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I have a death grip on my cell, trying to figure out what I should do. Call the cops? I don’t want to be the girl who cried wolf here.
Looking over my shoulder, I start to descend the last part of the staircase when the doorbell goes off. I’m ashamed to admit that a squeak of surprise left me. That wasn’t all that happened. Oh no, in my moment of complete idiocy, I miss a step. All I know is I went from vertical to a tumbleweed in a split second. I feel the thumping of my body on the stairs then…nothing.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. I rang the bell to let her know we were about to unload the truck, so we didn’t startle her with the sudden noises. There was a muffled thump and nothing. I called out to her multiple times, but the door was locked.”
“It’s not locked now.”
“I unlocked it.”
“Do you have a key?”
“Who are you to just waltz in like you own the place?”
“Who the hell are you?”
There were too many voices, loud voices at that.
“Is she alright? Let me through!”
They fill my awareness, causing pain to shoot through my head. I blink my eyes open and groan as the light spears my irises. I shift, slowly bringing myself upright.
“Ma’am, hey, don’t move. We need to make sure you didn’t injure yourself in your fall.”
Fall? Oh yeah. The world did slip away from me on the way down the staircase.
Just freaking great.
I will never live this down.
Though, it’s not my first graceful moment in life…doubt it will be the last.
I meet the gaze of an older man, his concerned brows tugged into a point. I’ve seen him in town, but his name escapes me right now. He has kind eyes that help to put me at ease.
“I’m okay, nothing is broken but my pride.” My face heats with embarrassment. The foyer is full of people. Great. The whole town is here to witness this.
I sigh. My body is already starting to hurt, but it isn’t the severe pain of having a serious injury. Just what happens when you collide with an old, made to outlive us all, hardwood floor. I pull myself up fully, reach out for my toes, and let the muscles and my bones realign themselves. I will be feeling this fall for a while. I’m as young as I used to be. This forty-one-year-old body can take a licking and all, but damn. I don’t spring back like my twenty-something self would have.
The cracking of my back feels good. Maybe the stretching and a very hot soak in my claw-foot tub, full of Epsom salt, will help keep some of the aches away.
“Vicky, babe, are you okay?”
I freeze, hearing his voice. I’m hoping I just heard wrong a few minutes ago. Seems my luck just ran out. I hadn’t been sure who was who when I first came around, but now there is no denying it. Why in the name of the gods is he here? If I shoot him for intruding… Stop that line of thought. You are not that kind of woman. You’d take him out when there are no witnesses. Think, Tori, think.
Internal pep talk over, I take in a lung full of air and let it out slowly before I ask, “Carter, why are you here?”
I don’t bother to pick my head up as I speak. The room goes quiet, my tone changing with the question. See, men know the tone that means someone is about to die. They really do learn.
“Babe,” he draws the word out, “don’t be like that.”
“You have no right to call me babe. Or anything, for that matter.”
I lift my head and with the help of the gentlemen around me, I get to my feet. I don’t wobble. Yay, me. I gently run a hand over myself. Okay, this is okay. I’m not falling apart at least.
The warm body to my left moves a little closer, his aftershave or cologne—He always smells so good. I look up, meeting his gaze. Ian watches me, his brows furrowing in worry. I give him a small smile and pat his chest. It’s like he and I are magnets. I just need to touch him at that moment. He doesn’t seem to mind.
“You should go to the hospital and let them check you over,” his low timbre rolls through me. It’s like downing a shot of whiskey. I shiver as he moves closer, our bodies pressing together now.
