Page 48 of Interpreter

Those caramel-colored eyes go wide and blink one, two, three times. “Okay.”

Okay. Good. Because I did not just mean to go all Alpha Marine on her. I’m positive my voice doesn’t sound nearly as intimidating as it used to. The irrational fear that I sound weird speaking to her that way consumes me to the point I regret speaking at all. Fucking Dr. Parker started all this shit.

Milah loops her arms around my neck and buries her head against me. Skin to skin. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that with a woman. And right now, I feel everything. Her lips against my neck, her minty breath fanning out against the scruff of my cheek. Her breasts against my chest…. Please, God, don’t let me get a boner right here and now. An elementary school bathroom is not an appropriate place to be hard.

Cautiously, I step through the puddles of toilet water and make it to the sink. I ease her down and make sure she’s steady before I pull back.

“Thank you,” she says. Her hands shake the tiniest bit with her signs. I don’t answer her nor give her any of those rare smiles she talks about.

I breathe.

And then I drag my fingertips down her bare thigh past her knee to her ankle where the strap of the shoe is buckled against her warm flesh. My hands seem so big against the small and delicate buckle, but I’m able to unbuckle it quickly, slipping it past her champagne-painted toes.

Her lips mumble something, but all I catch iswetso I don’t ask her to repeat it.

“Your ankle isn’t swollen. That’s a good sign,” I tell her almost clinically. The struggle to not let my fingers explore the rest of her tanned legs is painful.

“They are used to it. This isn’t the first time I’ve fallen in heels.” She shrugs, her gaze ping-ponging between my lips and fingers.

“You don’t like flats or just a little bit of a heel?” I mean, if you fall occasionally or sprain an ankle, it seems a little senseless, but then again, I’m a dude.

“Never!” Her face is insulted. “My heels are my signature.”

Well, that’s a new one. “Your signature?”

She nods. “Gretchen has the perfect eyebrows. Felipe has the perfect ass. I have stilettos. Everyone needs a signature.”

I hum. Is my signature my deafness? My jaw clenches. It is. I know it is. I bet if you asked anyone in our small town, they would tell you, “Oh, yeah, Tim. The deaf guy.” Not a Marine. Not an interpreter. Not even Tim the homeless guy. Deafness has taken over my life. I was wrong earlier when I told Dr. Parker I used to be somebody. I am somebody, just a deaf somebody. A somebody that I hate.

“You know, like your signature is that terribly annoying personality of yours as well as being a piano genius.” My hands twitch around her ankle. I flash her a stern look.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she scolds, her lip poking out in the cutest way. She bats my hand away. “You know you play the piano beautifully.”

She’s purposely avoiding the elephant in the room here. “You know that’s not my signature.” Why am I pushing her on this? Maybe it’s because she’s never blown smoke up my ass or treated me differently, and here she is doing it now.

She swats at me with her shoe. “I just love how you tell me what I was going to say. Next thing you know, you’ll be telling me you can read my thoughts too. You can’t have everything, Tim. Leave some signatures for the rest of us untalented souls.” She pushes me with her foot, I’m guessing for me to move so she can get down.

“What are you doing?”

She wiggles, her bare thigh having a hard time moving to the edge of the sink. “I’m trying to get down so we can get this cleaned up. Doc had a heart attack a few months ago, and I don’t want to stress him out with this mess.”

“Doc?” I move closer so she can’t get down.

“The janitor. Move so I can help.”

I shoot her a look that says she’s being funny. “Stay. I’ll do it. I don’t need you breaking a leg.”

“Don’t tell me what to do” is her comeback.

I sigh, moving between her thighs, preventing her escape. “I’m not asking.”

“I’m not either.” She’s serious, and the pitiful little shove she gives me makes me smile.

“The sooner you agree, the faster I get this cleaned up for Doc. Otherwise, I’ll stand here until Doc gets here.”

Or I throw her over my shoulder and lock her in the classroom.

She eyes the lack of space between her legs and swallows. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

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