Page 11 of Falling

“Oh, sorry.” I lift the cloth to my chest. “Didn’t mean to flash you.”

His eyes stay trained on the ceiling.

“That sounds like a good plan…the bathroom and all the things you said.”

He nods and starts moving toward the hall. I follow him into a bedroom with an iron bed, a white quilt, and navy and white sheets. It’s tasteful and simple but beautiful. He keeps walking into a bathroom that takes my breath away. So unique. The wood in here is like thick stripes on the walls and a white freestanding tub sits in front of windows. The glass to the shower is so clean I barely see it on the left.

He gets a towel and washcloth out of the wire basket and sets it on the bench near the tub. Next, he opens a cabinet and gathers the supplies, lining them up in a row on the counter.

“You’re extremely organized. I don’t think I’ve ever owned gauze.”

“I like to be prepared.”

He’s still avoiding looking at me even though my towel is firmly in place.

“I picked the right place to crash.” My shoulders sag, and I’m suddenly exhausted. “Tomorrow will be a better day.”

He’s moving into the bedroom now and he brings back a large T-shirt.

“This will swim on you, but at least it won’t be tight against your burn.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” he grumbles, but it doesn’t sound mean. It sounds like a low bass-y rumble.

“I’m really glad my name’s not Ruby Fitzgibbons.”

“That would’ve sucked,” he says.

I look over my shoulder and smile at him.

I think he smiles back. At least, it’s an almost smile.

“You sure you’re going to be okay, Ruby Jones? Can I get you anything?”

“You’ve done enough.”

He grimaces. “I feel terrible about the burn.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I still feel terrible about it.”

“Junior’s the one who should feel terrible tonight. He didn’t even get to see me in this dress. I can’t believe I’m still in it. It was surprisingly comfortable on the drive, kinda slipped my mind.”

“Do you…need help getting out of it?” He clears his throat.

CHAPTER FOUR

INVESTED

Callum

Need help getting out of it?

I run my hand through my hair, trying not to look at her. Nothing I say is coming out right. Especially after that momentary glimpse of her exceptional tits.

“That sounded…wrong,” I say.

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