Page 18 of Objection to Love

Muttering under her breath, she opened the door yet again and yanked her skirt out. She was struggling to dig through her purse with just one hand for the keys she shouldn’t have thrown in there, when the single step to her porch appeared out of nowhere.

And then she was falling.

Falling and forgetting to stick her hands out to catch herself.

Her chin hit first, sending a sharp, stinging jolt through her head. Then her body smashed into the porch, the vile step colliding with her chest and knocking the wind out of her.

And itburned. Her chin burned with pain and heat, and her lungs felt like they’d been caved in.

She tried to roll over. Tried to untangle her hands from beneath her and the strap of her purse. But before she was successful in either endeavor, someone was holding on to her shoulders and gently pulling her up.

Oh, great, and now she couldn’t see. She’d gone blind. She’d hit her eyes in the fall—

Wait, nope. Those were just tears. Loads of them, clouding her vision.

Then Garrett’s face was swimming in front of her, and she groaned. Maybe she should just throw herself back onto the step in order to avoid him seeing her like this.

“Are you alright?” His voice was laced with concern, and he ducked to look her in the eyes.

“Fine. I’m fine.” She wasn’t fine.

Something warm and hot dripped from her chin. She touched a hand to it, and it came back red. “Well, that doesn’t look great.” Her words were slurred, either from shock or the excessive amount of water flowing around her lips in the form of tears. Stupid tears.

“Yeah. It doesn’t. Let’s get you inside and clean that up.” Garrett gently turned her to the door and bent for something on the ground. Her keys. He leaned around her and quickly unlocked the door, then grasped her elbow and led her inside.

He was taking a great deal of liberties, but her chin still burned with fire, her head was swimming, and breathing wasn’t quite as easy as normal. Plus, his hand felt strangely comforting cupping the back of her elbow.

Em held a hand to her chin, wishing she could stop the flow of blood and tears. Maybe while she wished for the impossible, she should also wish to start the day over.

And a million dollars. That should never be left off any genie to-do list.

“I’m not clumsy, you know,” Em muttered while Garrett guided her toward the kitchen. “I was just distracted.”

“I know. Where do you keep your first aid stuff?”

“I don’t have any.”

“You don’t have—okay. Wait here.” He turned on his heel and let his long legs carry him out the door. He had very nice legs. Was that something girls noticed about guys? Em had never noticed something like that before.

They looked especially good in the basketball shorts he seemed to wear any time he was home. He had a lot of basketball shorts.

Within three minutes, he was back.

Em hadn’t moved yet. She’d apparently shaken her brain up with that hit—knocked out a few more screws. Or she’d been too fixated on his legs to realize his absence.

Nope, had to be the fall.

“Why don’t you sit on the counter or something?” Garrett suggested as he walked past her, opening a small white case and then tearing a paper towel off her dispenser by the sink.

“Yessir,” she said. But instead of hoisting her battered body onto the counter, she crossed around the peninsula and plopped onto a barstool.

Garrett slid his equipment across the counter, then came to stand in front of her. “This might hurt a bit, but that cut probably has a lot of dirt in it that we need to clean out.”

Em nodded numbly, wondering if the throbbing cut on her chin could possibly hurt worse than it did just now.

It could.

She gripped the edge of her stool while Garrett dabbed at her chin as softly as he could. At least, she hoped he was trying to be soft, because it really felt like he was repeatedly slapping her.

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