Page 21 of Jessica and the Jarhead
She didn’t even seem to register the cold until I said something. Then again, she is a hot sleeper. Maybe she didn’t. We were going to need that heat tonight; I was in no shape to get another fire started.
I tried moving my leg and winced at the tug of the stitches, but it was bearable and I could make it to the bedroom just fine.
“Of course.” She reached for me when she stood and I leaned on her. I didn’t tell her I could probably walk on my own. Her reaching for me so readily was too good to pass up.
When we got to the bed, she pulled back the covers and tucked me in before going to the closet and getting the spare blankets. “Just in case,” she said as she laid them across the end of the bed.
She stood there and seemed to weigh her options.
“Just get into bed,” I said before she could make some excuse to run away again. She had been softening to me before, but I wasn’t sure what she was thinking now.
“Ok,” she said softly. “I’m just going to go change.” She turned around and left the room. I prayed she would come back.
It took longer than I would have thought for Jess to come back. When she finally did, I had to bite back a groan. She wore the smallest pair of shorts I’d ever seen. They hugged her hips and emphasized their curve. She seemed determined to torture me.
“Angel, you’re gonna kill me,” I said as she crawled into bed. There was just enough light to see her blush.
“It’s all I had. I didn’t expect to be here for long.” She toyed with the edges of her shorts and I couldn’t drag my eyes away from her finger.
“And the tiny shorts were for what? A spa day after?” I asked as I turned to her, careful of my leg, and pulled her into my arms.
She shrugged. “Just in case, I guess.” She didn’t elaborate further and left the rest up to my very dirty imagination. Whatever the reason she thought to bring those tiny shorts to the cold, snowy Rocky Mountains, I was grateful for it.
“Thank you,” I said when we settled into bed together. She was facing me and, to my utter surprise and delight, she didn’t protest my arms around her.
“For what?” She sounded genuinely confused.
“For taking care of me.” I ran my hands up and down her back in soothing circles, unable to stop myself from touching every part of her I could reach.
“Oh, what else was I going to do? Let you sort it out for yourself?” She yawned and stretched in a way that rubbed her front against mine, but she sounded so sleepy that I willed away the erection that was trying to form.
“I could have, probably, but I much prefer a pretty nurse.”
She scoffed at that. I couldn’t tell if she thought I couldn’t take care of myself or if she thought she wasn’t pretty.
Her breathing evened out, and she fell asleep quickly. I just laid there, unable to sleep, and watched her. Part of me still couldn’t believe she was here, so close to me, letting me hold her.
I didn’t know how long I laid in bed with Jess, but when I finally dreamed, it was of forever with her in my arms.
“Let me look at your leg,” Jess said the next day. I could get up and move around, but she insisted on continuing her role as my nurse.
“It’s fine,” I said. I was a little concerned with just how much she worried about me. “Let’s play a game.”
“Show me your leg first,” she responded with force in her voice. Her arms were akimbo on her hips and she was giving me a look that threatened more pain if I didn’t comply. My lips twitched, trying to form a grin.
I did as she demanded and let her fuss over my injuries. She checked each wound carefully and tutted occasionally as she turned my leg this way and that to get a good look at everything.
“The swelling is going down. I think that’s good. At least the infection seems to be gone.” She wrapped my injury in clean gauze before going to the kitchen to putter around in there.
“What’s wrong?” I didn’t want to play this game anymore. I didn’t want to beat around the bush or try to guess at her feelings. We had been doing well, and I was going to get us back to that point again.
“You could have died,” she said with her back to me. She stopped moving around, but leaned on the counter with her head down, like she couldn’t hold herself up anymore.
“It wasn’t that bad,” I protested. That was probably the wrong response. I have a whole day after my injury that I don’t remember, after all.
She turned with fury written on every line of her body.
“Not that bad!”
