Page 40 of Mr. Fixer Upper
The warm water soothed her aching muscles, and she rested her forehead against the cool tile. The only thing she hadn’t anticipated was her inability to lift her arms. She couldn’t seem to get them past shoulder height, which left her hair a damp, dirty tangle of dried blood and who knows what else. Paige shifted her feet and winced as pain shot like electricity through her system.
How was she going to get out of the tub?
Great. She was going to drown in the shower. This was the way her life would end. Not with a peaceful passing in her sleep at age ninety-seven. No, she’d just slide down this ivory tile and drown.
The door to the bathroom flew open and bounced off the wall. “Jeez, Cat!” Paige groaned pitifully. “What the hell?” Annoyed that her friend had ignored her wish for privacy, she was a little relieved that Cat could help her out of the tub.
But it wasn’t Cat ripping open the shower curtain and glaring at her.
It was Gannon.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
She stood with her hands braced against the tile water cascading down her bruised and bandaged body. But she was alive. The part of him that had clenched into panic with Mel’s announcement finally released.
When she didn’t attempt to yell at him or shield herself from his gaze, a new worry bloomed. She was every color of purple across most of her back, and he cringed at the patches of gauze and tape that looked as though they were holding her together. Steam billowed around his head.
“I can’t wash my hair,” she said finally. Paige’s voice had none of its usual authority, just exhaustion and that jagged edge of pain that hurt him to hear.
He wanted to scoop her up and lecture her on set safety. But that wasn’t what she needed. She needed comfort.
Gannon studied her, hands on hips, for almost a full minute and then sighed. He started to work the laces of his boots loose. Toeing them off, he tugged his t-shirt over his head.
“Oh my God. What are you doing?” Paige’s voice barely rose above the spray from the showerhead.
“I’m washing your damn hair.”
His jeans came next, and as his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his boxer briefs, Gannon noted that Paige’s head spun back to face the shower wall. The last thing she needed was to add whiplash to her ailments.
He stepped in behind her and pulled the shower curtain back in place.
“Gannon—”
“Save it. We’ll argue about this later.” He guided her head under the spray and brushed her hair back from her face.
“This isn’t happening.” She murmured it so faintly he wasn’t sure if she knew she said it out loud.
Gannon squirted a puddle of her shampoo into his callused hand. It smelled like coconuts. No wonder he always had visions of her on a beach in a tiny bikini—
He derailed that train of thought as soon as he felt the blood start to leave his head. Now was not the time.
He lowered the spray away from her face and worked his fingers through her hair in slow, gentle circles. A sigh escaped her lips and brought a lift to his.
The crown of suds grew with his ministrations until bubbles floated down between their bodies. He assumed that meant her hair was clean and adjusted the showerhead to rinse it clean.
The warm water swept the lather from her hair, sending it streaming down her bare back and lower still over the round curves of her—
Gannon clenched his jaw. She was hurt. A damn tent had clobbered her. This wasn’t the time to let his flag fly. Since he was in there with her, he sudsed up his own hair with her shampoo and quickly rinsed.
“Now what?” he said quietly in her ear.
“Conditioner,” she pointed weakly toward the skinny blue bottle perched in the corner. He reached around her, wet skin skimming wet skin and went instantly hard.
“Fuck,” he muttered and grabbed the bottle. So much for self-control.
He knew she felt him against her. Goddamn it. When had he lost complete control of his body? Suddenly he was fourteen again and getting hard-ons with a slight breeze.
She cleared her throat, and Gannon gritted his teeth. He poured the conditioner into his hand and put the bottle down behind him where he wouldn’t risk contact with her. But now she had goose bumps on her skin. Again, he reached around her this time to adjust the hot water. And again his cock brushed the smooth, wet curves of her ass.
