Page 4 of Love Takes A Tumble
She studied him for a moment. "My laptop. And the blue folder on the desk."
"I'll show you to Ms. Whitaker's room," Elise said, rising from her knees. To Audrey, she added, "If that's alright with you?"
Audrey nodded, looking slightly flustered. "Yes, thank you. That would be helpful."
As Harrison followed Elise toward the stairs, he heard Jacob's low chuckle. "Resident knight in shining armor."
He rolled his eyes. So he liked to help. Was that such a bad thing? It gave him something to do beyond staring at the ocean and wondering what in the world he was supposed to do with the rest of his life.
But as he climbed the stairs, he couldn't help remembering the warmth of Audrey against his side and the way her indignation had gradually softened into reluctant acceptance. There was something compelling about her stubborn independence.
He recognized it all too well. It was like looking in a mirror.
Harrison returned to the parlor with Audrey's laptop and folder to find her already scribbling notes on a legal pad, her injured foot elevated on the pillows Jacob had provided. The morning sun streamed through the windows, catching the silver threads in her chestnut hair.
"Special delivery," he said, setting the items carefully on the coffee table beside her.
She glanced up, a flicker of surprise crossing her features as if she hadn't expected him to actually return. "Thank you. You really didn't have to."
"No trouble." He hesitated, noticing how she winced slightly as she shifted position. "How's the ankle?"
"Fine." The word came automatically, her attention already drifting back to her notes.
Harrison should have taken the hint. Should have nodded politely and walked away. Instead, he found himself lingering, moving to straighten a stack of magazines on a nearby table. "Working on your novel?"
Audrey's pen paused mid-sentence. "Yes."
"What's it about?"
She gave him a long look, as if trying to determine whether his interest was genuine. "A woman who inherits an old lighthouse. She discovers journals from the former keeper that reveal a century-old mystery." A pause. "It's still taking shape."
"Sounds interesting." He meant it. "I always liked lighthouses."
The corners of her mouth twitched. Not quite a smile but close. "They're good metaphors. Solitary, steadfast. Warning others of danger."
Something in her tone made him wonder if she saw herself that way too. Before he could respond, she shifted again, and this time couldn't hide her grimace of pain.
"That ankle's getting worse," he observed, noticing the swelling had increased despite the ice. "You should have it checked out."
"It's just a sprain."
"Maybe. Maybe not." Harrison studied her, recognizing the stubborn set of her jaw. "There's a clinic in town. I could drive you. Twenty minutes, tops."
"I have work to do."
"Your novel will still be there after you've taken care of yourself."
She glanced up sharply. "You sound like Elise."
"She’s a smart woman."
Audrey sighed, setting her pen down. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm perfectly capable of managing a minor injury."
"Never said you weren't capable." He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Just offering a ride."
She studied him for a long moment. "Why?"
The question caught him off guard. "Why what?"
