Page 58 of Make Mine Sweet
“Not at all.”
I chuckle at that. “You keep in touch, at least?”
“More than I would like.” The glint in his eyes lets me know he’s only mostly joking.
“Okay. What about friends?”
His gaze returns to my arm. “I used to have a lot. It was easy to meet new people. Now…not so much.”
It’s no more than I’d already guessed, but hearing him say it is like a little thorn in my heart. He used to be so vibrant and outgoing. It’s hard to see how he’s walled everyone out of his life. Is it all because of his injury? Or something else?
“You haven’t connected with anybody in Sunshine?”
“One.” He tilts his head to the side. “One and a half.”
I probably grin too wide over him simply admitting he sees August and me as his friends, but the knowledge makes my heart swell like a rising soufflé. And not because of any deal I’m getting on this duplex. I don’t just want Ian to let me befriend him—I want to see him shine again.
“Maybe you could make more friends, too.”
He watches me like he’s sifting through my words, looking for hidden meaning. “Maybe.”
He lifts the now-bloody paper towel from my arm and examines my injury. “Looks better. I’ll bandage it up.”
It’s fascinating to watch him tend to my arm. This methodical side of him is all new to me. He applies an antiseptic cream with a cotton swab gently so it doesn’t aggravate the wound. Then he lays a wide bandage over it, smoothing the edges down to make it secure.
It’s comforting, letting him take care of me this way. I have so many responsibilities when it comes to August’s diabetes, it’s almost soothing to let someone else be in charge, if only of a simple scrape.
“You’re good at this.” My breathy voice reveals way more than I mean it to, but the sentiment’s true.
“It was part of my job.” He lowers my arm and gathers up all the trash. I point him in the direction of the garbage can, and he throws everything out, then closes up the first aid kit with a snap. When he returns to me, he slips right back into my space. “How does your arm feel now?”
“Better. Thank you.”
“You might want to take some ibuprofen for the pain.”
I smile over this new side of him.Paging Dr. Vaughn.“Did people get a lot of injuries on the climbs you took them on?”
He rests one hand on the kitchen counter behind me, leaning just a touch but not quite caging me in. “Sounds like you don’t think I was a very good guide.”
I poke him gently in the side. A bad call, really, when I already know just how firm his body is. “You know what I mean.”
“If I was lucky, I only had to deal with a scrape or two. Once in a while, I’d have someone develop altitude sickness or dehydration. Mostly, I took good care of my clients.”
I love the glimmer of pride in his voice. Even if I haven’t read all the articles about him Wren mentioned, it’s obvious he loved his job and was good at it.
“Well, I would trust you.”
His gaze rakes over my face again, lingering on my mouth. “Yeah?”
“I just wouldn’t trust myself.”
His eyes lock on mine, brimming with silent questions. I mean it in every way he thinks. I’m definitely not a mountaineer, but with him standingthis closeand smellingthis goodthat’s not at the top of my reasons for self-doubt.
I want to close this absurdly small distance between us and kiss him. I want to throw my arms around his neck and lose myself in the moment. But I haven’t done any of those things in so long—and the last time I experienced that with someone, I wished I hadn’t. I can’t just give in to the impulse.
My awkward laugh is like a wedge pushing me out of his orbit, and I take a step to the side. “I don’t think I’d last very long on a climb like that. My friend, Lila, only went on a week-long hike around here, and it sounded like more than I would be able to manage.”
“I think you’re more than capable, Tess.”
