Page 23 of Never Been Gargoyled
Feeling her still watching and hopefully not judging, I moved to the next section of garden, feeling more confident. The machine jolted in my hands, but I held it firmly.
Dazy was watching me with what I hoped was approval. Maybe even admiration.
I wanted her to be impressed. I wanted her to think I was capable and helpful and?—
The string caught on something. The machine jerked hard to the right, nearly pulling me off balance. Wings spreading wide, I overcorrected, yanking the wacky thing back. The string started wrapping around my ankle in tight loops.
“Oh my.” Dazy rushed toward me. “Turn it off!”
I fumbled for the switch, but the string kept winding. Tighter and tighter around my leg. The machine was still running, the engine roaring, and I was trapped.
“The kill switch,” Dazy shouted. “Red button!”
I slapped the red button and the engine died. Blessed silence fell over the garden.
I stood there, wacky weeder dangling from my ankle by several feet of tangled string, feeling heat creep up my neck. So much for impressing my mate.
“Are you hurt?” Dazy dropped to her knees beside my leg, her hands hovering over the tangled mess.
“I'm fine.” My voice came out rough. “Just…got wrapped up.”
She snorted. Pressing her lips together, she was clearly trying not to laugh.
“Go ahead,” I said. “I can take it. It’s funny.”
“I'm not laughingatyou.” But her shoulders were shaking.
“You are.”
“Okay, maybe a little.” She grinned up at me. “But it's not mean laughing. It's…you're cute when you're flustered.”
Cute. She still thought I was cute, even when I was messing everything up? My heart fluttered in my chest, and gargoyles never fluttered.
“I don't get flustered,” I grumbled.
“Right.” She was definitely laughing now, and hells, I was laughing with her. Couldn’t help it. “Hold still. Let me untangle this before you lose circulation in your foot.”
Her fingers worked at the string wrapped around my ankle. She was so close I could smell her shampoo. Something fruity and light. Her hair had escaped her braid again, and strands curled against her cheek.
I wanted to brush them back. I wanted to cup her face in my hands and?—
“There's a knot here that's really tight.” A frown bloomed on her face. “I might need to clip it.”
“Whatever you need to do.”
She glanced up at me. “You're being very patient for someone tied up by garden equipment.”
“I've been in worse situations.”
Her fingers paused on the string. “Like what?”
I thought about the years spent frozen in stone, aware but unable to move. Unable to speak. Watching the world continue around me while I remained trapped in my own body.
“Gargoyle things,” I said.
She studied my face before returning to work on the string. “You don't talk about yourself much.”
“There's not much to say.”
