Page 53 of Broken King

And I’m so short at just over five and a half feet compared to Ronan’s six foot four height.

Even as I’m eager to reach the carriage house to see why he chose that spot for our lunch together, I walk slowly because my feet are already hurting less than halfway there. He appears on the front porch and waits for me, but I make one wrong step on a rock, and a second later, I tumble to the ground.

Embarrassment fills me as Ronan rushes up the road, and he reaches me just as I get back up on my feet. I look down and see a tiny trickle of blood near my right ankle courtesy of that same rock cutting me.

“Are you okay?”

I brush myself off and try to pretend that I’m not mortified that I just tripped over a tiny rock. “I’m fine. Just a little busted up. Should we go back up to the house, or are there Band-Aids down at the carriage house?”

Ronan thinks for a moment and then places his left hand on my lower back to guide me. “I don’t know, so let’s go up to the house to get one, and then we’ll head back down the carriage house for lunch. I had Eleanor make a meal I think you’re going to love.”

The way he beams when he says that makes me wish I hadn’t fallen like an idiot so I could see what this lunch she made is right now. He and I walk up to the house, and when we walk in, Ava and Eleanor turn to look at us with nothing but worry on their faces.

I quickly move to explain why we’re there. Pointing at my shin, I sheepishly say, “I fell, and we weren’t sure there were any Band-Aids down at the other house, so we’re here to steal one.”

Eleanor hurries to where I stand, takes a brief look for a second at my leg like she wants to judge the size bandage I need, and rushes out of the kitchen. “Don’t move! I’ll be right back.”

Ava too studies the cut that’s dripping blood down over my ankle. “Let me guess. You stepped in the grass on the side of the road. I’ve always hated how it dips just enough to make you fall. I can’t tell you how many times I went feet over head because of that.”

I look at Ronan and see his attention is fixed on my very minor injury. “Actually, I stepped on a rock. Leave it to me. I should have worn flip flops. At least in those, I know I can walk right.”

My attempt at being self-effacing succeeds, and Ava directs our attention at her feet in black flip flops. “I wear them as long as I can during the year, and then when my feet get too cold, I move to slippers. I can’t wear heels anymore.”

Eleanor returns with the Band-Aid and seems to be intent on putting it on me, which only serves to make me feel like a bigger fool. She rips the paper off, but Ronan takes it from her and pulls one of the chairs out from the table for me.

“Here, let me get that.”

I sit and watch in awe as he manipulates the plastic coverings on each end by using his teeth. Then he crouches down and sweetly lifts my leg to place the bandage on my skin. When he puts the first half of it on, I press my finger to it so he can easily affix the second half.

Looking up at me when he finishes, he smiles. “All better now? Ready for lunch?”

Ava and Eleanor watch with utter pride at the scene in front of them, and I stand, eager to get down to the carriage house. “I’m ready!”

We don’t make it more than a couple steps toward the door before Sabrina appears from the hallway. “What’s all the excitement?” she asks with a chuckle.

Eleanor answers before Ava can, and in a voice full of joy, she says, “Kate tripped outside and got cut, so she and Ronan came in for a Band-Aid, which he put on her.”

She sounds like a proud mama bragging about a child doing something for the first time, and although I sense Ronan feels uncomfortable with her comment, I think it’s charming. Sabrina, however, doesn’t seem to care much for what the housekeeper has to say and ignores her in favor of paying attention to Ronan.

“You must be better at that whole Band-Aid thing than you were the other day,” she says to him, smiling like it’s a private joke between the two of them.

Turning to the three of us who don’t understand the reference, she explains, “Ronan cut himself on glass the other day, so I had to help him with the Band-Aid. Then I shaved all that terrible beard off so he looks like he does today.”

Every fiber of my being senses red flags with this woman. Why did she bring up that story other than to take credit for helping him when he couldn’t do something himself?

Ronan doesn’t say anything and quickly escorts me out of the kitchen toward the door. “Thanks, Eleanor. Time for us to head down to lunch.”

I notice Sabrina’s expression falls when she hears we’re leaving to have our meal in private somewhere else and not here in the kitchen. What is this person’s interest in where Ronan and I spend our time together?

Even as I wonder that as we walk outside, I suspect I know the answer. She likes him. And to her, I’m an inconvenience she’d rather would disappear, the sooner the better.

Once we’re alone and walking down to the carriage house, I say, “That was really nice of her to help you with shaving.”

Jealousy hangs off each word, and even though I can’t control how I feel, I do hope he can’t hear it. I don’t want to be petty about this Sabrina thing. It’s just that she seems to be incredibly interested in the man I care for, and I need to know how he feels about her before I let myself get my hopes up about us.

He shrugs, like it meant next to nothing for her to do that for him, and says, “It was. I would have gotten the hang of it after a while. It’s just a matter of getting used to working with only my left hand. To be honest, I could have shaved on my own. I needed her help with the scissors to trim my beard first, though.”

Everything in the way he says that tells me he doesn’t think anything of her. Relieved, I sigh and say, “Well, you look great.”

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