Page 20 of Rough Daddy
Touch me. Please just touch me.
I slide off the counter onto my feet, thankful my legs hold me up. When I look up, he immediately steps back.
I wobble slightly and his hands twitch like he wants to steady me.
"Head rush," I explain, pressing my palm to my temple.
He spins on his heel, swinging open a cabinet, fighting with the cap on a little bottle. Then, with a curse, he braces it between his teeth, cracking the cap off.
“Fucking childproof.” He returns with two white pills. "Ibuprofen. You'll thank me tomorrow."
Swallowing them with more water, I study his face. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Don't you need..." I gesture vaguely to his mid-section where there are clear signs of distress behind the fabric to the left of his zipper.
Huge distress.
"I'm fine."
"Liar."
A ghost of a smile crosses his mouth. "Guest cabin's set up for you. Clean sheets, towels. I'll walk you over. You need rest and I need a shower."
“I need a shower, too,” I try, reaching for his chest, but he retreats, already moving toward the door when there’s a loud crash outside.
Freezing, I stare at him. "What was that?"
Beau tilts his head. Another crash, closer this time.
"Probably just a bear. I fucking forgot to clean up the stone oven after I cooked." He grimaces. “You’ve got me distracted, baby.”
"Justa bear?" My voice shoots up an octave. "Just a BEAR?"
Turning back to me, he must see how wide my eyes have gone, the way I'm pressed against the counter, because his expression softens. "More scared of you than you are of them."
"I seriously doubt that." Another crash, and my whole-body jolts. I take an involuntary step toward him, drawn to his steadiness. "How do you...? How do you live here withthatgoing on?"
He shrugs, and I want to go skinny dipping in those pale blue eyes of his.
"Where do you live?" he asks, and I fight off the urge to climb onto his back like a little kid, putting him between me and whatever is out there in the darkity darkness of Wildfire.
The question hangs there and I scramble to remember my cover story.Tina Quincy.
I'm supposed to be Tina Quincy from... where did I say I was from? Think, Tessa. Did I already tell him something? Am I about to contradict myself?
"New York," I finally manage, going with the truth, and hoping it won’t unravel my lies.
He snorts, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorframe. "You think a bear is dangerous? Bears don't mug you. They don't carjack you or break into your apartment while you're sleeping. They just want food, or to be left alone. Or to protect their family. They’re not malicious. They have no hidden agendas."
"Bears are bigger than muggers."
Beau smiles and I think his eyes lighten a shade. "Some are. Some aren’t. But they’re a hell of a lot more predictable than people."
Something snuffles against the side of the house, and panic cinches around my windpipe.
Oh my God. Oh my God, it's right there.
