Page 64 of Out on a Limb
“You’re a professional at removing splinters from boobs?”
“I’ve removed splinters from just about everywhere on my body.”
I looked at his nipples. “Boobs included?”
“Boobs included.” His gaze dipped before snapping back. “Yours are a little bigger than mine, though.”
I scoffed. “A little?”
“I was a chubby kid.”
“Are you saying I have the same boobs as a chubby ten-year-old boy?”
“I wasn’t ten.” He backed down the hall. “I was fifteen.”
“That’s not any better.” I leaned to watch where he went. “How did you get a splinter in your boob?
“Carrying firewood.”
That sounded plausible, which added credibility to his claim. “How did you get it out?”
Andrew flipped on the light in a room just off the hall. “Very carefully.”
The pain in my boob was ratcheting up with each passing second, and the spot seemed to be getting hotter and hotter. “You’ll be careful?”
“Very.”
I slowly moved in his direction. “If you make me cry I’m going to tell my friends and they’ll murder you.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” He backed into the bright light of the room. “They seem pretty wild.”
“They are.” I peeked into what turned out to be a bathroom.
A really nice, brand-new one. “Did you do this?”
“Yup.” He tipped his head to the wide double sink. “Sit up on the counter.”
“This is really pretty.” The walls were covered in jade green glass subway tiles that perfectly complemented the deep wood tone of the open sink base and bright white counter.
“Thank you.” He opened a built-in cabinet on the wall across from me and pulled out a green washcloth that he then ran under the tap of the sink on my right.
“Is green your favorite color?”
His lips pressed into a thoughtful frown. “I guess it is.”
“Mine too.”
He wrung most of the water out of the cloth before turning my way. “Shirt up.”
His tone was sharp and strong. No-nonsense enough to make me feel comfortable doing what he requested.
Like this was not as big of a deal as I was making it out to be.
I gathered the fabric, pulling it up and over the angrier of my tits.
Andrew draped the almost hot rag across my skin before turning back to the still-open built-in. “Your house doesn’t have any green in it.”
“I didn’t really have much to do with how my house looks.” I relaxed a little as the warm cloth seemed to soothe my irritated skin. “My granddad had an interior decorator pick everything out.”
