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“Thank you.” My words sound useless because I haveno idea how to repay them. They were the first to arrive at the accident after hearing it on the phone. They called Hudson and the sheriff and the paramedics to get me to the hospital. The whole night is a blur and, to be honest, one I would rather forget.
With a sigh, I lean back into the soft sofa as I watch Tanner follow them both out the door, watching them get into their car and drive off safely before he comes back inside, locking the door behind him. He is laser focused as he strides to the kitchen, then to the back of the house, locking the back door, making sure everything is secure.
“Let’s go, baby girl,” he says, swooping me up in his arms, and I fall back into his hold completely. “You need a bath.” As he walks us up the stairs and into the bathroom, I close my eyes and soak in his warmth, remaining quiet and letting the memories of the night sweep over me now that we are alone. I feel safe and snug in his arms, almost drowsy. The smell of gasoline lingers, but I am not sure if it is stuck to my throat and nostrils or in my hair. Thank God, the vehicle didn’t catch fire, but the gas tank was obviously punctured because that is all I can smell. Tanner sits me down on a chair in the large bathroom before turning on the bath.
“Can you lift your arms?” he asks as he grabs the bottom of my t-shirt. I obey his request and put my arms up, only wincing slightly with the action. I am taking that for a win given what I have just been through. Tanner peels the top from my body, going so slowly and tentatively it is almost making me cry again. I swallow and try to stand, to do it myself. I hate feeling so dependent.
“Sit,” he growls, and my body obeys again, my butthitting the chair swiftly as he leans down, his actions deliberate as he takes off my socks, rubbing my cold feet in his large, warm hands in the process.
“That feels nice,” I say quietly as his hands run up my legs and he looks over the grazes on my shins and thighs. I see his jaw clench, but he doesn’t say anything, opening my shorts and lifting me up so I am standing.
“Hold on to my shoulders.”
I do, and he pulls my shorts and underwear down my legs gently. I grimace as the clothes scrape against my bare legs, stinging my body, and I lean my forehead onto his shoulder, feeling lightheaded.
“I got you,” he says softly, his hand sweeping around my bare middle, the other opening my bra at the back and then pulling it from my shoulders. He kisses my bare shoulders purposefully, like he is cementing his feelings into my skin. His lips pepper my shoulders and neck, and then he pulls back a little and quickly whips off his shirt, standing in front of me naked from the waist up. I am one hundred percent bare, and I take in a breath, looking at this rugged man who is currently treating me like one of the world's most rare and expensive artworks.
“This is going to hurt, isn’t it?” I whisper tentatively, knowing that the water will bite my grazed skin as he wraps me in his arms and lifts me back up bridal style.
“It’s warm, not too hot. We need to get the mud and dirt off you,” he says as he lowers me into the claw-foot tub. I haven’t had a chance to experience this exquisite bath yet, so I guess this is one bonus to a horrific evening. My body submerges, and I close my eyes tight and breathe through the sting.
“I got you,” Tanner whispers, his hands firm on me, not letting me go for a moment. The water feels amazing, but it does sting as I predicted. Slowly, the warm water becomes comforting, and I relax. Tanner's face is right in front of mine as I open my eyes, looking at me with concern.
“I’m okay,” I say, breathless, wanting to ease his fears. He doesn’t say anything as he looks at me, his hands running up my bare back as he helps me to lie back, his torso now damp as well.
“I put some oil in the bath to help your grazes,” he says, grabbing a washcloth and dunking it in the water. I am about to grab it from him when he continues. “Lie back and relax.” He reaches the end of the bath and picks up my foot. Bringing it out of the water, one foot at a time, he wipes it with the washcloth and a little soap. His hold on me is soft, deliberate, and not leaving an inch of skin untouched. My breath gets caught in my chest as I watch him, concentrating on my skin and body like he is trying hard to make sure everything is intact. It isn’t until he moves to the other foot that my eyes close. I feel his hands cup my ankle, then my calf, his movements tender across my grazes on my shins. His hands then run up to my thighs, and still, his strokes continue, washing every inch of me. I have never been bathed before. Sure, I have had a few massages from time to time when I felt like treating myself, but that has nothing on this.
I feel like I almost doze off as Tanner takes his time with me. His hands moving slowly across my skin, every inch of me caressed, his eyes running over every bump, curve, scratch, and bruise. He gets to my neck and chest,and I open my eyes to watch him again, extreme concentration on his face.
“Thank you,” I say quietly, because I needed this. A tender hand. Someone to just take care of me, just for tonight. Tomorrow, I can go back to looking after myself.
“No thanks needed. Lie back and let me wash your hair,” he says, and my eyebrows rise a little. But his hand cups under my head, cradling the weight, and I sink down into the water a little farther as he saturates my hair. Sitting back up, he starts massaging my scalp softly with the shampoo, digging in with just the right amount of pressure. He runs his thumbs down my neck and back up again, releasing the stress in my muscles he somehow knows I hold, before rinsing my hair, letting the water flow through, and then repeating the action again with the conditioner. As his large hands hold my head, he looks down at me, looking right into my soul, and the throbbing I felt in my head before now dissipates.
If someone had told me that Tanner Whiteman was capable of this when I first arrived in Whispers, I would have laughed in their face. But the way he is handling my body has my chest burning, along with my eyes as they threaten to water just from his tender touch. With the job of bathing me now done, he sits on the small seat next to the bath and watches me.
“Tell me what happened…” He swallows roughly.
“I was working at the computer,” I start telling him, closing my eyes and visualizing it. “I had some good news from Griffin about the renovation and I was happy. Wanted to celebrate. So I got in the truck and called Lacy because I knew they would be at the bar.” Opening myeyes, I look at him and his hand comes into the bath to hold mine, our fingers entwining as his thumb rubs back and forth.
He remains silent so I continue. “Everything was fine. I was driving the limit, no other cars. But I pressed the brakes to start to slow down for the corner, and it didn’t slow. I started hitting them really hard, but nothing happened. The corner was coming up, and instead of slowing, the truck felt like it was going faster and…” My heart stutters a bit as I try hard to remember all the details.
“You swerved, took the corner at speed, and flipped into the field?” he asks, his voice hoarse.
“Something like that,” I tell him, and he nods.
“When was the last time you drove the truck before tonight?” he asks, and I take a deep breath.
“Um, I think a few days ago. I went into town to see the girls and pick up some groceries.”
“Was it working okay then?”
My body stills as I look at him. He is holding his anger well, but I can tell his shoulders are tight.
“It seemed fine. I didn’t notice anything different about it, but I have only driven it a few times. I don’t know how long it sat in the shed before I started using it,” I say honestly.
“Okay. Time to rest,” Tanner says, leaning into the bath and pulling the plug, then helping me out. My legs aren’t strong enough to hold me up entirely now that my body has turned to mush at his touch. He wraps me up in a robe and again lifts me bridal style, walking me to mybedroom. Then he places me on my bed, drying my hair as best he can with the towel.
“You don't have to do all this,” I say wearily.
