Page 19 of Wild For You
“I’m sorry. I lost my dad too.”
“You did?”
“Yep. Military.”
“He was a hero then,” I stated matter-of-factly.
“He was my hero.” I glanced up and saw Andrew was watching me with sad eyes.
Realizing I was spending a little too long on his arms, I moved down to his legs as the sound of the running water filled the room. I focused on his feet and shins, taking great care when I got to his swollen and injured knee. As I approached his thighs, I ran small circles along the skin. The back of my hand skimmed along the wet hem of his makeshift shorts, and suddenly Andrew’s hand fell on top of mine.
“I can take care of that part,” he stated, his voice husky.
“All right, but don’t bend that leg, okay?” I advised, as I turned to face the door to the hallway.
A few minutes later—after washing his hair, draining the tub, then turning on the shower while he stayed seated, so I could rinse him clean of all the soap—I helped him leave the bathroom. I always thought babies were slippery after a bath, but Andrew could give them a run for their money, as his body nearly slipped out of my hold a dozen times before I could fullydry him with a towel. And none of that had anything to do with the wet do-it-yourself shorts that clung to every part of his muscular thighs and outlined a significant bulge that surprised me.
He had no reason to hidethat.
I wrapped the towel around his waist when I was finished drying him with it, and we slowly made our way back to the bedroom.
“All right, how do you want to do this?” I asked as he carefully leaned against the bed, and I wrapped the brace back around his knee.
“What do you mean?”
“We need to get you dressed.”
“Oh.” Andrew’s eyes moved around the room as if he was searching for some sort of solution but was coming up empty.
Suddenly, an idea popped into my head, and I ran with it. Moving over to the dresser, I opened the top drawer and yanked it free, then carried it over to Andrew.
“Here. Please make your selection, sir,” I said, trying my best to sound like the butlers in old movies.
I caught the smirk on Andrew’s lips as he grabbed a pair of boxer briefs and felt proud of myself.
“You can just grab a shirt and shorts from the bottom drawer. That’s all my workout stuff.”
“Okay. What do you normally wear? Would you feel more comfortable in something else?”
“I wear jeans and a T-shirt around the farm, and a suit if I’m dealing with contracts.”
The idea of Andrew wearing a suit caused my stomach to clench. I bet they were tailored to his body like a second skin. That was something I definitely wanted to see one day.
“Those would definitely be more restrictive. I think you’ve made a good choice,” I replied as I grabbed a gray shirt made of dry-wicking material and a pair of black basketball shorts.
With the outfit resting on the bed, I turned to face Andrew and placed my hands on my hips.
“So…”
He cocked an eyebrow.
“We need to remove the wet shorts and put on the dry clothes. Next week, we can start bending the leg for short periods of time, but not yet. It needs to heal.”
“Of course we do.”
“I’ll let you decide. Do you want me in front or behind?” I could have been mistaken, but I swore I heard a low rumble come from his chest.
When he didn’t answer, I decided for him. There was only so much temptation a woman could withstand from an attractive guy who could give Superman a run for his money.
