Page 27 of So Right
“Let’s just sit for a minute. Let you regain your equilibrium. And then I can put a bandage on this.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Come on, I have a whole first aid kit I barely ever use. Please let me use a bandage?”
A smile crept over her, and she relaxed.
He plucked some antibacterial spray from the kit and removed the gauze he’d been holding against her. “Looks like it stopped bleeding.” He sprayed the wound and put the medicine away, then withdrew a bandage, which he tried to open and failed. “Who the hell designed these wrappers?”
She took it from him, her fingers grazing his. “Let me.”
She tore it open—it wasn’t easy—and handed it back to him.
“Excellent. Remind me to call you when I can’t open the pickle jar either.”
She smiled again, loving his sense of humor and how comfortable he made her feel.
He placed the bandage against the wound and glided his fingertips over it to smooth the adhesive against her. “There. All better.” His hand lingered, his fingers stroking her forehead and temple.
She couldn’t look away from his mesmerizing gaze—it was intense but also calming. Then his eyes narrowed, and his fingers brushed along her hairline. “Ouch, what’s this scar from?”
Oh shit.She’d been so caught up in the moment that she’d forgotten that was there. And with her hair pulled back into a braid, it was far more noticeable than when her hair was loose. She had a rehearsed excuse, but it froze on her tongue. The words that came out instead shocked the hell out of her.
“My ex broke a beer bottle over my head.”
His gaze widened, mirroring her own surprise. What the hell had she just done?
“God, Kelsey,” he breathed, his voice low and dark. “Where is that son of a bitch now?”
“Prison. Thankfully.”
“Good, because if I ever see him, I might have to return the favor. Or worse.” The brown of his eyes turned nearly black, and a wave of anxiety crested over her. She appreciated his sentiment, but if he was the type of guy that resorted to violence, she didn’t want any part of him. Not even as a friend.
She backed away and was glad that he let her. Standing, she brushed her hands against her thighs. “Thanks, uh, for taking care of that.”
He put the bandage wrapper and the first aid kit into the backpack and zipped it up. He moved slowly, and she could practically hear the gears of his mind turning. Why on earth had she told him that? She didn’t talk about Noah or his abuse. Not outside of reporting it to the police and begrudgingly telling her family why they’d broken up. She’d considered hiding it from them too—God, it was beyond humiliating—but had ultimately spilled the beans. What a mistake that had been, given her mother’s characteristically unsympathetic response.
He pulled the backpack over his shoulders and looked at her, his lips pressed together. “Kelsey—”
“Can we forget I said anything? We were having such a nice day.” She just wanted to get back to the car. And then spend thirty minutes driving back with him. Ugh, what a disaster.
“No, we can’t. That’s a big deal.” He pulled his hat off and ran his free hand through his hair. “But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. If you ever do, I’d be happy to listen. No, it would be my privilege to listen.” The darkness had gone from his gaze and was replaced with a simple sincerity and warmth that made her breath hitch.
“Thank you. I appreciate that more than you can know.”
He put his hat back on and nodded. “Okay then, should we continue?”
“Absolutely.”
The conversation was intermittent at best until they were almost back to the car. “I’m sorry if I ruined the hike,” she said.
His head swung toward her. “Not at all. I was just thinking what a great time I had. You’re a terrific hike partner. We’ve done almost six miles, and you haven’t slowed a bit. Even after taking a branch to the face.”
“Is it bad if I admit that I’m glad we’re almost back?”
He chuckled. “Not at all. I respect your honesty. You know, that bandage makes you look rather dashing—not quite a pirate, but definitely bordering on badass.”
“Thanks. I think.”
