AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Except for this one.
One minute I’m leaving the dance and heading toward my truck, since Samantha said she'd catch a ride with Jasmine, and the next moment, a pretty blonde is falling at my feet.
“Are you alright?” I kneel on the ground and gently help the woman roll to her side. She’s young, her innocent face pale from shock. Blood stains the concrete as well as her palms and knees—marring the fragile skin—and a wave of protectiveness slams into me at the sight. “Damn, you really did a number on yourself, didn’t you?”
“Not... on... purpose,” she gasps out. The stuttered words are clearly painful to spit out as she fights to catch her breath. Her chest rises and falls too quickly, and instinctively, I place my palm over her heart and allow the slightest pressure of my weight.
“Easy now. You’re going to be alright. Just breathe with me, okay?” I press a little more on the deep valley between her breasts, hoping the heaviness helps to calm her nervous system. Like a modified weighted blanket.
Our breaths synchronize as she keeps her brown gaze locked with mine, until finally—finally—I feel the rhythm of her heartbeat begin to slow, returning to normal.
“Good girl,” I murmur before glancing back towards the dance, debating my options. She needs a first aid kit, but do I really want the attention that would rain down upon us if I return to the dance with a wounded mystery woman in my arms?
Hell no.
“Come on, I've got a first aid kit in my truck.”
“No... that's okay.” She attempts a wobbly smile and slowly rises to a sitting position. “I'm... fine.”
“Don't be stubborn. You're bleeding all over the sidewalk,” I argue, my mind made up. I don’t like seeing her injured, and I’ll like it even less if there’s an audience to her pain. “My truck isn't too far. I'll have you patched up in no time.”
Not giving her time to protest, I slide my arms beneath her legs and back before lifting her up to my chest, standing with the momentum.
“What... What are you... Put me down! I'm too heavy!” Panic tinges her voice as she begins wiggling in my arms. An elbow digs into my gut, and I grunt at the impact.
“Shh... You’re safe, trust me.” My tone lowers to the calming one I use for horses on the ranch since she’s as skittish as a newborn colt. “It’ll hurt like a bitch if you try walking, and I’m not about to let you hurt yourself some more.”
Anxious eyes meet mine. They’re huge behind her crooked glasses, most likely jostled from her fall. We stand that way—quiet, contemplative, stubborn—with her secure in my arms, both of us studying the other.
She’s a soft, comforting handful, and I squeeze her closer to my chest. A quilted jacket hides the shape of her body, but the fleshy give of her thighs promises a delicious curvy treat beneath the puffy outer layer.
She’s too young for you, asshole.
“Are we good, baby?” The endearment slips without warning out of my mouth. Feels right, despite her being a stranger. Despite the obvious age difference.
Which is at least a decade, if not more. Because I’ve got silver-flecked hair and weathered skin from being stationed under the desert sun for years while she’s fresh and innocent, practically glowing with vitality under the harvest moon.
When she nods that she’s fine, that she’ll let me carry her, relief pours through my veins because I don’t have to let her go yet. I can give in to this need to protect her. To ensure her safety, even from a few scrapes and bruises.
My long strides eat up the sidewalk once she settles into my embrace, though her muscles remain stiff beneath my hands. At my truck, I carefully set her down in the passenger’s seat before reaching into the back of the cab for the first aid kit.
Its main purpose is for ranch accidents, but it comes in handy for the random mishap, too.
She hisses in discomfort as I dab an alcohol wipe across her knee. “Sorry, I know it stings.” My movements gentle even more as I bend to blow over the scrape, praying it’ll dampen the pain. “I'm Heath, by the way. Are you visiting for the dance?”
“No,” she says quietly.
“Just moved to town?”
“Yes... Sort of...” Her nose scrunches as she flounders, her lips rolling inward. Trembling fingers fix her glasses, pushing them higher on her pert nose, and the nervous gesture is oddly endearing.
“How do you sort of move somewhere?” I tease, offering an encouraging smile. One that will hopefully relax the tenseness radiating from her body.
“Tomorrow’s the official move-in day. I just got into town this afternoon.”
“Wow, I'm surprised you have the energy to attend a dance after traveling.” Unless she isn't coming from very far.
Of course, I would’ve taken any excuse to avoid tonight’s festivities, even the twenty-minute drive from the ranch, if not for Samantha.
