Touched by Love (Love in Bloom: The Remingtons) Read online

  She’d expected as much, but ever since Boyd had asked her about how she was going to get home, she’d worried about a lot of other things. Like how she’d get around in her apartment and to and from work if she couldn’t walk.

  “How long will it be before I can walk on it?” she asked.

  “Well, that’s hard to say,” the doctor said. “It’s a mild sprain, and it should take only a day or two for the swelling to go down, but you’ll need to stay off of it during that time, until your ankle can bear partial weight. Boyd is familiar with the treatment—”

  Boyd gave her hand another reassuring squeeze.

  “You’ll follow what we call the ‘rice’ method,” Dr. B explained. “Rest, ice, compression, and elevate. Rest your ankle. Ice it a few times over the course of the next day or so to keep down the swelling. Compression helps control swelling and stabilizes your ankle to reduce the chance of further injury. We’ve got a brace for that, and while you’re off your feet, elevate your foot.”

  “So, are you talking days? Weeks?” Her pulse quickened with the realization that she might not be able to walk for a while.

  “Every injury is different, but yours is mild, so probably not long. You should be able to bear partial weight within a week. But like I said, it’s hard to tell for sure, and if you’re not careful, it could take as long as four to six weeks before you’re fully recovered.”

  “Four to six weeks?” She fisted her hands in the sheets. “I’ll have to learn to use a crutch and my cane. How will I get around until I can use crutches?”

  “I’ll help you,” Boyd offered with that sincere, sexy tone of his that made her stomach flutter and her brain turn to mush.

  She couldn’t afford to have mush brain at the moment. Her independence was on the line. “That’s nice of you, but I’m serious.”

  “So am I,” Boyd said.

  “Dr. B, what are my options?” She felt the energy in the room shift, the space between her and Boyd growing slightly colder. She was surprised at the flash of sadness she felt, but she pushed it away to focus on the doctor’s answer.

  “The options are a bit limited from a mobility standpoint. Once the swelling is down and you can stand putting a little weight on your ankle, wearing the brace, of course, you can try a walker in your home and a crutch with your cane outside. I would want you to practice using the crutch in your home first, so you don’t fall and further injure yourself. But until the swelling is down, over the next forty-eight hours, I suggest a wheelchair for getting around outside so there’s no chance of pressure on your ankle. I realize this is going to be an inconvenience—”

  As Dr. B explained about inconveniences and risks associated with walking too early on a sprained ankle, Janie fought back tears. She’d spent her life becoming independent, and she’d done a damn good job of it. Now she had to rely on someone else to push her around in a wheelchair? She tried to listen to the instructions for the brace they were fitting around her ankle, but her mind was a million miles away.

  “Janie? Honey? Are you all right?”

  The worry in Boyd’s voice pulled her back to the moment, and the endearment he used took her by surprise. It sounded so natural. He brushed her tears away with the pad of his thumb, another intimate gesture.

  “Yeah,” she managed, but the tears continued to fall.

  “You zoned out for a few minutes. Dr. B and Kelly have gone. It’s just you and me, and I can’t sit by and watch you cry. So I’m going to hold you, but not if you don’t want m—”

  She reached for him before he even finished speaking.

  “I’m sorry this happened to you.” He stroked her back as she cried.

  She clutched the back of his shirt as she soaked the front with her tears. “I’m not a crier,” she said vehemently between sobs.

  “I know. Anyone can see that these tears are just frustration and not weakness.”

  Despite herself, she smiled against his soft T-shirt. “Why are you so nice to me? You don’t even know me.”

  He drew away, and her arms slid from his back to his firm biceps. She sensed him studying her face. His finger moved over her cheek as he tucked her hair behind her ear. She’d never longed to see a man’s face before, but more than anything she wished she could see Boyd’s. His thoughtful tone made her wonder about his expression and what he saw when he looked at her. Did he see only a blind, injured girl? Or did he see, as she hoped he might, the woman he’d been getting to know? The woman who wasn’t as weak as she felt in that moment.

