Page 17 of Rugged Mountain Man
“I’ll try to remember that.”
“Good.”
Mika mustered up a small, brave smile. I smiled back. Then she blushed and glanced away, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“Would you mind if I…get a glass of water?”
“You don’t have to ask my permission,” I replied. “You have free reign of the house as long as you’re here.”
“Right,” Mika replied. “Can I get you a glass of water, too?”
“Sure, I’d like that.”
She beamed, eager to have a task to keep her occupied. That empty hollowness I’d been carrying around in my chest ached for a different reason to see Mika brighten up at the idea of making herself useful.
I heard her rummaging around in the kitchen, opening cabinets, turning on a faucet.
Then a crash and the shatter of glass made me sit up with concern.
“Mika?” I called.
Images of her flashed through my mind—slipping, falling, hurting herself. I scrambled out of the chair, hobbling into the kitchen.
Mika crouched on the floor, shards of glass scattered around her in a dangerous halo. With trembling fingers, she plucked up the shards, piling them into her palm.
She was scared to death.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t—I was just—I fumbled the glass when I was taking it out of the cupboard, and I tried to catch it—”
“Mika, sweetheart,” I cut in, curling my fingers around her arm. “It’s okay. There’s no harm done. Just…get away from that glass.”
“But it’s a mess. And you’re limping. You might get splinters in your feet…”
She trailed off as I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into my chest. I brushed my lips against her temple with a butterfly kiss.
“It’s okay, Mika,” I murmured. “It’s okay.”
She was shaking like a leaf, her body tense. I cupped the back of her head, tightening my grip on her.
For several seconds, Mika did nothing but stand there, arms stiff at her sides. Then she gradually curled her fists into my shirt and held on tight.
“It’s just a cup,” I said. “It’s no big deal.”
She nodded, although she said nothing.
“We can sweep up the glass,” I continued. “Cleaning up a mess is easy.”
Slowly, Mika began to relax. She sagged against my chest, burying her face in my shoulder.
Her ex was a lucky man. If I wasn’t handicapped by my damn leg, I would hunt the bastard down for what he’d done to her.
When Mika finally stopped shaking, I pulled back and cupped her face in my hands, tilting her head up to look at me. The tip of her tongue flicked out, wetting her lower lip.
Fuck, I would give anything for a chance to kiss her. Just once.
I searched her face and her wide, watchful brown eyes. When she curled her hand over my bicep, a vice of protectiveness locked around my heart.
“I’m not him,” I murmured. “I swear, I’m not him.”
