Page 3 of Love JD

“Fuck.” She glanced up the length of the tree to where her dress hung limply from the trunk. Realization dawned, and she hinged a look down at her body. She was naked except for a padded bra that looked nine million years old and pink granny panties even a nursing home would reject. Her cheeks went bright pink as she rotated an owlish stare my way. “Um.”

I blinked. “You’re welcome.” She crossed her arms over her breasts, but in doing so, she pushed them up so they spilled over the cups and hooked my gaze like magnets. I kept my eyes trained on her round face and pink lips with a monumental effort. “I think you broke your ankle.”

She gave her swelling ankle a despairing look. “It really hurts.”

“What were you doing up there?” I grunted, standing and shrugging off my suit jacket with a wince. My ribs felt bruised, and my ass was practically numb from the impact.

“I, uh,” she glanced back at the tree. “Well, I was trying to get a sample.”

I paused, jacket halfway off my arms. “A sample?”

She pointed to the trunk, which had light green, fuzzy shit growing in a spiral from the lower branches up to the narrowing tip. “Yeah, of lichen.” I stared at her, hardly believing what she’d said. She tucked her lip between her teeth and folded her arms tighter. “What?”

“You climbed a tree,” I clarified slowly, “to get some fungus?”

“Lichen,” she corrected. “It’s lobarina scrobiculata, and I haven’t seen any up close, so I thought—”

I tossed my jacket her way, cutting off whatever tirade she’d started. “Are you insane? You climbed a tree on your own, used your dress like a shitty harness, and nearly killed yourself so you could get up close and personal with a plant?”

She glanced at the jacket in repulsion. Hesitating, she fed her hands through the sleeves with a furtive glance at me as I towered over her with my hands low on my hips. “S’not a plant,” she muttered.

I glared so hard, she shrank as she folded my suit jacket over her slight body. This entire situation was making me sweaty, and I unbuttoned the top button of my dress shirt, loosening my tie. “Who are you, anyway? Are you here for the wedding?”

“Yes,” she hedged, starting to get up, and then grimacing when the pain in her ankle tugged her back down.

“Yes, and?” I prodded, still looming over her.

“Can’t you just take me inside?” she huffed, and her dark brows pinched together in annoyance. “I’ll call a rideshare to a hospital or something.”

That was possibly the strangest thing I’d heard from the tree sprite yet. If she was here for a wedding, then surely, she knew someone who would be worried about her. Someone who would at least be willing to drive her to the hospital. I slid my hands in my pockets. “How do you know Cade and Laurel?”

“I don’t,” she admitted. The sleeves of my jacket covered her hands completely, and she stared down at her knees. “I didn’t even want to come, honestly.” Chagrined, she added, “Clearly, it was a mistake.”

She’d piqued my interest. I crouched down in front of her, searching her uncertain features. “Listen, I’m not sure I feel comfortable saving a tree-hugger only to send her away in a taxi to find a hospital on her own. Surely, you know someone here.”

Her expression scrunched before she squinted up at me reluctantly. “I do, but… please believe me. I’d much rather be on my own.” Sighing, I pressed my lips together. Her throat bobbed as she stared back, her fawn eyes wide and pleading. “I can handle myself,” she insisted.

“You passed out in a tree,” I reminded her.

“Yeah, about that,” she muttered, looking down and tucking a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. “Listen, it’s not a big deal. I have a medical condition. I randomly pass out sometimes—especially if I’m nervous—and it happens at like… all the worst times.”

“Like a fainting goat?” I asked, my voice tinted with humor.

She gave me an irritated scowl. “I guess.”

“So,” I drew out the word incredulously, “you climbed a tree? Knowing you could conk out up there?”

She gestured lamely to the dress. “I figured that would catch me.”

This chick needed adult supervision. Immediately. “Okay, well, there’s something called a ‘duty to assist’ law here in Utah, which imposes a legal obligation on individuals who witness a danger to another person’s life.” I gave her an up-down perusal. “You are clearly in danger, so I’m not going to chuck you in a car and hope for the best.”

She glared, and her sweet features went from sugar-dusted to spicy in two seconds flat. “I appreciate your help, but you can leave now.”

First, she was sweet, and now, she was sour. I’d always been a big fan of sweet and sour chicken. Intriguing. I tilted forward, shimmying my arms under her legs and behind her back, and then I braced myself to pick her up. “That’s very brave. And stupid.” I lifted her, bouncing her slightly to adjust my hold on her rigid, protesting form.

“Oh my God,” she groaned. “Please put me down.”

I paused, settling her weight in my arms and hooking her startled gaze with a steely one of my own. “Right here? Just drop you?”

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