Page 7 of The Spark Between Us

“Fine, damsel in distress, I’m going to keep emptying your car. Is that okay by you?” I grinned, pouring on a bit of charm to try to blunt her discomfort. I organized her boxes in a neat stack.

“Sure. Thank you,” she croaked, grimacing. “Oh, and could I have my lunch?” She tipped her head toward the paper bag I held in my hand with her purse. I forked it over. She carefully unfolded the top, took a crustless sandwich on wheat from a baggie, and took a bite.

This woman had probably totaled her car, and her chief concern was eating her PB&J. I’d seen pretty much everything in my line of work, but I hadn’t seen that. It wasn’t until her eyes fluttered up at me that I realized I was still staring at her face.

“Check for swelling in her cervical spine. Something’s pinching a nerve,” I told the medics, turning away before my smile betrayed how much I liked looking at her. I went back to grab another load from the car.

In no way had I ever viewed a car accident as a means to hit on a woman—creepy and opportunistic was not my style. But I’d also never found it so hard to look away from someone. I suddenly wanted to know what else she had in that lunch bag and why she had all the books in her car. She had me intrigued after only a minute. What the hell was that about?

I heard Mitch laugh. “Too salty to be a damsel. Guess you’re not in too much pain if you’ve got an appetite, but we still need the medics to check you out.”

I stacked a few more boxes, all of them heavy.

“I told you. I’m fine.” She looked from Mitch to Cash to me, and then she looked at the other two medics. The color drained from her face. “Actually, maybe I should lie down for a minute.” She immediately shifted into a reclining position on the stretcher and curled her knees into her chest. “Sorry, vaso-vagal...it happens sometimes when I get nervous.”

She hadn’t seemed nervous. Was it the crowd? The attention? I felt an oddly possessive need to protect her from whatever was bothering her. The more we all hovered, the more she seemed desperate not to have people fussing over her. Here I was adding to the mess.

You’re also acting like a lovestruck idiot.

I gave myself an invisible slap and went back to work emptying her shit out of the car.

The medics edged in with oxygen and started taking her vitals.

“Let’s start with your name,” Johnny, one of the medics, said.

“It’s Sarah,” she said, and I felt a stir in my gut at her name. Had to be a coincidence that Finn’s sister had the same name...right?

“Do you know what day of the week it is, today’s date?” Johnny asked. Standard question to assess whether she’d sustained any head trauma.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her lift her head. “Um, yeah. It’s Tuesday. Thanksgiving Day. Nineteen seventy-two.”

She was giving them shit. Unbelievable.

“Are you sure about that, ma’am?” Cash asked.

Her face cracked into a grin. “If you keep calling me ma’am, I’m going to keep giving you ridiculous answers. I told you, I’m fine.” Her plump lips drew my eyes again, daring me to look away. She gestured to me. “If you’re planning on unloading everything, I really appreciate it, but I’m afraid you’ve got your work cut out. The trunk is packed to the gills.”

“Yeah? You moving your office or something?”

Or are you moving in... with me?

“Or something,” she said, suddenly pressing the heels of her hands to her temples. “On second thought, mind if I lie back down? I just got a major head rush.”

I looked down at the boxes of books I’d just taken out of the car, the gears in my brain starting to churn. Science books. Moving boxes.

“Sorry, what did you say your last name is?” I asked, dread crawling over my skin.

“I didn’t. But it’s Finley.”

Of course it was. Shit.

I extended my hand. “Nice to meet you. Braden Michaels.”

Her eyes grew rounder, tiny sparkles igniting amid the gorgeous aqua. “Braden, as in—”

“Yeah. As in Finn’s friend. And your new roommate.”

She looked the way I felt—confused, wary, maybe a little bit annoyed? It could have been shock from the accident, or maybe it just embarrassed her to meet me under these circumstances.

But I was wary for a whole other set of reasons, none of which had anything to do with a car accident. A brainy woman who looked like that spelled trouble. And I’d be living with her for six long months.

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