Page 31 of Guarded Secrets
Once inside, he forced himself to let go of her hand and step away from her. He crossed to the kitchen and opened a cupboard to retrieve the kettle from the top shelf. He filled it with water and set it on the cooktop.
Where the hell were the tea bags? If he kept busy, maybe he wouldn’t haul her into his arms and pick up where that interrupted kiss left off.
She disappeared into his bathroom, returning minutes later with his blue and white first aid kit. She set it on the dining table and began taking out supplies.
“What are you doing?”
“Preparing to clean the scrape on your elbow. Your sweatpants are torn at the knee, so we’ll see if you have a scrape there too.”
“I’ll take care of it myself.”
He set a mug on the counter and finally found a box of tea pushed to the back of a drawer.
Did tea go bad? He hoped not because the box was years old.
The kettle started whistling and he turned off the burner and poured steaming water over the tea bag.
“Here.” He set the steaming mug next to her.
“You made me tea.”
“You like tea.”
“I do. I’m not sure how you know that, but I do like tea.” She gave him an assessing once-over. “Are you taking care of me, Owen?”
He crossed his arms over his chest, then winced when the movement pulled the road rash on his elbow.
“Look, princess, your mom gave me this tea when I was sick a couple years back. I can’t stand the stuff, but she said it makes people feel better. You had a shock. I’m sticking with Abby’s advice that the tea will help you feel better. Don’t read any more into it than that.”
“Got it. I’ll let it cool while I take care of that scrape.” She moved to the sink. “Now come over here so we can run warm water over it.”
He was already shaking his head. “I’m good.”
“You have dried blood all the way down your arm. I can see there’s dirt in the wound.” She narrowed her eyes. “If you don’t let me clean it, I’m calling Mom so she can tell you to let me clean it.”
He gave her his patented Owen scowl. She ignored him and reached for her purse to get her phone.
“Goddammit. Fine.” He hated being outmaneuvered.
She smiled sweetly like she hadn’t threatened him to get her way. She ran the water, testing it with her finger. When the temperature was to her liking, she pulled his hand under the stream. With liquid soap, she gently washed and rinsed, washed and rinsed, until the dried blood was gone.
She was standing too goddamn close. Her touch was soothing, her hair smelled like sunshine, and her shoulder brushed against the bare skin of his chest.
Earlier, relief that she was safe had nearly made him lose his shit, and if Sawyer hadn’t shown up when he had, Owen would have kissed her. He’d have taken that mouth with his and put to rest the constant question of how they’d be together.
And here she was getting in his head again.
She held her breath when she directed warm water over the torn-up skin, washing away most of the dirt.
“Breathe, princess.”
She let out a noisy exhale. “That has to hurt. I’m sorry.”
“I’ve had worse.”
She used paper towels to gently pat dry his skin. Head bent to her task, she used tweezers to carefully remove bits of grit from the wound. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.” The words were a murmured chant under her breath. It was fucking adorable.
Once she’d gotten the dirt out, she used a cotton swab to apply a thin layer of antibiotic ointment over the abrasion before taping a piece of gauze to cover it. She lifted her face to his. “I think that should do it.”
