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The flashlight clicked off, and my breath snagged ice cold in my lungs.
“Oh shit,” I whispered. I whirled again, foot poised tobreak the land speed record for a pregnant person. The sound of the shop door opening had my heart seizing, and I rushed forward, far, far too fast, definitely far too loudly, just as he spoke again.
“Poppy, calm down. It’s me.”
My head snapped around. “What?”
I could hear his voice behind me. And in my ear. And Jax in surround sound was just too much for my poor, overwhelmed body to handle. “I was in the shop looking for something.”
That was when I tripped, my foot snagging on a root, and I pitched forward hard, knee slamming into the hard ground first, followed swiftly by the heel of my hand as it broke my fall when I threw my arm out in front of me.
“Dammit,” he bit out, “you were out here?”
I rolled to my backside, cradling my wrist against my chest, my heart jolting unevenly when he jogged over to my side. “Owww,” I moaned.
Jax crouched by my side. I could hardly make out his features in the dark, but his smell—clean and crisp and woodsy—had my eyes fluttering shut briefly. “Where did you fall? Did you hit your stomach?”
I shook my head. “My knee and…” A razor-sharp pain sliced through my wrist, then I tried to move it, and I hissed, “Oh, my hand. It’s my wrist, I think.”
Jax stood, sliding his big hands underneath my armpits. “Okay, we’re going to stand slowly. You feel any pain in your leg or knee when you put weight on it, and I’ll carry you.”
I swallowed. Hard. The immediate vision of him striding through the dark woods with me in his arms was a little too historical romance-come-to-life for my current state, and I said a silent prayer that my leg and knee would be just fine.
Thankfully, I was able to stand, only the slightest ache in my knee. He kept a hand hovering just behind my back, nolonger touching me once I stood, and he clicked the flashlight onto his phone again, aiming down at the ground. The bright white light bouncing off the dirt threw his sharp features into view.
His face was close to mine, and I couldn’t really tear my eyes away from the concerned wrinkle in his brow. “I’m okay,” I whispered.
Jax’s jaw clenched, a shadow appearing in the hollow of his cheek from the reflection of the light. He hadn’t shaved yet.
I really liked that he hadn’t shaved yet.
“What are you doing out here?”
I let out a groan. “Being that person I hate when I watch movies or read books. You know, the too stupid to live one who’s like, oh! I’ll be fine. I’ll just check it out myself with my trusty Taser.” I glanced down at the ground. “Oh shit, I dropped my Taser.”
Jax’s answering sigh was so full of long-suffering that I almost cracked a smile. He cast the light from his phone in the direction of where I fell, then leaned over to snag the device in question. One dark eyebrow arched high when he handed it back to me. “Try not to hit an innocent bystander with this one, all right?”
“I almost got an owl,” I told him as we walked shoulder to shoulder back toward the house.
“Sure you did.”
“I’m not sure I like how doubtful you sound. Did you see how quick my reflexes were? I turned and fell the exact moment you opened that door. It’s impressive, actually.”
“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll think about that stunning athletic display all night.”
Another tree branch appeared in our path, and Jax cupped my elbow in his hand to steady me as we stepped over it, disappearing just as quickly. His fingers were so long. Wasn’tthat such a strange thing to think about? People could be similar heights. Similar weights. And one man could have short, stubby fingers. Another man could have long, almost graceful fingers.
Dexterous fingers.
Strong and calloused. Capable of … a lot.
Was I breathing hard again?
I rolled my lips between my teeth and yanked the reins on wherever that train of thought was going to go.
We cleared the branch, sidestepping toward a clearer path back to the house, and Jax’s fingers disappeared from my skin, the heat lingering after he’d dropped his hand back to his side. The walk from the shop wasn’t long, and we ascended the porch quietly, him walking just behind me as I opened the door to the house.
Jax paused in the doorway and looked at the scene I’d left behind—quiet music playing on the speaker in the corner, a fire crackling in the stone fireplace that dominated the center of the wide open space between the kitchen and the family room. My book was tossed on top of a big fuzzy blanket.
