Page 62 of Right in Front of You

“Carter, don’t even joke about this. Let me see your wound.” I knelt beside him, removed the surgical scissors off the sink counter, and cut through the bandage. He wiggled a little when my fingertips touched his skin. The torso area had been the only one he hadn’t shown me yet.

Seeing the nice skin color, I breathed with relief.

“See? I’m all healthy.”

“You almost gave me a heart attack. You need to have this cleaned.”

He flinched when my finger lightly touched the more sensitive area.

“Sorry.” I whispered.

“It’s okay. It still hurts when I touch it as well. I accidentally forgot about the wound while washing and the area itched a lot. I scraped my fingers over the scabs. It hurt like a bitch.”

For a man who fought fires, braved tornadoes, and wasn’t afraid of much, it must have taken a lot for Carter to admit pain.

“Oh, Carter. Itching is good. It means it’s healing; but why didn’t you say something? I could have helped.”

“In the shower?”

“Yes, I’m a professional.”

“So if I were naked in the shower, you would have just bathed me? Now that I say it out loud, the idea sounds pretty good. Would you have washed my entire body, Molly?”

His voice was so low and enticing that shivers ran up and down my arms. Feeling my vocal cords constrict, I swallowed through my throat, which felt like a straw, and just nodded. It would take all my willpower to remain professional, but I wasn’t one to reject a challenge. What woman would, with a man like Carter Clark?

“Liar. I can see it in your eyes, Molly. You would have been turned on.” His coy grin of satisfaction stretched wide.

“Well, I can turn off the turn on.” I felt my cheeks heat. Did that even make sense? “Cover yourself and let me help you get up.” I reached for his right, unbandaged arm. He braced himself against me, the closeness of his body affecting mine way over any comfortable limits. My heart palpitated, and I tried to calm it with a steadier breath, but it was nearly impossible. As I took him under his elbow, he stepped over the tub, letting the small towel fall from underneath. Instead of covering himself with the bath towel, he let it drop to the floor at the foot of the tub. I looked straight ahead, desperately trying to concentrate on the task at hand: washing Carter’s wound. Though, the thought of touching him in any way made my mind spin.

He finally sat down in the tub as I kept my gaze fixed on the wall tiles. I turned on the water, checked the temperature, and let it run.

“Bubbles?” I asked. Maybe they’d cover him a little. Perhaps if there was a visual break between us, even if it was only foam, I could actually focus.

“Sure.”

I poured in the liquid and waited with impatience until the water forced clouds of white suds upward.

“Are you more comfortable now?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Why would I be uncomfortable?”

“Come on, Molly. Don’t tell me that having me naked in your bathroom is not affecting you, because it sure as hell is affecting me.”

It is?

“It’s taking everything I have not to pull you inside here. Do I have to be half-dead and frozen for you to join me in a tub?”

My memories of how good it felt to be in a bathtub with Carter weaved through me like a poisonous snake, filling my mind with hormonal venom that flushed my body with long-denied needs. I wondered what it would feel like to sit against him in that tub again, but this time not to save his life, but to enjoy him.

“Carter, we’re friends. Good friends. And I don’t want to cross that boundary.” To prove to him just how okay I was with helping him bathe, I reached for the sponge, squeezed some soap, and gently pressed it to his shoulder, scrubbing up and down his right arm. It didn’t seem to deter his questioning at all.

“Ever?”

“I… I don’t know. I’m not sure. It’s… my life’s good now. I wouldn’t want to complicate things and you’re recovering.” I didn’t want to tell him that I was afraid that he still loved Daisy. Most of all, I didn’t want to tell him how afraid I was to get closer, not only to him, but to any man. And then all my other secrets… well, I’d stashed them away, but if I were in a relationship with Carter, they were sure to come up, and I didn’t want them to. I moved to the side and pulled the sponge over his back. He let out a soft moan, which put a smile on my face.

“So, tell me all about your life. I want to know all the details. I want to know if you like your coffee black or with milk. Do you prefer your eggs scrambled or boiled? I want to know which side of the bed you like to sleep on and whether you like to cuddle,” he asked.

I pulled back, looking at him in awe. I never realized that Carter was this interested in my life. This bath was beginning to feel more like a date than a simple wash. And the intimate questions, well, I was pretty sure that those were uncommon between friends.

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