When I'm Gone(6)

We stepped outside and saw that my truck had arrived. I had been waiting for someone to drop it off. Good, I could drive it instead of her car.

“Where’s your car?” I asked her.

“I don’t have one.”

“Did someone bring you?” I asked, already knowing her answer would be that her boyfriend had brought her. Fuck.

“I have a neighbor who works at the Kerrington Country Club. I ride with him, and then I walk here from there.”

A neighbor. “He doesn’t bring you here?”

She shook her head and looked at me like I was crazy. “No. It’s like a mile away. I enjoy the walk.”

“Who’s your neighbor?” I ask.

“His name is Jimmy.”

I was going to have a talk with Jimmy. It wasn’t safe for someone who looked like her to be walking around by herself. Rosemary Beach was a safe place, but there were people who drove through going from one town to the next. “Does Jimmy take you home?”

She glanced at me with uncertainty. Like she wasn’t sure she should answer me. “Sometimes—yes, most of the time.”

Why didn’t she have a car? She had to be twenty-one or twenty-two. She wasn’t a kid. She had a job and an apartment, I would assume. “How do you get home when Jimmy doesn’t give you a ride?” I asked, holding the truck door open for her. I held out my hand for her to take with her good one and helped her into the truck cab.

“I walk,” she replied, not looking at me.

Fucking hell.

Glancing down at her cheap flip-flops, I noticed that she had perfect little pink-tipped toes. Even her feet had to be sexy? Damn.

She tucked her feet back, and I knew she had seen me looking at them. I closed the truck door and took my time walking around to the driver’s side. This girl needed help, but I couldn’t save her. I was here for a week, maybe two, before I headed back to Texas. Getting worked up over this girl’s problems wasn’t smart.

My cell phone started ringing in my pocket before I could start the engine, and I knew it was Harlow. She was expecting me at around two. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was almost two now.

“Hey,” I said into the phone, as I cranked up the truck and headed toward the main road.

“Did you get some sleep?” she asked. I could hear Lila Kate, her baby girl, fussing in the background.

“Uh, yeah,” I replied. I couldn’t tell her how little sleep I’d gotten, since the reason was sitting beside me.

“You still coming at two? Grant said he’d give us an hour and then he’ll be here by three.”

I glanced over at Reese’s injured hand. That was going to take a while. An ER waiting room was never fast. “There was an accident this morning. The girl who cleans Nan’s house fell and sliced her hand open. I’m taking her to get stitches. Could be a while before I get there.”

“Oh, no!” Harlow said, her voice filled with concern. One of the many reasons I preferred Harlow to Nan. “Is she OK?”

She hadn’t even winced when I cleaned her with peroxide. Hell, I even winced when I had a cut like that. “Seems to be. Just a nasty cut. She doesn’t have a car, and I’ll need to take her home afterward. Might be later on tonight before I get there. But you’ve got me the rest of the week. You’ll be sick of my face before Sunday,” I assured her.

Harlow laughed. “Doubt it, but that’s fine. Take your time. Get her fixed up and safely home. I’ll take a nap with Lila Kate. She was up a lot last night. She’s teething.”

“Get some sleep, then, sweetheart. I’ll see you tonight,” I replied, before ending the call.

“You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll get a cab to take me home,” Reese said.

I wasn’t leaving her to get stitches and take a cab home. Did I look like the kind of jackass who would do that? “I’ll stay with you,” I said firmly.

“Really, it’s very nice of you to take me. But I’ve had cuts worse than this before. I don’t even need stitches. I can just finish up cleaning and head home.”

What? Was she serious? “You’re getting stitches, and I’m taking you home.” I was frustrated and getting pissed. Not at her. God, who the hell could get pissed at someone who looked like her? But I was pissed that she seemed to think it was OK not to get stitches.

She didn’t argue this time. I glanced over at her, and she was sitting straighter, and her body was leaning toward the door as if she was trying to get away from me. Had I scared her?

“Look, Reese, you were cleaning my sister’s house, and you got hurt. It’s our responsibility to make sure you are properly taken care of. I’m not going to let you finish cleaning the house today or even tomorrow. You can come back once your hand is better and it doesn’t hurt. I’ll be here all week, and I clean up after myself, unlike my sister. I don’t need a housecleaner.”