  “I know you’re a really nice, beautiful, and fiercely independent person who took a hell of a fall and now needs a little help. And I know I’m a guy with a few days off and not much else on my plate besides the desire to get to know you better.”

  Did guys really talk like that? “You sound like you walked out of one of my romance novels, which means you’re a real smooth talker. I’m blind. Not dumb. How do I know you’re not just trying to get laid?”

  He laughed. “Did you seriously just ask me that?”

  She swiped at her tears and gave him what she hoped was a damn right I did look.

  “Number one, no, I’m not trying to get laid. There are easier ways to do that. Number two, I have a sister, and she’s had it pretty rough with the guys in her life, so I know how not to treat a woman. And three, I still can’t believe you asked me that. What if I was a liar and getting laid was my goal? Do you think I’d tell you?”

  **

  BOYD’S PULSE RACED as he waited for Janie to say something. Anything. Her brow furrowed, as if she were weighing his answer.

  Her right hand slid from his arm to his chest. “May I touch you?” she asked, completely ignoring his question.

  “Janie.” He pressed his hand over hers, keeping it against his chest. What was it about her that made him want to see her smile and take away all her worries?

  “Of course you can touch me. But if your goal is to get laid, I’m not an easy mark. I like to get to know the women I sleep with. A little wining and dining is always nice, and maybe you could bring me flowers.”

  She playfully swatted him and, finally, her lips curved up in a smile. Boy did he love her smile.

  “I just want to see what you look like,” she explained.

  “Go ahead, honey. Touch me, but don’t get too frisky. I’m not sure Dr. B would like that.”

  “Oh, I think Dr. B would like it, actually. At least the doctors in the story I’m going to write would.” Her hands moved over his chest. “Your heart is beating fast. Are you nervous?”

  “A little.” Boyd tried not to focus on how gentle her touch was, or the way she licked her lips as her fingers trailed over his pecs. But it was impossible to ignore the way he felt when she wasn’t making witty remarks, but concentrating so hard he could practically see her creating a mental image of his body.

  What was she thinking as her hands moved up the thick column of his neck and lingered over his Adam’s apple? Her luscious lips were barely parted, and as her fingers climbed over the underside of his jaw, across his unshaven cheeks, she swallowed hard. Was that a good sign? Could she feel how attracted to her he was? As her fingers grazed his cheekbones and slid up beside his eyes, could she sense that he wanted to tell her he wasn’t anything like most guys? That he was good, and honest, and that he lived his life in an honorable way? If she could see him, would she have seen that in his eyes? He kept those things about himself private, opting to give off a not-interested vibe, but with Janie he was pretty sure she’d have seen right through that.

  She exhaled loudly as she touched his dark brows.

  “May I…” She licked her lips again, pausing just long enough to cause a stir low in his gut. “I want to touch your hair.”

  “Yes. Anything.” He sounded breathless, unrecognizable to himself. Jesus. What was she doing to him?

  She pushed her fingers through the short cropped sides of his hair, then into the long, tousled top that he’d barely had time to towel
dry that morning before the alarm sounded at the firehouse and they’d raced out to a fire.

  When she moved her fingers from his hair, she was trembling, and so was he. Her touch left him aching for more of her. Not just in a physical way, but to know what made her so strong that she could face this crazy city on her own instead of living in a quiet town where subways and crowds weren’t part of the equation. He watched her gaze drop, and he wondered how all that internal strength could be wrapped up in such delicate beauty.

  She sighed. “Yes.”

  “Yes?” Had he missed something? Spoken without knowing it?

  “I think if getting laid was your only goal you’d tell me.” She lifted her gaze, and though he knew she couldn’t see him, he swore she could not only see his physical being, but right through to his soul.

  He cleared his throat, trying to get his brain to cooperate and his body to settle down. “You can tell all that from touching me? You must have Spidey senses.”

