Page 53 of Chasing Home
Sighing, she nods behind me toward the house. “Fine. But you have to finish telling me about why you wanted to work on the ranch so young while you’re performing surgery on my finger.”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know, darlin’,” I promise without a second thought.
She doesn’t reply, and I don’t push. Not even once we step inside and I’m led down a dark, stuffy hallway toward the bathroom. The wood panelling gives me the shivers, reminding me of the days I spent at my great-grandmother’s house before she passed away. That place was truly haunted, and I really, really hope this one isn’t.
With a flick of the light, the small—no, tiny—room grows bright enough to burn my eyes. Rory moves quickly through the space, grabbing the first aid kit from the shelf beside the standing sink, and sets it in the basin. I’ve never kept tweezers in a first aid kit, but when she pulls them out from within the mess of bandages and antiseptic sprays, I wonder if maybe I should.
Stepping behind her, I reach around her body and hold her wrist again. I need to pluck the tweezers from her grip, but I’m frozen. She sucks in an audible breath and darts her stare to the medicine cabinet above the sink. The mirror makes it hard to hide the brutal desire in my eyes as I stare at her, trailing my gaze over every inch of her beautiful face. From the few hairs on the arch of her left brow that stick up more than the others to the small white scar that cuts into her bottom lip.
I want to know how she got it and how it would feel beneath my finger as I trace the shape of her lips. Fuck, she’s got me all tangled up inside. I just wish she would admit to herself that she feels the same way about me.
Her wrist is so small compared to the length of my fingers. They wrap around it with room to spare. The warmth seeping from her skin into mine is intoxicating. Addictive.
“Let me,” I whisper, finally releasing her wrist and sliding the tweezers free of the death grip she has on them.
“I can do it myself, Johnny.”
Her breathless tone has my cock straining in my jeans. She’ll feel it if I don’t take a step back, but fuck me, it feels like we’ve been tethered together, and pulling away will yank my heart right from my chest.
I swallow, grappling for my manners. “It’ll be quicker if I do it.”
Her lashes flutter as our stares hold in the mirror. “This doesn’t feel quicker.”
“No, I guess it doesn’t.”
The tweezers are cold between my fingers. So different from the blazing heat from her skin. I want to toss them in the trash and touch her again, but instead, I take that dreaded step back. When my heart stays rooted behind my rib cage, I take another step, giving us both room to breathe.
Her perfume lingers on my shirt, and that has my jeans growing even tighter.
“Let me see your finger,” I coax.
She turns to face me, and the blue in her eyes is even more vibrant up close. You can almost see the rough waves crashing around her pupils as she looks up at me, her hand extended between us, fingers brushing my chest.
“Should I time how long it takes you?” she asks, the tease so obvious in her voice that I can’t help but grin like a fool.
“Go for it, gorgeous. Maybe we should take bets.”
She hums, pushing her fingers a bit harder into my sternum. I lean forward, encouraging her to keep going.
Shove them deep, Rory. Wrap them around my heart and feel how fast it beats in your company.
“Bets are dangerous,” she muses.
“The best things are.”
Her pupils flare, swallowing all that dark blue. Her palm makes contact with my chest, and I swallow a groan, dropping my gaze to stare at it. Five fingers splayed, she keeps it there, unmoving.
Suddenly, the last thing I want to do is talk about my history with the ranch. Fuck it all to hell, I just want to stay like this.
“Are you dangerous, Johnny?”
“Not when it comes to you.”
Her lips part as she flicks her tongue along the bottom one, right over that small scar. “Liar.”
“We were making a bet. I’ll go first.” I shift closer again, testing her. She doesn’t drop her hand. Her elbow bends with the sudden lack of space between us. “It’ll take me under a minute to get the sliver out.”
“That’s a confident bet.”