Rainshadow Road(53)

One of his brows arched. “Something wrong with that?”

“Not at all. It’s just the kind of thing I would expect an old person to have, not a guy your age.”

“I have hard-to-reach places,” Sam said in a deadpan tone. After he saw the smile tugging at her lips, he said, “Also, we wash Renfield in there.”

Sam went to shower and shave while she ate. He returned wearing a pair of raggedy-looking jeans and a T-shirt that proclaimed SCHRÖDINGER’S CAT IS ALIVE.

“What does that mean?” Lucy asked, reading the shirt.

“It’s a principle in quantum theory.” Sam set a plastic bag of supplies on the floor, and lifted the bed tray away from Lucy’s lap. “Schrödinger was a scientist who used the example of a cat placed in a box with a radioactive source and a flask of poison, to demonstrate how an observation affects an outcome.”

“What happens to the cat?”

“Do you like cats?”

“Yes.”

“Then you don’t want me to tell you about the theorem.”

She made a face. “Don’t you have any optimistic T-shirts?”

“This one is optimistic,” Sam said. “I just can’t tell you why, or you’ll bitch about the cat.”

Lucy chuckled. But as Sam approached the bed and reached for the covers, she fell silent and shrank back, her heart lurching into overdrive.

Sam let go of the bed linens at once, his expression carefully neutral. He studied her, his gaze alighting on her tightly crossed arms. “Before we do this,” he said quietly, “let’s deal with the elephant in the room.”

“Who’s the elephant?” Lucy asked warily.

“No one’s the elephant. The elephant is the fact it’s surprisingly awkward to help a woman take a shower when I haven’t had sex with her first.”

“I’m not going to have sex with you just to make the shower easier,” Lucy said.

That drew a brief grin from him. “Don’t take it personally, but you’re wearing a hospital garment printed with little yellow ducks, and you’re also bandaged and bruised. So you’re not doing a thing for my libido. You’re also on drugs, which leaves you unable to make decisions on your own behalf. All of which means there is absolutely no chance that I’m going to make any moves on you.” He paused. “Does that make you feel better?”

“Yes, but…” Lucy’s cheeks burned. “While you’re helping me, you’re probably going to get an eyeful.”

His face was grave, but amusement lurked in the corners of his mouth. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Lucy sighed heavily. “I guess there’s no alternative.” She pushed back the covers and tried to sit up.

Sam came to her immediately, fitting his arm behind her back. “No, let me do the work. You’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t take it easy. I’m going to help you to the edge of the bed. All you have to do is sit up and let your legs hang over—yes, like that.” His breath stopped abruptly as Lucy grappled with the hem of the hospital garment, which had ridden high on her hip. “Okay.” He started breathing again. “We’re not supposed to take the splint off. But the nurse said to wrap it in plastic when you shower, to keep it from getting wet.” He reached for the bag of supplies and pulled out a bulky roller of nonadhesive clear wrap affixed to a metal handle.

Lucy waited quietly while Sam proceeded to wrap her entire lower leg. His touch was deft and careful, but the occasional brush of his fingertips at her knee or behind her calf sent ticklish sensations along her skin. His head was bent over her, his hair rich and dark. Surreptitiously she leaned forward to catch the scent that rose from the back of his neck, a summery smell, like sun and mown grass.

When the leg was covered to Sam’s satisfaction, he looked up from his kneeling position on the floor. “How does it feel? Too tight?”

“It’s perfect.” Lucy noticed that his color had heightened, the high crests of his cheeks burnished beneath the rosewood tan. And he wasn’t breathing well. “You said I wasn’t doing anything for your libido.”

Sam tried to look penitent. “Sorry. But wrapping you in mover’s tape is the most fun I’ve had since college.” As he stood and picked Lucy up, she clung to him automatically, her pulse quickening at the feel of his easy strength.

“Do you need to … calm down?” she asked delicately.

Sam shook his head, rueful amusement flickering in his eyes. “Let’s just assume this is my default mode during showertime. Don’t worry—I still won’t make any moves on you.”