Page 43 of Down & Dirty

“These were vintage.”

“I’ll buy you three other pairs.”

She let out a laugh, a real one. And I let myself laugh with her. The cut on her knee was the worst, but after making sure no grease or oil was in it, I covered it up and taped the gauze in place.

“Good as new?” she asked when I stepped back, still watching me with uncertain eyes.

I let out a breath, my pulse finally slowing back down to a normal rhythm. “You tell me.” I’d gotten pissed, but Sky was the one actually injured. “Let me get you some ibuprofen.”

After she’d downed the pills, we sat in silence. I could feel her questions, riding just below the surface. But she seemed too apprehensive to ask them out loud.

“I take it you learned these skills after you decided duct tape wasn’t actually the best way to dress wounds?”

God she was good. “You remember that, huh?”

With another genuine smile she replied, “I guess I do.”

She pushed off the table, and I reached to steady her as she tested her knee. She held onto me as she swung it back and forth, a grimace on her face when she finally put weight on it.

“It would be ungentlemanly of me to leave you now and go kick both their asses, right?”

“No, not at all. Have at ‘em.”

“Do you know what happened?” Not that it mattered. Both those jerks had better watch themselves around me for a while.

Sky shook her head, taking a step toward the door. “I think Ronnie cut him off or something. Nothing that doesn’t happen every damn day.”

The ire in her voice was a sharp reminder of how tough she was. But also, that she shouldn’t have to be. Both those guys should have kept their shit together and been more careful.

With a forlorn look at her leg, she raised her eyes to me with a frown. “Guess I won’t be wearing sundresses on our dates again any time soon.”

“It’s no big deal.” Though, honestly that was a fucking loss.

“Please,” she huffed, opening the door. “I saw the way you were checking out my ass the other night as I cooked. You’re a leg guy. It’s okay to admit it.” She gave me a cheeky grin over her shoulder before she limped away.

I wasn’t a leg guy. Not normally. But I wasn’t going to tell her that. Because with her, I was aneverythingguy. And after what had just happened, I was starting to think that might be a problem.

CHAPTER 15

SKYLAR

The questions were rioting in my mind.Rioting. Aggressive, shouty, relentless. I wanted to know what the hell had happened back there, what had gotten Cory that upset. There’d been a desperation in his eyes that I’d never seen before, and whatever had been triggered in him, it felt big and deep and meaningful.

Which is why I felt like I had no right to ask. No right to question the inner workings of a man whom I despised not that long ago. Technically, we were in a business relationship, and whatever had driven that strong reaction was definitely not water-cooler conversation.

It’s just that lately we hadn’tactuallybeen staying inside the lines of our deal. The boundaries outlined in the contract, that I thought were going to keep this whole thing stale and boring, had been shoved into a drawer along with the paperwork. I’d been telling myself it was the nature of what we were trying to do, the way we had to act in public to sell this charade. But after today, it was getting a lot harder to buy that.

My own family hadn’t expressed such distress at my injuries over the years—and there had been plenty of opportunities riding motocross as a kid. As a mother myself, I understood now theurge to keep calm for the sake of your child, but still. I’d broken my arm in two places at school once and my mom had been late to pick me up from the nurse’s office. She’d shown so little urgency, I thought the nurse was going to call family services for a home visit.

Her lack of reaction compared with how enraged Cory had been, especially over what anyone could see were fairly minor scrapes, was all I could think of as I drove home. Sure, my getting hurt might have impacted our arrangement, but it seemed like more than that.

“Whoa, are you okay?” Elle asked, springing from the couch as I walked through the front door. “Jesus Sky, look at you.”

I tossed my bag onto the kitchen table. “I’m fine. Just failed to use my better judgment.” I should have let Kip kick Ronnie’s ass, or vice versa. It was ironic to me now, how clearly Ronnie wasn’t the only one with a protective streak that needed better moderating.

“What does that mean?”

“Where’s Micah?” I asked, looking behind her at the empty room.

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