  “My senses are the same as yours, but you use sight before everything else. I use my hearing first, sometimes my sense of smell. You can tell a lot about a person without ever seeing them.” She said this all as a matter of fact, but when she continued speaking, her tone became warmer, more intense. “Touching you was more for me to get a sense of your physical being than to determine if I could trust you. I wouldn’t have left work with you if I didn’t trust you.”

  “How did you know you could trust me? We’ve only spoken in passing.” He really wanted to know. He assessed people by what he saw in their eyes, how they carried themselves. But Janie couldn’t see any of that.

  “I can’t explain it. The few times we’d talked at the office you were always nice. Flirty, but never inappropriate. And when you found me at the subway, it was everything you said and did.” She fidgeted with the seam of her pants.

  Boyd wasn’t very good at keeping secrets from people he cared about, and he wanted to be honest with Janie. “I didn’t really have a date tonight,” he confessed.

  “Oh. Maybe I shouldn’t trust you. Why did you tell me you did? So you wouldn’t have to go to the bar if I was going?” She drew back, and he gave her that space willingly, feeling like a heel for lying to her, even though it wasn’t meant maliciously.

  “No. Definitely not. You’re gorgeous, and sweet, and smart, and a wiseass, but hey, I happen to like that. I was embarrassed that it was Friday night and I was going home to read.”

  “Seriously? That’s what I had planned before we made our bet. So does that make me a loser?”

  He smiled and couldn’t resist touching her cheek, because when he did, she smiled, and he wanted to see that smile awfully bad.

  “Not at all. It makes you even more attractive. There’s something else.”

  “Oh great, you’re gay, and now you want me to write a gay romance?”

  “If only it were that easy. No.” He drew in a deep breath and let the truth flow. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to you. So if that’s a problem, you should probably tell me now.”

  “Do you want to change your earlier answer about your goal?”

  A laugh slipped out before he could stop it. “No. I can assure you that getting laid is never a goal of mine.”

  “Oh.” Her smile faded and her lower lip came out in that impressively sexy pout women probably practiced to perfection. “There goes my idea of making you a romance hero in my book.”

  “Really? Romance heroes’ goals are to get laid? That seems pretty shallow. I told you those books were crap. I’m going to introduce you to real writing.”

  “Um, no thanks to the sci-fi. And sex isn’t their only goal, but it’s on their mind when they’re with the women they’re attracted to.”

  He scrubbed a hand down his face, completely baffled. “Is this a test? Because I feel like I’m failing miserably.”

  “No test,” she said with a slight lift of her chin. “Just sharing information. Can you please hand me my cane?”

  He handed her the cane, wondering what he’d said that made her go from teasing to serious so quickly. Did she think it was okay if he was having sexual thoughts about her? Was she disappointed that he hadn’t admitted to them?

  Kelly pushed a wheelchair through the curtains. “All right, Janie. Your ride has arrived, and I assume you’ll have Boyd as your chauffer tonight?”

  Janie barely stifled a groan. “I have to leave in a wheelchair?”

  “Come on. It’ll be fun,” Boyd urged. “Besides, it’s either that or a piggyback.”

  “Damn,” Kelly said. “I’d take that offer. Strong man like Boyd?” She waggled her eyebrows and handed him Janie’s discharge papers.

  “Okay, okay. Enough, Kel. Janie, I’ll put your discharge papers in your bag.”

  “Believe it or not,” Janie said, “I’d much prefer the piggyback to the wheelchair.”

  “If we didn’t have rules about those things, I’d help you mount him, but…” Kelly’s blue eyes lit up with the innuendo.

  “Christ, Kel. Get outta here, will you?”

  “Aw, sugar. Did I embarrass you?” She bumped him with her shoulder. “You should be proud, but you’re such a prude. See, Janie? Sweet ’n’ sexy. Great combo.”

  “Get outta here, will you?” Boyd gave Kelly a friendly shove through the curtains, glad to see Janie smiling again. “Christ, you’d think she was a dating service.”

  Janie shifted to the edge of the bed. “She really likes you.”

  “I’ve worked part-time at the hospital for years. She’s a good friend and an excellent nurse, when she’s not giving me a hard time.” He sat beside Janie and took her hand again. He liked holding her hand. After months of fighting his feelings for her, he was finding it hard to keep his distance.

