Page 49 of Cupcake of the Month
Josh held out an arm, not touching her.
Oy gevult. It would be easier with his support, and she didn’t need to prove anything.
She gripped the strong limb and leaned into him. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and effortlessly raised her from the floor and put her on one of the stools. “Thank you,” she gulped.
Josh scooted the ice closer to her and she lay her wrist on the bag. “Okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Or, rather, she would be, once the ice numbed it. Then she could slink off into the stables and get some aspirin.
Josh leaned forward so their faces were even. He searched her eyes and she filled her mind with guileless thoughts. He nodded, once, then kissed her forehead.
Once he turned away, she lay her head down on the island.She’d been injured before. Hard to play sports and not get bumped or bruised once in a while. But damn, her wrist hurt like a mother. She tried to bend it, but the shooting pain stopped her. Pretty sure it wasn’t broken, though. Probably just a bad sprain. She got up the courage to see.
Her wrist had puffed up and she was sure its color matched her embarrassed cheeks. When her skin reached the lovely shade of purple, she could accessorize tonight with her earrings.
“Where are you going?” Anthon demanded. “Breakfast isn’t done!”
Jordan raised her head in time to see Josh disappear though the swinging doors to the dining room. Two minutes later, he came back with Brandi in tow. “You and I,” he said to Jordan, “are going to the ER.”
“What? No. It’s fine. I’ll ice it and wrap it up.”
“Jordan, you’re obviously not okay. You’re going to the doctor.”
“Go, sweetie,” Brandi said. “I’ve got it covered in here. And Josh’s shift ends in half an hour anyway.” She flashed Anthon a bright smile infused with her special Brandi charm. “I bet you can teach me all sorts of things.”
He stood up straighter. “I’m an excellent teacher.”
“Do you need help walking?” Josh moved to her side.
“It’s my arm, not my foot,” she grumbled.
He held up his hands, then retrieved the keys to the van off a hook near the back door. She stumbled outside and into the van’s front seat, then closed her eyes when he leaned across her to fasten her seatbelt.
God, stroking her fingers through those curls would be so much more pleasant than her present situation. Inhaling his clean, fresh scent.
She settled into her seat, holding her wrist, while Josh drove.
“You know, I’m feeling better,” she said after a while, as the throbbing continued. “I’ve had worse than this playing ball.”
“I’m sure you have.” Josh’s voice was frustratingly even.
“So you can turn around.”
“I can. Not going to.”
She leaned back in the seat with a sigh of resignation.
Soon he pulled into the urgent care center and led her inside. The doctor diagnosed her with a sprain, and she had to wear a stupid brace for at least a couple of weeks. Jordan gobbled the extra-strength aspirin she offered, refusing the high-powered pain killers. She didn’t want to be drugged at the party that night. Getting dressed was going to be hard enough without moving her wrist. Being introduced as a new member of Mrs. McGraw’s staff while half-stoned from medication? Forget about it.
On the way back to Fountenoy Hall, the van was filled with a silence so thick it was hard for her to breathe. She could feel Josh glancing over at her on more than one occasion, his fingers tapping an uneven beat on the steering wheel.
The medicine seeped into her system and took the edge off the worst of her pain. She shifted in the seat and closed her eyes, giving a sigh of relief. Josh put his hand on her knee and gave a small squeeze before putting his hand back on the wheel.
Words built up in her chest, confessions and questions and demands, but she kept it all in and mentally replayed great endings to World Series games to keep from giving them a voice. Phillies, Blue Jays in 1993. The Yankees’ perfect game. Ending the Curse of the Bambino. Flying the W after seven games, ten innings, and 108 years.
Josh pulled onto the Hall grounds and stopped the van in front of the stables. She unlatched her seatbelt and opened the door as he turned off the ignition.
“Thanks,” she said, getting out.
