Page 37 of Her Summer Hope
He grabbed her arm. “You’re bleeding. It’s not nothing,” he insisted.
Her arm tingled where he touched it as he led her down the employee hallway to the small living room and sat her on the couch. She jumped up. “I’ll get the couch wet.”
“It’ll dry. Sit.” He gave her a gentle look, but the command was firm.
She sat because it would be silly to argue about it.
He went to the small attached kitchenette and looked under the sink. A moment later, he returned with a first aid kit and a small towel. “For your hair,” he said, smiling gently.
She took the towel, unbraided her hair, and began squeezing the excess water from the strands. “Thanks. I can do this.”
He gave her a grin that made her forget her own name and she gaped at him.
God, what is it with this man?!
It was a completely horrible and inopportune time for her sex drive to make a reappearance.
Even if there was a universe where Kyle would want her, she couldn’t be intimate with a man. She was a mother to four children and it showed on her body.
More than that, she would feel guilty for leaving her children with Helen just to satisfy her untimely urges and she would never in a million years invite a man to her home for that.
It was an impossible situation and she wished Rob were alive so that she could scream at him, and maybe punch him in the nose for good measure.
How dare he put her in this position. They were supposed to be forever. She was supposed to be settled and past worrying about all this.
She was supposed to be cherished as a wife and mother. Instead, she was alone and lonely.
“Hey, I’m not a combat medic, but I’ve had some training,” he reassured. “I’m more than qualified to slap a bandaid on your leg.”
That wasn’t the point. She felt guilty for having her boss literally kneeling at her feet and taking care of an insignificant injury.
She ducked her head, embarrassed for her clumsiness earlier and her situation now. “I’m sorry. I’m wasting your time,” she said, shaking her head.
“Madison,” he coaxed. “You are not a waste of my time and it’s just a bandaid,” he said. “Everyone falls sometimes and everyone needs a little help. Now let me help you before your leg turns gangrenous and we have to amputate.”
She snorted and smiled as he rolled up her pant leg. The jeans were fairly tight, but he managed to expose the area without too much trouble. She had a moment of panic where she couldn’t remember if she shaved her legs recently, but then remembered that she did.
She remembered it because Jackson had sat outside the bathroom door the whole time singing Chris Stapleton songs to Emmie to keep her happy.
She didn’t even know how he knew the words.
He hissed through his teeth when he saw the injury. “Woman, you’ve done some damage,” he said, gently pressing the area around the cut. “It’s swelling and already turning colors. Let me get this cleaned up and I’ll get you an ice pack.”
She sat patiently while he wiped the blood away and applied the ointment and the bandage. He threw the trash in the can and washed his hands, then came back with a small ice pack wrapped in a cloth. “Keep this on for about ten minutes, take it off for ten, and then put it back on.”
She gaped at him. “I can’t stay here. It’s only one-thirty!”
“You’ll be back in a couple of hours anyway,” he pointed out. “It’s no big deal. We’ve got a T.V. and there are books in the library if you’d rather not have my company,” he teased.
“I…it’s not that. I have obligations at home. I have to do things before I can come back here,” she explained.
“Your husband, right,” he said apologetically. “Sorry, of course you have to go.” He seemed to stop and think something over. “Is he home a lot?”
She paused as he looked at her inquiringly. “Uh, no. No, he’s gone a lot.”
“That’s hard, I know,” he said commiseratingly. “I’m sure you want to see him every chance you can. Is he in the service?”
“No. He’s a sales manager for a large marketing firm.”