  “Janie, I’m a nice guy. I want to help you get home safely, but if it makes you uncomfortable, I can call my buddy Cash, and I’m sure his wife would be happy to come by and take you home.”

  Frustration crossed her face and filled her voice. “Do you have any idea how much it sucks to have to rely on someone else to get to my apartment? Any idea how long and hard I worked to be able to navigate this city alone?”

  “I can only imagine, which is why I don’t want to be another thing that makes you uncomfortable. Do you want me to call Cash?”

  She was quiet for a long moment. Boyd hoped to hell she wouldn’t send him packing.

  “No. There’s no need to bother your friend or his wife. Besides, Kelly saw me with you. If I end up dead, she’ll know you were the last one with me.”

  “Wow, you’re a real confidence builder.”

  “I’m kidding. I’m just frustrated by all of this. If you sprain your ankle, you whip out crutches and go about your life. It’s a little more complicated for me.”

  “I know. I get it, and I’m sorry. But let’s make the best of it. Want to lean on me to get into the chair, or do you want me to lift you into it?”

  “Can you please lift me? My balance will be off without using my foot.”

  He wrapped one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees, lifting her easily into his arms. Her arms circled his neck, and he saw her struggling not to smile.

  “It’s a good thing you can’t see me right now,” he said, “because I’m grinning like a fool.”

  “You are brutally honest, aren’t you?” She ran her fingers down his arm, sending waves of heat through him. “And strong.”

  “Honest, yeah. Strong?” He shrugged as he placed her carefully in the wheelchair. He helped her lift the footplate and situate her ankle. Then he knelt beside her and held her hand again. “Close your eyes.”

  “Kinda silly, don’t you think?” she asked.

  “Just do it for me, please? Even if it’s silly.”

  She sighed, but the edges of her lips curved up. “No one ever asks me to close my eyes.”

  “You’re obviously not hanging out with the right people.” The bruise on her cheek sent a shock of pain
to his chest, heightening his desire to help her feel more comfortable. “Closing your eyes is like letting everything else go. Even if you can’t see when they’re open, doesn’t it feel like you’re blocking things out more purposely?”

  “I swear Kiki must have hired you to watch over me this weekend, right? Because only she would have the guts to say something like that to me.”

  “Kiki?”

  “My best friend since third grade. She’s the one who called earlier. We live next door to each other.”

  “I like her already. Okay, ready?” When she nodded, eyes still closed, he said, “Imagine this chair is your chariot. You’re a queen, and I’m a fat, sloppy guy you can boss around.”

  She laughed. “Do you have to be sloppy? Can’t I picture you the way you are and still boss you around?”

  “Well, yeah. But I didn’t want to distract you from your chariot ride.”

  “I like the distraction,” she said.

  Good to know. “Then you’ll love how I keep you distracted during the cab ride home.”

  Her mouth dropped open and embarrassment flushed her cheeks.

  “Do all romance writers have dirty minds?” he teased. “Because I meant by talking to you.”

  “I wasn’t…I…”

  He chuckled, folded her cane, and set it in her lap. “Do you want to hold your bag or would you like me to carry it?”

  She reached a hand up for the bag. “You’re a brat.” She put her cane inside the bag.

  “Hey, at least I took your mind off of the cab ride.”

  As he pushed the wheelchair toward the exit, she said, “I really don’t want to ride in a cab.”

  He settled his hand on her shoulder, and when they reached the exit, he knelt beside her again, struck by the worry lines that had formed on her forehead.

  “I was kidding, Janie. I’m not going to try anything.”

  “I know that. I just…” She clutched her bag tighter. “I wasn’t kidding about the cabs here making me really uncomfortable.”

  He pulled out his cell phone. “You know what? They make me uncomfortable, too. Hang tight. Let me see what I can arrange.” Boyd made a few calls, and after pulling a few strings, he arranged to borrow the wheelchair for forty-eight hours.