Page 37 of Love Undercover
She ignored the flush that crept into her face again. “Well, when I was being kidnapped, I didn’t have the forethought to plan my escape footwear.”
He huffed a laugh, the smile forcing the lines to fan out around his eyes, and it sent a web of tingles through her.
His forearms flexed as he rolled the empty grocery bags and stuffed them into one. “I’ll warn you next time, so you’re packed and ready.”
“That would be a win-win,” she said as he bent to stuff the bags in the cabinet under the sink. “Then you wouldn’t have to go buy me underwear.”
His eyes flashed to her face as he straightened, flickering like a flame in the dark as he placed his palms on the counter before him. Was he doing it to steady himself, or was that just in her head?
“Speaking of,” she hurried on, swallowing past the dryness in her throat, “I know the ankle presents a problem, but I really would like to shower. Especially after that adventure.”
His expression was stony. “Sure. I’ll get you a fresh towel and stuff.” He pushed away from the counter and headed for the hallway.
She stewed in uncertainty, was heavy with it as she watched him gather everything she’d need.
“I assume you’ll need to borrow something to wear while your clothes are in the wash?”
She blinked as understanding settled. She could’ve let him get her clothes when he was at the store. He’d offered, but it had felt extra demanding. Especially considering she’d been planning to run while he was gone anyway.
“I might be able to find something you won’t be swimming in,” he continued when she said nothing.
She pulled a lock of her dirty hair forward, running her fingers through it nervously. “Oh. Yeah, that would probably be good.”
He gave one swift nod and disappeared into the bedroom—hisbedroom, which he’d now let her use twice.
She hadn’t realized it was the only bedroom until she’d investigated earlier. There was one other room, but it was much smaller—really only big enough for the desk and shelves that dominated the space—and it was currently filled with boxes, which she’d discovered on her rabid search for a phone to contact the outside world.
Chase emerged from his bedroom, and she couldn’t help the way her stomach clenched when their eyes met, stirring something entirely foreign inside of her.
“I laid the clothes out on the bed.”
He came over to the couch and took the ice off her foot. Before she could say anything or guess what his intentions were, he hoisted her up and into his arms. Her hands scrabbled to grip around his neck, and she swore she saw him smirk.
“Crackers,“ she breathed.
“The hall bathroom would work better since it has a tub you could sit in, but I figured you’d want the privacy of the primary,” he murmured, carrying her effortlessly into the bedroom.
Cripes, her heart was pounding so hard, like a maniac fighting to get out of a bone cage. If he heard it, he gave no indication as he walked toward the bathroom, setting her on her feet just inside the door. There wasn’t enough room for both of them unless they were pressed against each other.
Which gave her quite the image. A delusional part of her mind threw itself into that fantasy with enthusiasm. Him showering with her, those big hands tracing all the lines of her body. Her eyes shot wider as the flush burned into her cheeks again. She swore she’d be getting a sunburn just from how often her cheeks flamed with embarrassment.
He tilted his head sideways as he took in her expression. “Do you need anything else?”
She put her hand against the wall to keep her balance, and her response shot out in fits and starts: “Um. No. Thank you.”
He hesitated for another few seconds before scooting around her to turn the shower on. He cleared his throat. “It’s a little finicky,” he said by way of explanation. “And just to save you the process of doing it yourself. You know. With your ankle.”
The way his voice contracted made her smile. Seeing him as discomfited as she was by their proximity made her feel less like an idiot.
He straightened, and it put them only inches from each other. They were both frozen as he stared down at her, and her heart throbbed again, calling, calling for something. His chest moved like he’d just finished a sprint.
She started to lift her hand, that fantasizing part of her brain goading her to place it against his chest, to ask him to join her. Forget the circumstances that had brought them here because she craved the way his strong arms could hold her, and she pictured them together, slick with water and desire—consequences be damned.
And then she jolted. She hadn’t even thought far enough to realize that there would evenbeconsequences. And while she didn’t always think consequences through in general, she was usually better about the long-game when it came to physical intimacy because she knew herself. She may have been a little indiscriminate about who she dated, but she never got naked with a man before they’d known each other a few months, when she felt she could afford the emotional attachment.
She dropped her hand, and the sound of it hitting her thigh was like a bullet to his concentration because he blinked and backed away, never taking his eyes from her face. Then he was gone, and the tension seeped out of her. But it was replaced by a sense of disappointment that made her bones ache.
She took a cleansing breath and hopped to sit on the closed toilet to undress instead of trying to balance on one foot.
