Page 34 of Someone to Hold
She frowns as if she isn’t quite sure how to answer. “It was my house to start with, but he did add several mirrors when he movedin, and some fancy scale that tracks his body stats. He also has ten pairs of identical sneakers.”
“Um, why?” I have to admit, I’ve never noticed Jon’s choice in footwear because he refuses to hang out with us. Sadie, Iris, and Taylor are with guys who make an effort. Maybe it’s because Jon and Avah were dating before the book club was formed.
Avah doesn’t seem to notice his aversion to her friends. “One pair is for the gym, one is for running, one is for just hanging out on the weekends.” She gives a tight smile. “He prefers that one type of shoe.”
“I guess that means he’s loyal,” I tell her, trying to salvage the awkwardness of this exchange.
“I always thought loyalty was a good thing in dogs, but you’re right. I want a loyal husband.”
“Yay, Jon,” I say weakly.
“Do you need help in?” she asks as she pulls to a stop in front of the house.
“I’ve got it.”
“Is that a ramp coming off your front porch?” She lifts her sunglasses to the top of her head.
“Yeah.” For some reason, I feel my cheeks heat. “I kind of suck on steps with these crutches, so Chase built it for me. Makes getting up and down a lot easier.”
“Okay, that’s sweet,” Avah says. “And kind of hot.”
“It’s not,” I insist, even though my pulse went haywire yesterday morning watching him through the front porch window, sleeves rolled up, muscles flexing as he measured and hammered, making something just for me.
“He doesn’t want to take a chance on me falling and re-injuring myself because he might have to help for longer. His motivations are selfish.”
“Uh-huh,” she agrees, her tone deadpan. “He’s gorgeous, can ride a bull, and is good with his hands. I can see why he wouldn’t be a viable candidate for a dick appointment.”
“There’s also the part about him having no interest,” I remind her through clenched teeth, then hold up a hand. “And before you read something into that, neither do I.”
“Keep telling yourself that, girl. I’ll pick you up for book club.”
“Thanks, Avah.” I hold her gaze for a moment. “For the record, no matter what you wear, you’ll be a beautiful bride. Jon is lucky to be marrying you.”
“Yep,” she says. But I see her draw in a deep breath like my words resonated. I hope they did.
I enter the house and then let out a long sigh when I realize the scooter is on the other side of the living room. My armpits are constantly sore from the crutches.
Then I hear a noise from upstairs and freeze. I hope to everything holy some neighbor’s cat broke in to terrorize Nibbles, Laurel’s beloved pet gerbil. Because the idea of an intruder is not something my nerves can handle at the moment.
I reach for the purse I tossed onto the sofa, but when I look toward the steps again, my heart slams against my ribs as tanned feet come down the stairs. Then muscular calves sprinkled with light brown hair. And then a white towel and…my mouth goes dry as the rest of Chase comes into view.
His chest is damp and droplets of water glisten on his shoulders. Holy shit, his shoulders.
I mean, I knew they were broad, but seeing those muscles ripple underneath a sweaty T-shirt and witnessing the hard planes in all their naked glory are two different things.
He’s securing the towel around his waist, and even though it feels like I’m incapable of it at the moment, I must make a sound because his gaze crashes into mine.
He misses his step and stumbles. And then, holy double shit, the towel drops.
And then I screech, and the crutchesgo flying.
I try to catch myself on the couch but miss, because—did I mention the towel dropping?
Talk about a man in all his naked glory.
I hardly have a chance to appreciate it, since I go down with a hard thud onto the hardwood floor.
A moment later, Chase is there, his arms extended like he’s going to pull me to my feet.
