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“Sorry.” I mumble the words, focused on getting the blood cleaned off her face as gently as I can. Maggie is silent while I work, her breath warm against my cheek as I lean close.
When I sit back on my heels to assess my work, Maggie tips her head to the side. “Well? Am I going to live? Am I going to have a cool scar on my face now? Can I tell people that I got it saving Olive from a falling tree branch so I sound like more of a badass?”
“I think it’s just a scratch. I doubt it will scar.” Maggie huffs a breath at my words, disturbing a leaf stuck in her hair. I debate picking it out, but decide I’m enjoying the Dr. Seuss look and turn my attention to her ankle.
“So, are you a doctor or something? How did you get so good at this?” Maggie’s foot twitches under my hands as I palpate gently around her ankle. “Ow.”
“I used to be a nurse,” I grunt out. I feel my way along her foot. She grunts and jerks her foot out of my hand as I feel along its outside edge. A closer look at the skin and I think there’s some bruising, but it’s hard to tell. “Is that from just now or from this morning?”
“Is what from this morning?”
“Your foot hurting there, and that bruise.”
“What bruise?”
I point to a darker patch of skin along what I suspect is an injured fifth metatarsal. “This bruise.”
Maggie leans close, peering at her foot. “It’s not bruised. It’s just the light.” She leans back and waves a hand around my cabin. “It’s getting dark, how can you even see that?”
I don’t answer, already untying her shoe on the other foot. I pull it off, then push to my feet to flip on the lights. Maggie is peering at her feet when I return to the couch, holding them up in the light and turning them one way and the other.
“Now, do you believe me?” I point to her right foot, the skin obviously darker than her left foot. “That’s a bruise. We should get you to a doctor.”
Maggie looks up at me, eyes wide. “No, I don’t need a doctor. I’ll just ice it tonight. I’m sure it will be fine in the morning.”
Shaking my head, I snag the washcloth off the couch and take it into the kitchen to rinse. “You need x-rays, Maggie. There’s a good chance you fractured a metatarsal.”
“And you can tell that just by looking, Dr. Grumpypants?” She’s peering over the back of the couch at me, one eyebrow raised and a stubborn set to her jaw.
I don’t answer, busy rinsing the washcloth. When I’m satisfied, I wring it out and bring it back to the couch. This time I perch on the edge of the cushion instead of kneeling on the ground, so I can clean a little more of her face.
“You need an x-ray.” I insist, gently wiping around the scratch on her head. No fresh blood wells up, which is a relief. “You don’t need stitches for this, it’s already stopped bleeding. Do you have a headache?” I lean back, peering into her eyes. I find nothing but annoyance.
“It’s five o’clock on a Saturday, Kel. I’d have to go to the emergency room and I am NOT going bankrupt over a little twisted ankle. I’ll go to urgent care tomorrow.” The way Maggie is clenching her jaw convinces me she won’t be easy to persuade.
“You should sleep here. I’ll take you to urgent care.” The offer is out of my mouth before I know what I’m saying. Maggie sleep here? Where would she sleep? I don’t have a spare room, not with Olive here.
Fuck. What is Olive going to think about Maggie sleeping over? I can’t let her sleep in my room, what kind of an example would I be setting? Dammit, I wish I’d had time to fix the electricity in Nate’s cabin. It’s too cold at night not to have the heat on. Maybe she can sleep up at Mrs. Sutton’s cabin—the house that Sydney and I practically grew up in with Nate, Greg, and Jackie.
She’s practically vibrating with anger, and all I want to do is touch her. If doing the right thing means keeping her here, then that’s what I’ll do. Whether she likes the idea or not.
“Seriously, Kel. You don’t have to go out of your way. I’ll call my sister and have her come get me.”
Maggie
There’s so much tension in my spine I’m afraid if I breathe too hard, I’ll snap in half. My face hurts, my skin itches, my ankle and foot are throbbing, and my pussy is begging for attention so loudly I’m afraid Kel can hear it purring.
“You’re staying here.”
The undertone of annoyance in his voice makes me want to dig my heels even more. “I’m not. Hand me my shoes, please. I’m going home.”
He doesn’t move. Instead, his stupidly hot jaw clenches tighter. “No.”
I lean forward into his space, because I need to make a point, not because I want to catch another whiff of the sweaty, sawdusty smell that distracted me while he carried me up to his house. “I’m not staying here.”
Our foreheads are almost touching, and I can’t help glancing down at his full lips. They’re half hidden by his stubble, but that doesn’t stop me from wondering what it would feel like to catch the bottom one between my teeth.
“If you think I’m going to let you drive out of here on that foot, you’re about to discover just how stubborn I am. And I play dirty.”
