Page 27 of Brewbies
Ethan was smart enough not to mention he already had.
She’d picked a great parting shot, and would have looked amazing stomping off into the night…
Had she not been hindered by a door latch.
“Child locks,” was all he said by way of apology. Frigid claws wrapped around his wrist. “You let me out of this car, Sheriff Townsend, or so help me I’ll slap you with a lawsuit faster than you can say—”
“Is that blood?”
She blinked, her expression frozen between bewildered and alarmed until she looked at where he was studying the cuff of his shirt.
Peeling her hand away, she stared at the drying dark red stains on her hand that’d transferred with some of the mud.
“I thought you said you weren’t hurt,” he accused, undoing her seatbelt.
“I didn’t think I…” She paused for a mental scan of her person and then drew her knee up to find a few layers of dermis was missing in a gnarly case of road rash. “Oh, I must have put my hand on it. I didn’t even know that happened. You know how it is when you fall…it’s like…everything vaguely hurts but also doesn’t until the adrenaline wears off.”
“Let me get you something for that,” he said.
“No, don’t bother, I have stuff insi—”
He was already out and shutting the car door on her arguments. He set her bike parts against a tree and grabbed a first-aid kit from the back. He did his best not to enjoy how much racket she made trying and failing to open the door.
He lifted the latch but put out an arm when she made to get out of the car. “Look. I could lose my job if I don’t assess your injuries and something awful ends up happening to you tonight.”
“Oh please, it’s road rash. I’ll shower off and be fine.”
“You have waterproof flexible knee bandages in your trailer?” he challenged.
She didn’t answer him, but the flicker of her lashes did.
“Okay, then.” He squatted down as she swung her feet over the doorjamb and placed her knee at eye level.
Every hot, bendy, naked, thrusting, throbbing thing they’d done crowded into his brain and short-circuited his fine motor skills as he tried and failed eleventy times to separate the bandage wrapper from the bandage.
Once he’d managed, he wet a gauze with disinfectant and cupped the back of her knee.
Darby’s face contorted in pain, and Ethan felt a pang of guilt. He had been responsible for this, after all.
Gently, he began to clean the wound. His touch was soft but firm, and he took his time wiping away the dirt and gauging the depth of the cut. Once it was clear that the damage was very surface level, he blew on the wound lightly.
Her breath hitched and her entire leg erupted in goosebumps.
Ethan had never tried so hard in his life not to remember someone’s nipples. Never.
“Apparently the pandemic taught you nothing about how your breath just dis-disinfected my knee,” she grumbled.
She was silent as he pressed the stuff to her wound, and he didn’t dare look up until he’d applied the waterproof seal like a second skin.
“Boom. Dis-dis-disinfected.”
“Ninja Turtles?” she asked with a lifted brow.
He chuffed and shook his head, still pressing the edges of the bandage in place. “Fresh out of Peppa Pig and Wonder Woman.”
Finally satisfied with his work, he sat back on his haunches and looked up.
She met his gaze with an expression that seemed to reflect his own thoughts—equal parts attraction, fiercely regretted choices, and a concoction of emotions they hadn’t quite put names to yet.
