Page 42 of Trouble Me
She leaned back, the smell of cocoa and the sweetness of marshmallows hitting her. “Like it? I could eat it every day.” Emma took the tray from him and lifted one of the cups out. She sipped the rich, hot chocolate. “Mmmm...so good.” She licked her lips and Shane’s gaze followed her tongue. A wicked glee filled her chest. “Oh, did you want one of these?”
Shane leaned in close to her, but kept his hands to himself. His eyes were dark with desire and her pulse quickened. “I promised myself I’d have some restraint and not haul you off to bed as soon as I saw you. Have some mercy on me, Emma.” His voice was low and so sexy her breath caught in her throat.
She cleared her throat and held up the tray. “It’s all yours.” Her words came out breathy and weak. Damn, she needed some control.
Shane’s groan was low when he stepped back. He took the drink and sipped, his eyes on hers. When he lowered the cup, a pensive smile curved his lips. She eyed him warily. “What?”
“When was the last time you took a walk around the property?”
“Uh, it’s been a while,” she said slowly, her head swimming a bit at the change in conversation.
“It’s a beautiful day. Why don’t we go out and get some air? I really...” He sighed as his eyes raked over her from head to toe, “really need some air.”
Emma’s skin flushed under his gaze. She swallowed hard before she could speak. “Sure. Just give me a minute.”
Upstairs, her heart raced as she stripped down and put on jeans, a thick sweater, and boots. She let her hair down and fluffed it. With a shaky hand, she applied some lip gloss and called it done. Blowing out a breath, she tried to calm her nerves. Seriously, the guy has had his mouth all over her body. Why was she so nervous now? Adding a scarf around her neck, she headed downstairs.
“Okay, I’m ready,” she said, stepping off the last step.
Shane took her hand and looked her over. “You’re beautiful.”
Emma ducked her head with a smile, a blush warming her cheeks. It wasn’t just his words but the way he said them. He acted like she’d walked down in a dazzling ball gown instead of jeans and boots.
They struck out toward the flat expanse directly behind the house that led out to the pond and then gently rolled into hills. As they walked the land in comfortable silence, she realized in that moment, she needed someone to talk to, and that someone was Shane. “I don’t mind telling you about it. About my scar.”
He continued to walk, but glanced over at her. “Okay,” he said simply.
Now that she’d brought it up and wanted to talk to him, how much would she tell him? The inside of her mouth was dry as sawdust. Was she ready for this? One hand rubbed on her leg where the scar lay underneath her clothing.
What the hell. She’d laid it out there without thinking. Time to follow through.
Emma cleared her throat and shoved her hands in her coat pockets. “Two years ago, I fell down a flight of stairs. I missed the top step and fell all the way to the bottom.” She didn’t have to tell him she’d been drunk as a sailor on leave. “I hit my head twice on the way down and they had to put me in a medically induced coma for a week to heal my injuries, especially my head. Among various cuts and bruises, I had a concussion, internal bleeding, lost my spleen, shattered my femur, and broke my back in three places.”
She rubbed absently against the scar under the denim. “I have pins in my back and one leg now. They told me I was lucky they were able to put me back together and I’d be even luckier if I ever walked again.” She smiled. “But I did, and I don’t limp anymore.” The smile faded. “Unfortunately, I don’t run anymore, either.” Even now, her heart ached at the loss of being able to do one of her favorite hobbies. Following on the heels of that ache was anger. Anger at herself and her fucking addiction that had tried its hardest to kill her mind, body, and spirit.
“Sounds like you’re lucky to be alive. And even with the injuries you had, it could have been worse.”
She nodded. “A lot worse. I know I’m blessed. Even if I can’t do certain things like I used to do.”
They stopped at the edge of a clearing. Shane faced her, his eyes studying her. She looked for any evidence of pity in his eyes but found none, for which she was grateful. “Like running,” he said. It was a statement, not a question.
“Yeah, like running.”
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. Emma snuggled against his chest and closed her eyes, reveling in his warmth and heartbeat under her cheek. She inhaled the scent that was all Shane. This was the peace and contentment she wanted so desperately.
She knew it was fleeting and he wasn’t hers. But she was going to enjoy it while it lasted.
