses on and raked a hand through his hair, then stepped in close again.
Just as he’d washed me, he carefully dried me off. Once again, when he brushed the towel over the stubble on my legs, mortification swamped me.
Unbothered by any of it, he stepped back and tore into the package of cotton bikini briefs, then held out a blue pair.
I steadied myself on his shoulder as I stepped into them, my whole body heating, and not in a good way.
The stretchy cotton bra clasped in the front. I was sure I had Willa to thank for that detail. He took it off its little plastic hanger, then threaded my bad arm through it. After he’d guided it back to my chest, his touch featherlight, he walked around me, trailing his fingers across my back. Once my good arm had also been guided through and he was working the clasp between my breasts, his focus intent on my chest, my feelings toward Willa and her thoughtfulness soured a little.
I let out a little squeak as the clasp snapped, more from embarrassment and his proximity than anything else.
His head snapped up. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ignore the sensation of the pads of his fingers on my ribs.
“Do you want me to brush your hair?” Without waiting for a response, he guided me to sit on the toilet and draped a dry towel over my shoulders. Gingerly, he separated my hair into sections and worked a wide-tooth comb through it. He secured it with a hair tie, creating a stubby ponytail at my nape.
“Time to put the sling back on. You ready?”
With a nod, I stood. From this angle, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I was in nothing but my underwear, and his chest was bare. Eyes closed, I forced the image from my mind.
After helping me into my pajamas, he slid the sling on, adjusting it like Willa had shown us and fastening the Velcro.
“That feel right?”
