Page 20 of Rainwater
Five
Corey woke to the soft singing of birds through the open window of the room where he lay. The bed was soft and sweet-smelling, the sheets’ scent much better than sunshine and clean air. They smelled like…his brain couldn’t seem to function. He shifted restlessly. They smelled like…damn…they smelled like Jennifer.
Memories surfaced. Soft hands shaking him awake countless times. A husky voice asking if he knew his name and other equally silly questions.
His eyes cracked open and he groaned at the stabbing brightness. God, his head hurt. The back of it felt on fire, and he vaguely remembered the doctor saying that he had received a mild concussion and that he’d have to stitch his head up. “Mild, my ass,” he croaked.
He turned over and came face-to-face with a tiny black-and-white pig, whose forefeet were resting on the edge of the bed. The curious little eyes studied him, and Corey thought he was the cutest creature he’d ever seen. He smiled, reached out and let the animal smell his hand before he petted him.
“That’s Two Tone. He has the run of the house and has to know everything that’s going on, I’m afraid.”
Corey’s eyes raised and connected with Jennifer’s. Her voice was husky, as if she’d just woken up. But he knew that she had been up through the night, checking to make sure he was all right. Her concern touched him deeply and made him feel very vulnerable.
“He’s cute,” he managed to say around the pain in his midriff. Raking his hand through his hair, he grimaced and the action pulled the healing flesh of his face.
“Be careful. He uses that to his advantage.”
Corey patted the little pig again and shifted, his face contorting in pain. Jennifer’s assisting hands were instantly there, shooing Two Tone away and helping him to sit up.
“What am I doing here?”
“You called me, remember?” She cocked her eyebrows and smiled slightly.
She was pleased that he had called her. He could hear it in her voice, and in his injured state, that knowledge pleased him immensely.
“How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been hit with a baseball bat and kicked by a bunch of yahoos. Not to mention that little war going on in my head.”
Jennifer smiled wryly and settled the pillows to best support him.
Corey closed his eyes and willed away the pain. When he opened them, she was sitting on the edge of the bed. He wasn’t stupid. The attraction he felt for this woman was unique. Women had come and gone in his life. Nameless, unfocused faces that jumbled into one big blur. Jennifer stood out like a shining gem, polished to a brightness that hurt his eyes, his heart. Oh, God, he wanted her so bad. But he could hurt her so bad and that would destroy him.
She had that small-town charm. Never turn a person away who was in need. She had obviously been watching him whilehe slept, and something warm curled around his heart. Whether it was because she was afraid for him or because her integrity demanded it, she’d done it. Her sleepy eyes watched him with a hidden hunger burning just at the fringes and it hurt him to look into those eyes and know that she wanted him.
“You must be tired from watching me all night. Why don’t you get some rest?” His voice was hoarse, his eyes revealing the vulnerability he felt.
“I will. Later. After Ellie has gone to school. And I’m sure you’re going to be okay.”
She leaned forward and he watched the material of her shirt tauten over her breasts. She snatched a bottle off the nightstand along with a glass of water. “Here, take these. That should help the war to cool down into a skirmish.”
He remembered how sweet she had tasted yesterday and last night. He licked his dry lips, wishing for the coolness of her soft skin against them. “Are you always this kind to strangers?”
His eyes shifted to hers and he could see the banked desire in them, as well as a wariness and loneliness to match his own. He lifted his hand and accepted the aspirin, his fingers brushing hers as he took the water glass.
“No. I don’t usually get calls in the middle of the night from men who need my help.”
He thought she was lying. He could see that she would help anyone in need. Then he drank thirstily, his throat working as he swallowed the aspirin. He leaned forward to replace the glass and winced at the sharp pain in his ribs and back.
“Here, let me.” She took the glass from his hand and set it down. The brush of her hand was an electric sensation against his skin. “Where am I?” he asked.
“Upstairs in my bed.”
She tried to answer casually, but he could hear the strain in her voice.
In her bed?He was in her bed! No wonder it smelled so good and felt so good.
“You needed eight stitches. The doctor took care of stitching you up. He said your ribs would be tender for a little while. He also said that your back is bruised. It looks horrible.”
