Page 52 of King of Pain

Instead, I dropped her at the grocery store, which was probably stupid and dangerous, and went to buy her gifts without her.

The thing is…

I’m starting to understand that I might want Kate in my life way longer-term than I first intended.

The more sex we have, the more I want her.

She’s smart and beautiful and she looks at me with not just desire, but admiration. And not of my money.

Of me.

Like she sees a man who’s worth something. But the longer I go without explaining that I’m a Kincaid…

She knows my name is Kincaid.

I technically haven’t lied. Well, not until the part where I explained why we couldn’t leave.

But I’ve kept out a fair number of details and I’m trying to figure out how and when to tell her.

“What’d you get?” she asks as she turns the stove down. “Actually. Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.” Then she disappears into the bathroom. I make my way out to the truck, getting out the bags I have behind the seat.

When I start to go back inside, she’s coming down the porch with a bucket in hand. “Love?”

She blushes. “Toilet won’t flush. I just need a bucket of water. I’ll be right back.”

I’ve got four bags in my hand, but I skip past her, setting them down on the porch. “I can get that for you.”

She shakes her head, already making her way toward the river. “I’m not making you get my toilet water. I love this place, but man, it can be tough sometimes.”

I’m catching up to her as she reaches the top of the bank. “Sweetheart, let me help you up and down the bank at least.”

She turns to look at me as she steps, and I realize the mistake a second before it happens. She’s not watching where she’s going.

She steps into air, flails backwards and then disappears, sliding down the bank.

I surge forward, reaching the edge in time to watch her plunge into the water, bucket floating away.

I’m down the bank in two steps, diving in after her.

I slice through the fast-moving water, narrowly avoiding a rock and reach her in what’s likely a few seconds but feels like an eternity.

Wrapping my arms around her, I push up, breaking the surface of the water with her in my arms.

She gasps in a breath, her eyes wide with fear. “Luke.”

“I’m here, sweetheart.” I pull her close and kiss her forehead even as she winces away. “What’s wrong?”

I don’t wait for the answer as I kick toward the shore, quickly reaching shallow enough ground to walk out.

My boots are slippery with all the water, but I make it up the bank anyway.

“My hip,” she pushes out the words, pain making her voice high and tight.

“Fuck,” I growl, heading for the house. “How bad?”

“I don’t…” she sucks in another breath, “know.”

I pull her closer as gently as I can. “You’re going to be all right, love.”

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