I heard water running as she flushed and then washed her hands. The door swung open and I caught her around the waist as she swayed on her feet, much like she had the night she pulled herself out of the wreckage of her car. Her forehead hit my throat again and her working arm wound around my neck as the injured one pressed into my chest. She heaved a deep sigh and her words were warm across my skin when she spoke.
“I’m glad you turned over a new leaf, Ben. The old one sounds pretty terrible.”
I ran my hand up and down her back, feeling tension and exhaustion along every lean line of her body. She was about to drop. Without asking, I scooped her up into my arms and started back to the bed.
“The leaf had its moments when it kept the rain out but it definitely isn’t a leaf made for everyone.” I laid her back down as lightly as I could and bit back a groan of pure male appreciation as my palm skimmed her calves when I helped her get her legs back under the covers. Her skin was as soft as butter and all I wanted to do was keep working my hands up higher and higher until they were under the hem of the too-big shirt that was keeping her covered. “I need to run outside and grab the cot so I can crash. You couldn’t pay me enough to sleep on these floors.” I hadn’t cleaned them in the months I’d been living there and who knew when they’d been mopped before my arrival.
I was getting ready to push off the bed when her fingers curled into the collar of my shirt, balling the cotton up in her fist.
“I don’t want to kick you out of your bed, Ben. You’ve already gone above and beyond the call of duty where this particular damsel in distress is concerned.”
I peeled her fingers loose and stood upright. “You aren’t kicking me out of my bed, Pop-Tart. I’m willingly giving it to you while you’re stuck up here with me.” Color me surprised that I actually could be a gentleman on occasion. No one back home would believe it.
She glanced down at the bed then back up at me. Her eyes were so blue it was like drowning in the deepest part of the ocean each time she blinked.
“You don’t have to give it up. That’s ridiculous. I’ve been unconscious and at your mercy for who knows how long. If you were going to try anything funny, you would have done it when I couldn’t fight back. The bed is big enough to share.” She gave me a lopsided smirk and worked herself over to the far side, the side her bad arm was on. “Besides, I normally find myself in bed with the absolutely wrong kind of man. This won’t be anything new for me.”
Well, wasn’t that a kick in the teeth?
I wanted to be the only wrong man she found herself in bed with, but that didn’t stop me from pulling back the covers and sliding in next to her. I told myself I would keep my hands to myself and remain on my best behavior.
But like I mentioned…I was a damn good liar.
Chapter 5
Echo
I couldn’t get comfortable. I was so tired my entire body felt like it was made of lead, my limbs were too heavy to lift, and my eyes were too tired to stay open. The dull throb in my shoulder, the ache that wouldn’t stop, kept me wide awake and shifting restlessly all night long as sleep eluded me. I tried to be as still as I could so that I didn’t disturb or accidentally bump into my distractingly attractive bedmate, but it only took a half hour before my restlessness had him rolling out of bed and padding quietly across the small space.
I opened my mouth to apologize for forcing him out of his bed when he was as obviously exhausted as I was, but the words were drowned out by the sound of running water and the clinking of metal on metal as he put a cast-iron pan on top of the stove. He bent to throw a couple more logs into the dwindling fire, making my mouth go dry when he stripped his shirt off as a burst of heat filled the room. I knew he was strong and packing some serious definition under that winter-appropriate clothing. However, there was no being prepared for the pure masculine beauty that was put on display when they were removed. His skin was touched with gold and orange light from the open door of the stove, highlighting thick slabs of muscle and a stomach that looked like it had been chiseled from stone. Every part of him was cut, defined, and sharp. There wasn’t an extra ounce of fat on him anywhere, and he had a little dusting of dark chest hair that spread out and arrowed down across that impressive stomach toward the happiest trail I had ever seen.
I wanted to run my fingers over it. I wanted to touch it and stroke it to see if it was as soft as his beard was. The man didn’t mess around when it came to product and personal hygiene. His beard was silky and springy and when I was close enough to him to smell it, all I got was hints of coconut and honey. Not to mention, he hadn’t showered or been to bed since rescuing me from the crash site and his thick, dark hair was stuck firmly in its trendy style.