Page 14 of A Brambleberry Summer

He left the shed again. She took a moment to draw a steadying breath, then turned to follow him. As she reached to turn the light off, her hand caught on something sharp inside.

Pain sliced through her and she couldn’t help her gasp.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Only a scratch. I am fine.”

In another lightning flash, she saw he looked doubtful but he didn’t argue with her.

He muscled the door shut, then wedged the concrete block in front of it.

“That should do it, barring a hurricane tonight.” He raised his voice to be heard over the storm.

“Let us hope we do not have a hurricane. I had enough of those when I was a girl.”

He gave her an interested look but didn’t ask questions. Another lightning bolt lit up the sky, followed by the loudest thunder yet, a rumble that seemed to shake the little garden shed.

“That one was too close.” Wyatt frowned. “We need to get to shelter. We’re too exposed here.”

He led the way to the closest entry to the house, the door to his sunroom.

This was one of her favorite parts about Brambleberry House. If she was ever tempted to leave her third-floor sanctuary, it would be to move to this floor so that she could have the sunroom, with the glorious view of the ocean.

Rosa could spend all day every day here. She would probably put in a bed so she could sleep here on long summer nights with the sound of the sea and the breeze blowing through.

She liked the idea of it but the reality probably would not be as appealing. She would feel too exposed here. Anyone could walk up from the beach, climb over the beach gate and break a window to get in.

She would have no defenses.

That was the reason she had not given this apartment to Jen, though both had come vacant at the same time and this apartment was larger. Jen needed to feel safe, above all else.

Security wasn’t an issue for Wyatt. Something told Rosa the man could take care of himself in all situations.

“Now,” he said when they were inside, “let’s take a look at your hand.”

Rosa tensed, suddenly aware of how cozy this sunroom was in the middle of a storm.

She should not have come in here with him. Not when she was fighting this unwanted attraction.

“It is fine. I only need to put a bandage on it. I can take care of it upstairs.”

Wyatt frowned. “It’s your right hand, which is always harder to bandage for someone who is right-handed. Let me take a look.”

How had he noticed she was right-handed? Something told her Wyatt was a man who did not miss much.

He flipped on the light inside the sunroom and held out his hand. Unless she wanted to run through the apartment and up two flights of stairs in her awkward rain boots, she had no choice but to show him the wound.

The cut on her palm was about two inches long, shallow but bloody.

Rosa felt her knees go weak at the sight of those streaks of red. To her great embarrassment, the sight of blood always left her feeling as if she would faint.

Her mother used to be a healer of sorts and people would come to their small house for care. Maria Elena had even delivered a few babies.

Rosa had never liked seeing blood or having to help her mother clean it up. It was a weakness she despised in herself, but one she couldn’t seem to help.

“Sit down and I’ll go grab my first-aid kit. Normally, I keep one in the kitchen but it burned up in the fire. Lucky for you, I’ve got another one out in my vehicle.”

Was she lucky? Rosa would have liked to argue but she was trying too hard not to look at the blood dripping off her hand.

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