Page 6 of Cherished By the Fearless Mountain Man

“Right.”He’s still grinning.“Because you’re usually so concerned about your appearance.”

Callie stands up, hands on her hips, and shoots our brother a look that could melt steel.“Okay, enough, Asher.Stop the teasing.”She turns to me.“Brock, do you want help getting cleaned up or not?”

I hate this.Hate needing help with something as basic as taking a shower.But the thought of Willa walking in here and seeing me like this makes my stomach turn.

“Yeah,” I mutter.“I could use some help.Thanks.”

“Good.Now, Archer can find you some clean clothes while I help with the shower.That way, he doesn’t have to chance seeing your bare ass.”

Archer laughs as he heads over to my bedroom closet to pick out some clothes.Callie helps me get off the couch.I wince every time I so much as move a muscle.Fuck.I wish I could stay on the couch, but I need to get cleaned up.Thankfully, Callie doesn’t make a big fuss.She pulls a stool into the shower for me to sit on, turns on the faucet, and leaves me alone while I wash myself.These bandages are supposed to be waterproof, so at least I don’t have to worry about that.

Twenty minutes later, I’m back on the couch, smelling as fresh as the mountains do on a spring morning.Callie and Archer stock up my fridge with food, and leave right before Willa’s supposed to arrive.

For the past few days, she’s all I’ve been able to think about, which is weird, because I’ve never been obsessed with a woman before.Maybe it’s the result of being cooped up in my cabin all day.Thinking of her keeps me busy.It doesn’t have to mean anything.At least, that’s what I tell myself.Deep down, I know that’s not it.Truth is, every time Willa’s near, my heart almost beats out of my chest.It’s gotten so bad that I’m afraid I’m developing a cardiological problem on top of a nasty laceration.

At exactly ten o’clock, I hear her car pull up the gravel drive.My heart does that stupid racing thing again every time she arrives.I run a hand through my damp hair and try to look casual, like I haven’t been waiting for her to show up.

“Hello, it’s Willa,” she calls through the door, same as always.

“Come in,” I call back, and this time my voice doesn’t sound like I gargled with gravel.

She steps inside, and I notice she’s carrying a white bakery box along with her usual medical bag.She looks… Fuck, she looks beautiful.Her hair’s pulled back in a ponytail, and she’s wearing scrubs that show off her soft curves in all the right ways.

“You look good today,” she says, giving me an appraising look.

I grin.“I took a shower.”

“That always helps,” she says with a laugh.“I brought you cupcakes from that little bakery, Sweet Peak Retreat.”

I stare at her.“You brought me cupcakes?”

She suddenly looks flustered.“Is that weird?I thought—”

“No,” I say quickly.“It’s not weird at all.It’s nice.Thank you.”

She beams at me, and I have to look away before I do something stupid like tell her how pretty she is when she smiles.

“We can have one after I check your leg,” she says casually, like the word “we” doesn’t do things to my insides.

Willa sits on the edge of the couch, closer than usual.Then again, maybe I’m imagining things.It’s not like I have a ruler to know exactly how close she sits to me every day.I let out a small grunt.When the hell did I become the kind of guy who overthinks where a woman sits?

“How’s the pain today?”she asks as she opens her medical bag.

“Better.Still hurts, but not like the first few days.”

“Good.That’s what we want to hear.”She pulls on her gloves.“Any swelling?Increased redness?”

“Not that I’ve noticed.”

I can’t exactly tell her about the swelling that’s happening in… other parts of my body, can I?

She carefully peels back the bandage.Her fingers brush my skin, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from reacting in completely inappropriate ways.

“This looks good, Brock,” she says, leaning closer to examine the wound.“The stitches are holding well, and the redness is going down.”

She’s so close that I can count the freckles across her nose.And when she concentrates, she gets this little wrinkle between her eyebrows that I find ridiculously endearing, like now.

“You’re healing faster than I expected,” she continues, cleaning around the wound with gentle, practiced movements.“You must be taking my advice about staying off it.That’s good.”

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