Page 43 of Gripp

Gripp didn’t look at the snake but leaned down and studied her wound. He ran a finger around it, and April felt the pressure as it began to throb.

“I have antibiotics,” he said. “Let’s sit for a second.”

April found a tree stump to sit on while Gripp rifled through his pack. He pulled out a pill bottle and gave it a quick shake in her direction.

He gave her a wink, which was absolutely enchanting.

“You never know when these will come in handy,” he said.

He removed the lid and shook out two pills. He handed them to April along with a water bottle. There wasn’t much water left in the bottom at all.

“I can’t drink all of this,” she said, holding the pills. “What are you going to have?”

Gripp shrugged, then knelt before her to take a look at her ankle. For a second, April thought about a medieval painting she had seen in college where a man knelt before a woman who looked to be his queen. The way Gripp held her foot made her feel that way, as if she was royalty he worshiped.

“We aren’t far from the rendezvous,” he said. “I’m mostly concerned about the marsh that’s up ahead. I wouldn’t want this to get infected.”

April nodded, then leaned back on the stump. She soaked in the image of the handsome, sexy man kneeling in front of her. It made her core burn with desire.

He lifted his head as if to read her mind, then raised an eyebrow.

“Drink up,” he ordered.

April did as he asked. She was glad he had come prepared and was so concerned about making sure she was as comfortable as she could be.

He then removed a few bandages from his pack, wrapping them around her wound. When it was snug, he sat next to her on the stump.

Without thinking, April leaned her head against his shoulder. He leaned his head against hers, and they sat quietly, contemplating the world around them. April considered bringing up the topic of their lives after they returned home. They were so calm here, so connected, so easygoing. But at the same time, she worried about shattering that comfort.

She had spent so much of her life questioning things no one had thought about. She knew she was braver than most. But when it came to confessing her feelings, April’s jaw was clamped tight as though it had been wired shut.

She closed her eyes and breathed him in. She wished she could open his mind like a door and walk through to absorb all of the beauty.

April was lightly dozing when Gripp squeezed her knee. When she opened her eyes, she saw him looking down at her, smiling like a golden sun.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked, rubbing her leg.

She nodded instinctively. The wound pulsed a bit, but she would be okay physically. All because of him.

Mentally, she wasn’t completely sure.

“I’m okay, just tired,” she replied.

Gripp squeezed her knee again, then stood. He held out a hand to her with that handsome smile still strung across his face.

“I know, sweetheart,” he said. “We’re almost there, though. You’re such a fucking badass.”

April felt something bloom in her heart that she’d never felt before. She could no longer deny it. She wanted him in more ways than just the physical.

She took his hand, and he pulled her into him. Her breasts brushed against his chest, and she gasped. He lifted her chin, and they kissed softly.

“I like being your badass,” she whispered.

The sparks between them were palpable. But they couldn’t keep stopping to make love, though April would never complain.

Gripp kissed her again, lips pressed so hard she tilted backward. When she opened her mouth for him, he pulled away, then he bit his own bottom lip.

“Bad girl,” he murmured. “We should really move. I don’t want that wound to get worse.”

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