“How do you mean?” I heard Jake ask.
I couldn’t help but smile. “She’s my friend. She’s always happy to see me, she doesn’t care if I’m too skinny or too fat or if I’m in a bad mood or crazy busy with work.” I paused and then finally looked up at him. I was surprised to see he’d closed the distance between us considerably. “She may not look beautiful and perfect on the outside, but I assure you, that’s all she is on the inside.”
I was surprised when his big fingers came up to stroke over Boo’s head. She growled a little, her wary eyes on him, but she didn’t snap at him like I was expecting.
“Well, Princess Cujo, it seems I stand corrected,” he murmured. He was talking to the dog, but his eyes were on me, and I felt a shiver run through my body. We held there for what seemed like the longest time before he said, “Have a seat and let me look at that burn. Can I get you something to drink?”
“No thanks, I’m good.” I put Boo down and made my way over to sit at the table, glancing toward the small kitchen visible through an arched doorway. I saw one utilitarian white dishtowel draped neatly over the oven door handle. The counters were spotless and there wasn’t a single dirty dish to be found.
Jake shuffled past me to retrieve a black canvas tote bag from a cubby under the counter. When he returned to the table and opened it, I saw it was an extensive first aid kit, the type an EMT worker or doctor might have on hand.
“Get lots of injuries up here?” I said in an attempt to keep things from getting awkward… not to mention I kind of hoped talking might also keep me from reaching out and grabbing him by the back of the head and laying the mother of all kisses on him. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d wanted someone this bad this fast.
“Mm,” he grunted. His fingers rifled through the bag in search of specific items until he found what he was looking for. He opened a gauze package and a bottle of sterile water before sliding on a pair of gloves.
Within moments, Jake had a cool, wet compress held gently against the burn on the inside of my wrist.
“I’m such an idiot,” I muttered. “I’m sorry I’m so high maintenance. I really can take care of myself, you know.”
“Is that right?”
My eyes jerked up to glare at him, but I realized he was smiling at me–teasing instead of judging. His eyes were a unique kind of gray that seemed to vary with his mood. Right now, they were soft like the silver of an early morning frost. Quiet. Intense. Promising.
Okay, maybe I was making that last one up. I was quickly realizing the guy was about as open and friendly as an underripe pineapple.
I let out a breath. “I guess what I meant to say is… I’d like to take care of myself. You don’t have to feel like I’m some helpless kid who needs you to come running every time I—”
“Almost burn your house down?” He looked up from the compress and raised an eyebrow. “Run your car off the road? Slip and fall on the ice because you’re wearing goddamned ballet shoes?”
“I’ll have you know those were Karl Lagerfeld Vans,” I corrected. “His take on the vintage checkerboard design is a classic.”
“I don’t know what half those words mean,” Jake said, removing the compress and opening a tube of some kind of salve. “I’m putting on a hydrocolloid dressing that you’ll have to replace in a few days. It should keep the burn from getting infected, but if you see any redness coming from under the dressing or you start to run a temperature, come find me, okay?”
His hands managed the cleanup and bandaging as if he’d been doing it all his life. Jake’s movements were efficient right up until he stripped off his gloves and threw them and the bandage wrappers in the trash. But once he returned to the chair next to mine and took my arm in his hands again… the touch changed from utilitarian to… something more.
Or maybe that was what I wanted to believe. God, I hoped he didn’t notice the tremors that were coursing up and down my arm. I studied him for several beats, but he seemed completely oblivious.
Damn. Straight as a fucking arrow.
Just my luck. I was finally feeling something more than just a little bit of meaningless lust and I wouldn’t even get the chance to explore it.
Work, Oz. You’re here to work, remember?
I told my inner voice to buzz off and said, “You seem to know a lot about this stuff,” in the hopes of getting my bearings before I did something really stupid and asked Jake if he’d ever thought of kissing a guy to see if he might like it. “Are you an EMT or something?” I figured if he was a doctor, he would have mentioned it by now or I would have seen evidence of it with his comings and goings. From what I’d been able to tell, if he had a job, it was part-time only. His vehicle was in his driveway too much to account for the rigorous hours of a doctor.