Page 10 of Wild Hearts

“W-what are you doing?” Her curious gaze roams over my bare chest and shoulders. She seems more concerned with my undressing than the blood gushing from her head, which can’t be good.

How hard did she hit her head?

“Trying to help you.”

“Getting naked is considered help?”

A reluctant chuckle rolls out of me. “When I need something to bandage an injured woman? Yes. Now, hold still.” I tear a few strips off my shirt and wrap it around her head. The light fabric quickly darkens from the incessant bleeding. “Damn, this isn’t working. We need to get you to the hospital.”

“No!” The outburst shocks me with its vehemence. “No doctors. I just need to go home.” She tries to stand, but I stop her.

“You can’t go home yet. You probably need stitches.”

Grace rolls her eyes. “You didn’t even check to see how deep the cut is. Head wounds always bleed a lot. It seems worse than it is.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Can you grab my bike, please?”

“Hell, no. So, you can injure yourself even more?” Ignoring me, she stubbornly staggers to her feet, and I brace myself, ready to catch her as she lifts the bike with a groan.

“See, I’m fine. I didn’t lose consciousness after the fall, so there’s nothing to worry about.” She bites her lip as if she’s trying to convince herself as much as me. “I’ll just walk home.”

“You’re really going to try and walk this off?” I study her pale complexion and the tight grip she has on the handlebars. She’s trying to put up a good front but failing miserably. “You look like you’re about to keel over any moment.” Pulling out my phone, I call Max. He should be up by now since he’s opening the shop.

“If you’re calling 911, you’re wasting your time.”

“Relax, I’m calling us a ride.” Once Max answers, I explain the situation and ask him to pick us up at the park. “Okay, my friend Max will be here in about ten minutes, which means you can sit now.”

Grace hesitates like she’s going to disobey the order then sinks down on a bench a few feet down the path.

“Finally, you listen. Was that so hard?” I grouse, lowering to a seat beside her, while Shadow stands sentinel between us until Max shows up. He shoots Grace a questioning look, her bandaged headdress dyed to different shades of pink and red at this point, but he keeps his mouth shut.

Wise man.

The two of us help Grace to his truck at the end of the trail—Max rolling her bike while I keep an arm wrapped around her soft waist. Shadow trots beside us, keeping a steady eye on the strangers near his mom.

“Alright, where am I going?”

Grace gives directions once we’re in the truck cab. It’s a five-minute drive to her apartment, and Max chatters the entire way. A barrage of questions are waiting for me at the end of this, since there’s no way he doesn’t recognize her as the woman from The Ole Aces last night.

But hell if I know how to answer them beyond laying out the facts of our accidental meeting this morning.

Grace smiles as Max cracks another joke, the first positive expression from her today, and it bugs the hell out of me that I’m not the one earning her favor.

Don’t be an idiot. What’s it matter?

After we’re parked, I reach up to help Grace from the tall truck cab, but as my hands settle on her hips, she rears back. “What are you doing?”

The anxiety in her tone gives me pause. “Helping you down. You’re short, and with a head injury, I don’t think you should be jumping anytime soon.”

Explanation tossed out, I take her in my arms, however unwillingly, and her nails find purchase in my shoulders as I gently lower her to the ground. The addicting scent of honey tickles my nose, tempting me to search out its source. Her hair? Her skin?

As soon as Grace’s feet touch the graveled lot, she attempts to escape my hold, slamming me back to reality—a reality that’s reinforced when she sways into the side of the truck.

“Whoa! I knew we should’ve taken you to the hospital.” My arm curls protectively around her waist to steady her. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

Shadow trails us, keeping a close eye on me. I thank Max for the ride and send him back to work without a backward glance. I can jog home from here, and his inquisition can wait.

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