Page 15 of Her Filthy Grump

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Page 15 of Her Filthy Grump

“Ah, Layla.” His face falls. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“It’s fine.” I wave him off and raise the camera again. Cole heads to the parking lot. I’m not in the mood to deal with Mr. Brooding and Pensive.

I step toward the street corner to get a better angle of the doors to the fire station. At this vantagepoint, I can get the large Station 10 sign and the flag in one shot.

My foot catches on the sidewalk, causing me to stumble into the street. I shriek, and my camera flies up in the air. At the last second, the strap catches on the back of my neck, and gravity jerks it back down, smacking me in the chest.Fuck.

“Layla!” Kameron’s sharp tone jerks my attention to him as I hop on my non-sore foot.

“What?”

“Watch out.” He runs toward me and yanks me into his arms. The second I smash into his hard chest, a horn honks and a pickup truck rockets past.

My pulse beats in my ears until I can’t hear anything but it and my ragged breathing.Holy fuck. That was close.

My fingers clutch at the fabric of his T-shirt, and his heart thuds furiously against the back of my fingers. “Thank you.”

“For the love of Christ, Layla, can you watch what you’re doing for once? You’re driving me fucking crazy.” His hands skate down my arms, and my nipples pucker.Shit.I curve my shoulders inward to keep from advertising my reaction. He’s clinically evaluating me, and I’m thinking about climbing him like a tree and purring.

“I’m sorry.” I shake my head. “I don’t usually act this ditzy.”It’s only when you’re around.I bite my lips shut to keep those words from spilling out of my mouth. I unclasp my hands from his shirt, and he squats down in front of me with his fingers working over my ankle, checking for damage.

When he presses on the inside of my ankle, I wince.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes.”

“We should go inside and wrap it.”

My eyes dart to the building. That’s a long way to hop. Before I can say anything, he scoops me up in his arms. “I’ll take you inside. We’ll get it wrapped and find you some medicine to take. If it swells up, you’re going to need something to keep the pain down.”

I wrap my arms around his neck, sniff his aftershave, and moan inwardly.God, he smells good.

“Are you okay? I’m not hurting you, am I?”

Fuck.I didn’t moan inwardly.Fuck my life.“Yes, I’m okay. You aren’t hurting anything.”

His five o’clock shadow makes his face even sexier. I stiffen, and my face floods with heat. This is so bad. I don’t ever react to men this way. Sure, I like to look at guys and have even fantasized about more than a few. But physically responding without any provocation? Acting like a giddy teenager? That isn’t me.

“Okay, I’ll try not to hurt you on the way inside.” One of his arms cradles my back, and the other supports my legs.

When we reach the door, I scoot higher up his chest and hold on tighter so he can use his hand to twist the knob. My chest is practically in his face, and his eyes dart downward. Then, he jerks his head back up.

As we cross the threshold, I nearly swoon. No one’s ever carried me anywhere romantically. I’ve always envied those storybook princess books where the girl gets swept off her feet and carried over the threshold. It feels amazing, like I expected.

Please God, don’t let my dad be working. Or Gavin for that matter. I’ll never hear the end of this.

Chapter Ten

Kameron

Little Miss Cupcake is driving me up the wall. She ignores her safety. She’s reckless and surrounded by chaos. And even worse. She feels fantastic in my arms. It’s time to fix that part of the problem.

When I arrive at the kitchenette, I drop her carefully into a chair and search for the first aid kit. The quicker I fix her up, the faster she goes.

I open the drawer where we keep our in-house supply of first aid gear and drag out an Ace bandage wrap, tape, and a bottle of ibuprofen. That should be everything. Shouldn’t it. Do I need anything else?

I twist at the waist and look at her. She’s pulled out the adjacent seat, propped her foot up on the cushion, and her hair cascades over her shoulder, obscuring my view of her face.




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