Page 12 of Remembering You
He nodded. “The cabin. The lobby. The whole damn thing.”
Wow. “Isn’t it like dozens of cabins and a building with even more apartments?”
“Not to mention the artist studios and classrooms.” He grinned, pride radiating from that beaming smile. “How’s the ankle?” he asked, crossing around the couch, sitting beside me. He winced as he caught a glimpse of my wrapped, swollen ankle. “Uh-oh. That doesn’t look good.”
“It’s not so bad. Sprained. But … I can’t start my internship here until I get cleared for nursing duty. Probably not for two weeks.”
“That’s good though. You’ll take it easy. Get settled here in town.”
I sighed. “I’m pretty terrible at taking things easy. And I have bills I need to pay. I needed to start working somewhere, doing something immediately, even though my classes don’t start for another week.” I flopped back against the couch. “I need a secretary job or something in the meantime. But who the heck is going to hire me for only two weeks? And with a class schedule that will make my hours utterly unreliable?” I groaned.
Jim lifted one hand into the air like a schoolboy answering a question. “My secretary just left for ten days on her honeymoon. It’s just answering phones and drawing up estimates for projects, but I could use the extra help until she gets back. Even if you can only spare three days a week, I’ll take it.”
I immediately sat up straighter. “Really?” Butterflies flapped in my stomach and I gulped. That would mean I’d have to see Jim consistently for two weeks. I wasn’t sure it was the best idea, but then again, I didn’t have a ton of options right now. “You’re not just doing that as a favor to me, right?”
“Well… yes and no. I mean, I do need a secretary. But I am offering it to you because… you’re nice. And we both need the help. I was just going to put an ad in the paper, so you saved me the hassle. Especially with you being new to town, fresh from…” His gaze narrowed, before he said, “Florida?”
I scrunched my nose. “Florida?” I repeated. “Do I look like a Florida girl to you?”
His laugh faded, replaced with a swallow and his gaze fell to my lips briefly before he cleared his throat and looked away.
“Maybe…” I started to say and my voice trailed off. “Maybe you should talk to Sheila first. Make sure it’s okay with her?”
His brows dipped. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
I felt my cheeks go hot. What was wrong with me? He didn’t even see me that way, so of course his mind didn’t go where mine did. “I-I just meant because she’s my boss here, so I want to make sure it’s not a problem to work somewhere else for two weeks.”
He gave a thoughtful hm and his brows relaxed as he stood up and grabbed my crutches from the floor. “Here, let me take you back to your place. No reason to wait around for Sheila for another hour and a half.”
He held out his hands for me to take and with no effort at all, had me up and balanced on his shoulder. It took me a second to situate the crutches, but soon, I had myself propped up on them. “Thank you. For everything.”
He smiled in a way that was charming and handsome without even realizing it. “It’s no problem at all. Let me just go find Sheila and tell her I’ll be taking you home.”
“I’ll come,” I said, taking a step with the crutches and swinging my legs with each slow step.
“You sure?”
“Of course.”
He shrugged, his brows lifting in sync with his shoulders. “All right, but that’s going to take twice as long with your pace, turtle.”
I put a hand to my sternum, gasping in mock outrage. “Turtle? If I am going to be a slow animal, it’s a sloth. At least they’re cute.”
Jim held the door as I made my way through it and down the hall. He twisted his face, doubt curling across his expression. “Come on, turtles are adorable. Sloths are weird and they have giant toes.”
“Well, maybe I have giant toes, too.”
“I can see your toes. They’re petite. Like the rest of you.”
I looked down as I swung my foot. Oh, right. I forgot that I’d taken my boots and socks off in the exam. I wiggled my toes.
“And look,” he said, pointing. “They’re painted green. You know what else is green and petite?” He didn’t wait for me to answer before he responded with, “Turtles.”
“Not true,” I said, picking up my pace down the hall. “There are some species of turtles that are hundreds of pounds.”
Jim rolled his eyes. “Fine, Ms. Smarty Pants. You win. You can be a sloth… but to me, you’ll always be a turtle.”
Our eyes connected and I tried to ignore the little flutter behind my ribcage. My chest tightened like the air between us was being robbed from my lungs. His smile twitched and his eyes dipped to my mouth as I wet my lips, running my tongue across them. Jim cleared his throat, breaking his gaze from mine as we rounded the corner to the nurse’s station.
