Page 3 of Tinder Embrace
Davis grunted, and I squinted at him, crawling closer. Underneath his farmer's tan, he looked unnaturally pale. Remorse filled me. I hadn’t asked for his help, but he’d sprinted to my rescue just the same. I felt responsible.
I reached out a tentative hand, scowling when he jerked away as if stung. He didn’t need to act like I’d crashed on purpose, like I’d meant to hurt him.
"I'm just trying to help," I assured. "Do you think it's broken?"
He shook his head, shaggy hair flying from side to side. "No."
His gruff denial shut down my urge to argue, but something about the stubborn tilt to his lips told its own story. If not broken, my moneywas on badly bruised or strained. His refusal to admit his discomfort made me think he was putting on a brave face for me. The stubborn man was both heroic and delusional if he thought I wouldn’t see through his protests. Pain etched his features, clear as glass.
“Why did you try to catch me?” I asked, dismayed.
Davis’s dead-eye stare communicated clearly that he didn’t think my question deserved a response. He probably acted on instinct, sensing the panic I’d tried to hide.
He played hero and paid the price. I should be thanking him, but guilt kept me mute. I didn’t mean to bring my troubles to his doorstep. Davis barely tolerated me as it was. I didn’t want to give him more fuel to feed his dislike.
With a hiss, I pushed to my feet, limping to Bee-gonia's envelope, and started the process of straightening her lines, preparing to pack up.
"What are you doing?" Davis barked, rushing to my side.
I took a shuddering breath. Now that the immediate danger had passed, adrenaline was making me shaky. I was tempted to turn and bury myself in his arms for comfort, even if he’d more than likely push me away.
"Cleaning up my mess," I grumbled, too ashamed to look at him.
"You're injured."
"Yes, and I'm also responsible," I admitted, chagrined as I pushed through the twinges in my ankle, forcing myself to start my post-flight checks.
"Sit down." He placed a gentle hand on my wrist, his touch having an immediate impact on my nervous system. Not quite the hug I craved, but that little bit of contact still helped calm me.
"When I'm done."
"Sit.Down."
His deep bark was intended to cow me, but a quick glance at the lines of pain around his eyes cooled my desire to teacher-voice him into submission.
"Don't worry," I soothed, forcing a smile. "Gwen will be here any minute with my rig. As soon as Bee-gonia is packed up, she can drive us to the clinic and get you checked out. We'll both get fixed up sooner than you can say Crabby Patty."
"Crabby Patty," Davis grunted between clenched teeth.
I shrugged, and he released me, pacing a few feet away. "Okay, maybe notquitethat fast."
My heart was slowly returning to a normal rhythm, but my stomach swirled with nausea. I felt like hot garbage. Not just because Davis had tried to help me and gotten hurt for his troubles, but because I'd crashed Bee-gonia and likely messed up my ankle as well. Chasing my students with an injury was going to make the next few weeks hell.
Gwen pulled up in my SUV and trailer to haul Bee-gonia, and I heaved a sigh of relief. Reinforcements,finally.
"You okay, Sophie?" Gwen called as she slipped from the driver's seat, sliding on her leather gloves.
"I'll live." I gestured to Bee-gonia's basket. "My landing was a little rough. Davis and I are both banged up. Can you help me get everything loaded, then drive us to the clinic?"
Gwen tutted. "Of course." She glanced at Davis. He clutched his arm to his chest, a pained expression pinching his features. "You don't look so good."
Davis's face grew thunderous, and my heart sank, guilt filling me. It was my fault he'd gotten hurt. Any hopes that it wasn't that bad were fading fast. Usually, you couldn't keep Davis still. He was always off somewhere, doing chores. The way he'd plopped his butt down in the grass didn't bode well for my hopes that his injury was minor.
I scrambled to my side of the basket, scowling when Davis moved to grab an extra handle with his right hand, helping us maneuver the heavy burden into the trailer.
"Davis, your arm."
"My right one is fine."
