“Mm-hm,” she mumbled doubtfully. She went to the bathroom to grab the first-aid stuff, and when she returned, Eddie was standing, eyeing every last item on that bulletin board.
It was the same junk she’d had in high school. A Hello Kitty postcard. A 13. 1 sticker from when she’d run a half marathon in Sonoma. A picture of her in her cheerleading uniform. She’d been meaning to go through it with a big trash bag, but there was never any time.
“I didn’t know you climbed. ”
She came up behind him to study the
picture of her on an indoor rock wall. “Oh, that. That’s from a couple years ago. I sent it to Mom, and for some reason she hung it up. ” She did a little self-effacing shrug—parents could be embarrassing, even if you were twenty-eight. “It was from a team-building thing at my old company. ”
“Let me see. ” He shocked her by taking one of her hands in his. Goose bumps shivered up her arms at the feel of those warm, large hands enveloping hers. “They don’t look like they belong to a climber. ”
She tugged away. “I’m not a real climber,” she said, though it was kind of a lie. It’d been one of her favorite workouts. It was indoors and perfectly safe, but she found such joy in it nonetheless. She was always so regimented in her life, and dangling high above the ground was the one time she felt free. Felt dangerous. “I used to go to a climbing gym in the city. No big deal. ”
“Seems like a big deal to me. ” He turned his attention to an old shot from her high school cheerleading days. “Not as big a deal as this, though. ” He leaned closer, grinning. “God, I had such fantasies about you in that little skirt. ”
She plucked the picture from the wall and put it facedown.
He turned back to her and suddenly he was right there. “You always were a hottie, Laura Bailey. ”
The compliment overwhelmed her. There was a depth to his gaze that suggested he spoke to so much more than her looks—that she was a hottie because of those photos and trinkets and purple bedspread.
It felt like she’d inadvertently spilled a secret she hadn’t meant to tell. She felt vulnerable, and vulnerability made her nervous.
Instead of responding, she opened the bottle of hydrogen peroxide and soaked a cotton ball with it. “Give me your arm. ” She dabbed the peroxide with abandon.
“Still are,” he said in that voice…that voice he got. “Hotter than ever. ”
She ignored him and dabbed harder. “This doesn’t look so bad. ” Now that he’d stopped bleeding, she could tell the cut wasn’t nearly as horrific as all that blood had implied.
“Hey, that stuff stinks. Whoa”—he flinched—“and stings. ”
He tried to pull away, but she held on. “It’s good for you. Now stand still. ”
She finished with the cotton ball and felt his eyes on her as she put on the antibiotic ointment. “Maybe you should have your brother check it out,” she said. “It might scar. ”
She was liking him too much. Liking this too much.
“I thought women went for men with scars. ” The moment she sealed the last Band-Aid on his skin, he brought his hand to her face, tucking her hair behind her ear. “How about you, Laura? You always liked the bad boys. ”
She ignored the comment and instead backed away from his touch. “Be sure to keep it covered. ”
She hadn’t wanted this. She didn’t want a boyfriend, least of all Eddie. They’d known each other just too long for this not to end with either a ring or a breakup. In her mind, in this small town, both options were completely unpalatable.
“If it got infected, you’d have a big problem,” she said tersely.
“Laura, babe. Look at me. ” He cupped her cheek.
She held her breath. Looking at him was a bad idea. It was all too easy to lose her way in those blue eyes.
“I’ve got only one problem at the moment,” he said.
“What?”
“I really need you to kiss me again. ”
Twenty-four
Laura knew she desired Eddie—what hot-blooded American woman wouldn’t? But how badly did she want him? “I need to think. ”