Page 72 of Right in Front of You

I fanned myself lightly as he concentrated on his legs once again. The right one was easy; he could bend that one without any problems. It was the left one that always gave him trouble, and there were no scissors in sight.

As he bent forward, his torso stretched beyond its limits and he winced in pain. A sudden urge to help him pushed me slightly forward, but I stopped. We’d already been there before. He’d refuse my assistance. I watched him twist and turn, my smile slowly creeping at the corners of my mouth, patiently waiting for another curse word to come flying.

“I’m a fucking joke!” he screamed, wiping off my amusement.

“Carter, let me help you, please.” I warily stepped closer.

“Do I look like I need help?”

“Yes, you do,” I laughed.

“Fuck! How long is this going to last? I don’t want to be a fucking cripple all my life.”

“Healing takes time. You’ve been doing great, but you need to let me do something for you for a change. You need to learn to accept help to progress.”

“I can do things on my own.”

Which was true, for the most part: he helped with the groceries, cooking, and cleaning, as much as his body let him. In fact, I thought he pushed himself too far. It took him longer when rolling around in the wheelchair, but Carter was determined, and I knew that he wouldn’t give up. But enough was enough.

“Carter Jacob Clark, I’ve had it with you. You will shut up and let me take these fucking pants off you, or help me God once I’m legally a doctor, I will sedate you and dress you in a pink tutu.”

He froze, blinking with his perfectly framed light brown eyes as if he’d just seen me for the first time in his life, then slowly let go of the fabric. Half of it swooshed to the floor. We kept our gazes connected as I stepped closer. I knelt on the carpet in front of him and took a hold of his bare calf, extending it forward to straighten his leg, trying not to think how much I enjoyed the touch of his warm skin. The feel of the hairs on his leg under my fingers with the flex of his muscle, were new to me and exhilarating.

I dragged the remainder of his pants down his leg, following the exposed thigh, knee, and shin, somewhat avoiding the touch of his skin on my fingers, yet at the same time aching to keep the contact longer. I was afraid to look up into his eyes to see whether he could feel the connection I thought was there, if he could sense the turmoil inside of me and feel the need that was growing each time I came close to this man.

“Can you stand up?” I whispered.

He took hold of the side of the couch, braced himself, and lifted his body to a full standing position. Having seen him mostly in the wheelchair for the past two weeks, I’d forgotten how tall he was. The crutches didn’t do him justice when he hunched over, either.

I pulled the left pant leg slowly down his thighs, getting a good view of his boxer-briefs and everything they held, finding that my concentration was waning and my breasts were swelling. As I reached the bottom, I wished I were actually dressing him. That way I could feel my fingers trace along his skin around the line of his pants, just beyond his navel where that subtle sprinkle of hair decorated him. I’d grasp the zipper, and in one swift swipe, I’d fasten the swelled tightness in its place. Then he’d ask me to remove the pants. A yearning was brewing deep inside me, one I had never felt before. And it scared me. Actually, it petrified me. I never thought that I’d want a man as much as I wanted Carter — ever.

I stood up too fast, and lightheaded, lost my balance and braced myself against him.

“Oh, my…”

We fell onto the couch. Actually, Carter fell on top of the couch and pulled me right along with him, wincing in pain.

“I’m so sorry!” I struggled to get up, but he was holding me so tight, I could barely move. First my fingers dug into his stomach as I tried to push myself off him, then my elbow jutted underneath his right rib. He squirmed, shifting with discomfort.

“Don’t move,” he whispered. “Please for the love of my healing body, just. Don’t. Move.”

I froze. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m good. Just stay here with me.” His voice was soothing. Its warmth spread through me like the perfect summer’s wind. I gently slid onto his right side, placing my head and my hand over his chest, listening to the beating of his heart, secretly wondering what this meant.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” I said, after he let out a long breath. Those words meant so much more than he could have imagined. I wished I could turn back the clock and not go with Father into that forest. I wished I could have been strong enough to stand up for myself. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m tired and I lost my balance.”

“No worries, Molly. You didn’t do anything wrong. And if we’re being honest, I didn’t want to let you go.”

Oh!

“I’m sorry about the fall,” I said.

“Stop apologizing. I’m not sorry at all, but I would have been if you hadn’t landed in my arms.”

Swoon.

“Molly, if I don’t get another chance to say it, I want you to know that I had a nice evening tonight, despite the interruption. It was a wonderful surprise. Thank you.”

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