Page 39 of Lovingly Restored

I pace back and forth, wishing my room was bigger, so I could burn off this nervous energy.

Isaac shakes his head. “Stop apologising.” He reaches out to intertwine his hands in mine when I cross in front of him. a pass. I take hold of him and finally stop.

“If you hadn’t had to come pick me up because I was being irresponsible, this might not have happened.”

“You know that’s not true. Both that it’s irresponsible for you to have fun with a friend and that you could have prevented this by being here.”

He rubs his thumbs over my trembling hands, the sensation grounding me. Inhaling deeply, a sense of calm returns.

“You told me that the hallucinations and anxiety are hard to manage and will not get better. Chris was about to call me. We were only ten minutes away.”

I rub my eyes with my palms, smudging my makeup. After the night I’ve had, I probably resemble a rabid racoon.

“Can you sit now so I can check your feet?” Isaac’s voice is strained.

“My feet?”

I glance down to see a faint trail of blood drying on the floor where I’ve been pacing.

“I-I didn’t even notice. What kind of nurse am I?”

“The kind who had a bit of a fright and who can’t have everything under control. Sit.” He points at the bed.

I scoff at his comment but sink onto the bed anyway, the discomfort in the soles of my feet increasing by the second now that I’m aware of them. I should have taken my chances running in the heels.

“Here,” he pats his lap, “put your feet on my legs.”

The first aid kit I keep in the kitchen lays open next to him. When did he even grab that? Lifting my feet up, I gingerly place them across his lap, tugging at the hemline of my skirt.

“Don’t peek up my dress, Lauri.”

He rolls his eyes at me. “Believe it or not, administering first aid is not one of my kinks.”

“Feet might be.”

“They aren’t,” he says, smirking and shaking his head as he looks at the damage. “There’s only one deep laceration. I’ll disinfect it.”

“Laceration? Okay, Nurse Isaac. Maybe I’m not needed around here.”

“Please. I have Occupational First Aid Level 3. I’ve seen some pretty gruesome injuries on job sites.”

I wince at the thought of all those sharp, heavy things in the workshop. Has he ever been seriously injured at work? I bite my lip against the sting, trying to focus on Isaac’s warm and spicy smell instead of the acerbic scent of the disinfectant. He’s being so gentle, cradling my foot with those big hands. Somehow, his care is more intimate than our kiss in the truck.

“That should do it.” He rubs my shin in a comforting motion.

The adrenaline is gone, Isaac’s steadfast reassurance replacing it. Hip to hip, both feet on the floor like a high school couple with strict boundaries for having “friends” in our room, we sit at the foot of my bed. The door is closed, though, so I guess we’re being rebellious.

“I think we should call it a day. You’ve been up for a long time.”

I nod, not bothering to point out that he got up even earlier than me. “Um, I need…”

How do I ask this without sounding like I’m trying to pick up where we left off? As sexy as that would be, we both need rest.

Curiosity dances in his eyes. “What?”

“I need you to unzip my dress. Anna did it up for me earlier.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

His deep exhale borders on a moan. I rise from the bed, cautiously putting weight on my feet; the cushion of the bandages helps.

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