Page 58 of Say the Words
Good did not begin to describe how she looked right now.Ediblewas more accurate.
“Okay.” A hesitant smile crept back on her face. “Do you have a plastic bag I can put these wet clothes in?”
It took me a minute to spin my brain in that direction, stuck on the sight of her wearing my clothes. “Under the kitchen sink.”
She went into the kitchen and rummaged around, leaving me dripping in the doorway like an uninvited dog. I’d been gawping at her yet again. I hung my wet hat on the rack by the door, trying to shut up every voice inside me that said this was the perfect time to go for broke and lay it all out on the line with her, tell her the whole truth.
Those voices were idiots.
She came back into the living room, her muddy clothes safe in a plastic bag she set by the front door.
“Here,” she said, holding out the towel she’d been using on her hair. “You should dry off.”
Dry off, kiss her senseless, one or the other.
I took the towel and passed it over my face, but that was a mistake. It carried a whiff of her floral shampoo now, and I had to stop myself from pressing it to my nose to breathe it in.
“I’ll get you some dry clothes.” She darted back upstairs.
“You don’t have to,” I sighed out, knowing she would anyway.
I ran the towel over my head, scraping my fingers through my hair, trying to get a hold on this overpowering want. Before I could, June reappeared beside me with a stack of fresh clothes. Although she’d chosen a T-shirt for herself, she’d brought me a button-down. She noticed everything—she had to know I couldn’t pull shirts over my head. Something about that small sign of her care and concern threatened to break me apart.
“Here’s a shirt, jeans, and um…” She bit her bottom lip, thrusting the clothes out at me. “Briefs.”
Great. Just great. She had rifled through my underwear drawer. That was one way to shut down all my heated thoughts.
I took the clothes without a word and shut myself up in the downstairs bathroom. Biting back groans as I peeled off wet clothes, I couldn’t ignore the ache and pull in my chest. After all that running around out in the pastures, I took my time with the painful production so I wouldn’t aggravate my injury any worse than I already had. Maneuvering around in the half bath made me feel huge and ungainly, like a bear in a tea shop. Lately, the stairs to my bedroom were too much to manage, and I did all this right out in the living room, but there were only so many indignities June needed to witness.
I pulled my shirt off and paused to look at the bruise that bloomed across the center of my chest. It had gone green at the edges of the black and purple whorl, like the sickly iris of a zombie eye. I lightly ran fingers over the broken parts of me: muscles, bones, heart. Two would mend up pretty well in time. The third…I just didn’t know anymore.
I finished getting dressed but lingered in the bathroom. Yes, I was hiding out, but June was everywhere now: her scent in the air, her body in my clothes, her hands in mybriefs drawer. I just needed a minute to think. That I was thinking aboutherdidn’t help anything.
When I finally left the bathroom, all the lights were on and the house smelled of tomatoes and garlic. Two plates and water glasses sat on the table in anticipation of dinner. June busied herself in the kitchen, putting clean dishes away.
“How long was I in there?” I asked, taking it all in.
“I don’t know about you, but after that, I’m starved.” She grabbed something off the counter and brought it to me. “Here. For your chest.”
An ice pack. Lord, but she was a good woman. “I don’t pay you enough.”
I pressed the pack against the fire in my ribs while easing onto a dining chair.
She shot me a grin. “You can’t afford me.”
Wasn’t that the truth.
“Howiswork going? You’re still with that online outfit.” That I thought she would have been out of there by now could go unsaid. Nobody liked to hear they weren’t doing as well as someone else expected, I knew better than anyone.
She nodded, checking on the lasagna in the oven. “It’s steady.”
I caught her flat tone, the way she barely acknowledged the question. “How is it really?”
She hesitated. “It’s…solitary. Everything’s done through emails, so I never interact with clients face to face. I’ve never even met my boss. I just log in, do the work, log out. It’s a good job, but…”
“It could be better,” I finished. “I thought you were going to start a company with your friend. Kim?”
She had talked about it enough last year, I’d expected it to have happened before now.
