Page 9 of Axe-ing for Trouble
I was assessing the dark furniture when Ripley padded into the room, followed by her owner.
I winced.
Jude.
He wore a pair of gray sweatpants and a faded T-shirt. His dark hair stood up in every direction, sleep-mussed, and his glasses were askew. I was practically immobile, feeling like I’d been run over by a bus, and the man strolled in wearing fucking sweatpants. Could I not catch a break?
“She is awake. Good girl.” He patted the dog’s head as he strode to my bedside.
“What am I doing here?” I asked, taking the glass of water he offered me.
“Resting, as the doctor ordered.”
“I said I’d sleep on the couch.”
“And I said you had to take the bed.” His tone was firm, but the corner of his lip quirked.
“But Iwassleeping on the couch.” I remembered that part clearly. He’d been adamant that I sleep in his bed, his tone almost condescending. It rankled me, making it easy to draw a line in the sand. I was an unwanted guest. I would not put him out any more than I had to.
With a hum, he set a bottle of over-the-counter painkillers on the nightstand. “Once you were asleep, I carried you in here.”
My heart stuttered. “I don’t remember waking up. But I would have had to with the way my shoulder hurts.”
He shrugged. “I was careful and you were exhausted.” He grasped the blanket but didn’t move to pull it back. “Can you sit up?” he asked, genuine concern in his eyes. “I’ll make breakfast. Willa said you need to eat.”
With his hand on my upper back, he helped me sit up. For a big, rugged guy, he was so gentle.
The dog rested her head on the edge of the bed at his side, her dark eyes surveying me.
Unable to resist the temptation, I scratched her ears.
“Ripley likes you.” He worked around me, arranging the pillows to support my back more effectively. “She doesn’t like most people.”
“I need to go,” I said, shifting so I could swing my legs over the side of the mattress.
“No.” He leaned closer, and I was hit with a whiff of toothpaste mixed with a scent that was distinctly male. “Willa will be here soon. Rest for now. Your body needs it.”
The dog leaned closer, nuzzling my hand. Her affection settled me. I’d always wanted a dog. It was another promise I’d made myself many times. Maybe when this was all over, I’d get one. If it ever ended. Most days, I wasn’t sure it would. Though after yesterday, it was clear it had to, and it would be in one of two ways. I’d either ride off into the sunset with a dog, or I’d be six feet under.
Jude hadn’t moved from my side. Though he’d been a little bossy, he was as handsome and caring as I remembered. The burly lumberjack who’d taken me home, rocked my world, and then made me chocolate chip pancakes at three a.m.
I hadn’t forgotten a single detail of the night we’d spent together. The weather, the moonlight, the way his strong, calloused hands felt on my body. Or the location of this little house in the middle of the forest.
“I shouldn’t have come here,” I murmured. “I promised myself I’d keep you out of this.”
“Out of what?” he asked, his gaze intent behind his dark-rimmed glasses. “I still have no idea what’s going on.”
“I need to go.” My first order of business was to head back to the woods. I wouldn’t rest until I found that damn phone. I’d worked too long and too hard to lose the evidence.
“Stop.” He stepped up closer so I couldn’t move around him without having to scoot down the mattress. In this much pain, and under his scrutiny, I didn’t dare attempt it.
“You’re safe here. No one knows where you are except my family. Take some time to recover.”
Embarrassingly, a big, fat tear rolled down my cheek.
“I’m sorry.” He eased onto the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb my shoulder. “You’re in shock. Please let your body recover. We can talk about all of this later.”
Overcome by another wave of tears, I slumped back. Pain shot through my arm, making me grimace. I’d been so close to finishing all of this. And now I’d lost the evidence. I was on the run and injured. All out of sorts in the presence of this large man and his equally giant dog.
