Page 3 of Bidding on a Second Chance
“I was blindsided.” Usually people meant the word figuratively, so using it literally was funny, right?
Apparently not. Graham crossed his arms, a silent demand for a better answer. She’d never seen him question a suspect, but she had no doubt he excelled at getting the information he needed. He wouldn’t leave before he got answers.
“The driver was turning. He said there was a little boy on the other side of the lane. He was so busy keeping an eye on him that he never even saw me. Which makes no sense to me, because I swear he looked right at me, but this is kind of how my life goes.” Even shrugging helplessly—or was it hopelessly?—demanded an inordinate amount of energy.
“Were there witnesses?”
“One. Cody got his statement.”
Graham flinched. Cody must not have mentioned the accident after all. “What’s the diagnosis?” He lifted his chin to indicate her foot.
With sweater weather firmly upon them, she could keep him from glimpsing her skinned elbow and the deep purple blooming on her arm. If he witnessed her moving, he might guess the bruised rib, but she wouldn’t be the one to tell him. Better for him to think her foot was the only injury. It hurt worse, anyway. “I can’t walk on it. They say it isn’t broken, but a specialist will take another look after the weekend. Tuesday or Wednesday.”
“They couldn’t get you in sooner?” He worked his jaw and glared toward the check-in desk like he might turn a bad cop routine on the unsuspecting receptionist.
“The specialist only comes to Redemption Ridge twice a week.”
He frowned. “How long to heal?”
“They think it’ll be a week or two, and I’m good with crutches. It’s fine.” A bluff. She wanted to collapse into her armchair, pull up a blanket, position a couple of ice packs, and not move for a month. Unfortunately, if she did that, her business would tank, and she’d let down a local family who was counting on her.
“It’s not fine.” Graham couldn’t know everything she had on her plate, but the way he assessed her said he had a rough idea of how little time she had for injuries of this magnitude. If it weren’t for their history, she would’ve sworn she saw kind concern swimming laps in those blue irises of his. “You were hit by a truck.”
The seriousness of it crept up on her, pushing forward tears she hadn’t realized were so near the surface. She willed them back, but her sniffle made Graham’s mouth tighten again. If she wanted to pull something over on him, she’d have to try harder. She rallied a smile. “If it’s not fine, it’s at least par for the course. A day in the life of Piper Wells.”
His frown deepened. “I’m giving you a ride home.”
She was stranded, and he knew it. And the only reason he knew it was because she’d been flustered enough to send him a message telling him so.
She squirmed under the intensity of his gaze. He’d always been good at making her feel like the only woman in the world, and his skill hadn’t faded in the last two years. Perhaps he’d been practicing on someone else? Yes. That must be it. Someone not from Redemption Ridge, or she’d have heard about it.
“Let’s go.”
She was sore and tired, and Teddy needed her. The fastest way home was Graham. As a professional knight in shining armor, he was obligated to keep insisting until she allowed him to assist her. She’d never liked being a damsel in distress, but the Lord had once again assigned her the role, and she didn’t have the energy to keep arguing. “Fine, but only because someone else is depending on me.”
Graham helped her to her feet with a surprisingly gentle hand under her good arm. The impulse to lean against his chest and let those arms encircle her was so magnetic that resisting the compulsion tipped her dangerously in the opposite direction. He caught her waist and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders, saving her from falling by pulling her into the exact embrace she’d been trying to avoid.
From their first date onward, his hugs had always felt more like home than she’d experienced anywhere else since she’d lost her parents. Somehow, that sense of safety and belonging hadn’t shattered along with their relationship. Forget curling up in the armchair for a month. She could—
The softness of his thermal shirt against her cheek registered. Regardless of how right this felt, itwasn’tright. She sucked in and held a breath, freezing until she could regain her bearings. And her self-control.
So the guy was attractive. And kind. And had amazing reflexes.
None of that negated the fact that they didn’t want the same things out of life. A relationship would never work long-term. Since she forever struggled to keep that front and center in her heart, she inventoried other obstacles between them: he was bossy, Bryce hated him, he worked an undeniably dangerous job. Plus, she’d once ended up with stitches because he’d left a cabinet open.
That last one was petty, but if it kept her from throwing herself into his arms at every opportunity, so be it.
“You good?” Graham’s chest shifted like he was peering down at her.
She straightened.
He moved back as one might step away from a tower of playing cards. An accurate metaphor for her physical state … and the rest of her life too. Once she’d settled onto her crutches, he snagged her purse from the chair.
She extended a hand. “I’ll carry that.”
He motioned to the door without surrendering the accessory. Given his superior sense of balance and his workout regime, which had reduced her to a boneless puddle the time she’d tagged along, she was in no state to fight him on the courtesy. If the man wanted to carry a purse, he could carry a purse. And with the no-nonsense set of his jaw, no one was likely to raise any questions about it.
Outside, he escorted her to the passenger seat of his truck. Her crutches thumped into the bed of the vehicle, and he climbed behind the wheel. “You might want to text your grandparents about dinner.”
