Page 16 of Being Bold
She couldn’t help the arch look as she told him, “It’s the ‘twenty-four-hour clock.’ More than just the military uses it.”
When his expression turned apologetic, she internally sighed, feeling bad for being bitchy when he’d helped her. Backpedaling, she explained, “My dad was in the Navy. He taught me.”
A ghost of a smile flitted across Bo’s stern features as if they’d forgotten how to form that expression. It was so brief she nearly missed it.
Oh, wow.
When he smiled, Bo was rather attractive.
“I was Navy.”
His umber hair matched his eyes, except the closer she looked, she noticed gold striations running through the brown of his irises and streaks of red in the short strands atop his head. His nose was strong and broad with a slight curve. He’d likely broken it before. His mouth . . . the rusty-colored beard accented the fullness of his lips.
Actually,reallyattractive.
Selene let her gaze travel from the rugged features of his face down the corded muscles of his neck, shoulders, and geez . . . the henley he wore highlighted every contour. And this man had a lot of them. She was used to seeing beefy gym rats in SoCal, but something told her Bo’s body hadn’t been hardened in a gym.
Wonder what he looks like without the clothes.
A smirk crossed her lips. It seemed only fair since he’d seen her without hers.
Before she could do something stupid like ask him to strip, her stomach growled loud enough to shake the cabin. Feeling heat fill her cheeks, she placed a hand over her middle and reverted to her default politeness. “Can I trouble you for something to eat?”
Instead of answering, he grunted and rose to his feet, making her wonder if that washisdefault response. When her stomach protested again, she stood up. Her body wobbled, and she gasped, involuntarily plopping back onto the couch. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, trying to stay upright instead of pitching to the floor. She was light-headed. From her head injuryor lack of food, she wasn’t sure. How long had it been since she’d eaten?
Lunch yesterday.
No wonder her stomach had sounded like a freight train. She hadn’t had any food in over twenty-four hours.
“Are you all right?”
She lifted her head and focused on Bo. He’d knelt beside her, and one of his hands extended toward her as if he weren’t sure he should touch her.
“Sorry. I felt light-headed.”
He rasped, “Let me help you, then.”
She nodded, and he slipped his arms around her, lifting her to her feet while she tried not to think about how good it felt to have his hands steadying her.
When she was standing, he asked, “Okay?”
“Yes,” she managed to get out as the breath caught in her lungs from his nearness.
He backed away, watching her to ensure she didn’t fall, probably. Determined not to, she took a step and then another until she was sure of her feet.
With a curt nod, he turned away. Blowing out a breath, she stuffed her hands in the pocket of the navy hoodie and followed Bo to the kitchen. He rummaged through cabinets, muttering something she couldn’t make out.
A small table with two chairs graced one side, and she hovered by it, asking, “Can I help?”
He spun around, looking surprised to find her there, his eyes widening slightly. “No. Got it.”
His gruff response threw her off guard. “Oh, okay.”
Was he mad that he had to feed her? She knew she was imposing, but what choice did she have?
Frowning at his back, she slid into a chair. Her life was a mess, but at least she still had her life.
What am I supposed to do now?
