Page 7 of One Weekend On Mackinac Island
“I’m not saying they did it for sure, but out of all our friends here today, they are the only one with a history of mean pranks.”
Kat's gaze, fixed on mine with unwavering blue eyes, held a guarded expression, as if she were carefully gauging my understanding of her history, seeking to determine how much I knew. My curiosity about that day when Scott and Stephanie had nearly drowned her was intense, but I held back, knowing that prying into such a traumatic experience would likely wound her.
“Again, what would they have to gain?” she countered.
“What do they ever gain from the things they do?”
“You may have a point.”
That made me grin, a wide, happy grin that stretched my cheeks. “Will wonders never cease? Did Kat Larsen just admit I was right about something?”
She rolled her eyes, the familiar gesture laden with a heavy dose of long-suffering patience. “Oh, shut up.”
“Seriously,” I continued to tease, taking hold of her hand as we began to walk again. “We should mark this down in our calendars. You agreed with me for once. This is a monumental day.”
“You’re full of yourself. I said you had a point. Not that I agreed with you.”
“Nope. That’s not how I heard it,” I stated. Our banter remained a source of joy for me, and I found myself cherishing our playful exchanges more and more. “I’m glad you finally recognize my genius.”
“Oh, shut up.” She lunged forward, intending to hit me on the arm, but tripped, landing in my arms with a surprised gasp. I caught her against my chest, one arm wrapped around her waist as the other steadied the bike. I held her close, my chest pressed against hers, feeling her soft breath against the skin of my neck. The scent of her hair filled my senses. A flowery perfume, its scent like a burst of summer blooms, that I could never get enough of.
God, she felt good in my arms. We’d hugged a lot over the years, but I never allowed myself to appreciate the feeling of her in my arms. At that moment, I was completely captivated by her and couldn’t resist taking in every detail, committing her essence to memory.
I watched as her gaze slowly moved up the column of my throat, lingering on my lips before finally meeting my eyes, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths. Like a slow, deliberate flame, the intensity of her gaze burned, and the air crackled with unspoken tension.
Fuck, I wanted to kiss her.
Her hands went to my chest, the warmth of her palms penetrating my shirt and seeping into my skin. I wondered if she could feel my heart pounding beneath her hands. I was just about to throw caution to the wind and lean down to finally taste her lips when she pushed herself away from me.
“Sorry about that,” she whispered. She dipped her chin and turned quickly away, trying to hide the blush that had colored her cheeks, but I had already caught a glimpse of it. A faint, delicate pink that made her even more beautiful.
She took a step back, but her knee buckled. I caught her before she could do even more damage to herself. I directed her to a knee-high stone wall, saying, “Let me take a look at that knee,” so I could examine her injured leg properly. I made her sit on it and pulled my pack off my back.
Her wound was easily accessible due to the denim shorts she wore. The issue lay in the shortness of the shorts, which showcased the extensive length of her tanned and toned legs, making them impossible to miss. And my cock took notice if the tightening in my own shorts was any indication. I swallowed a groan and pulled out the first aid kit I never went anywhere without, tending her wound with a practiced hand. The Army had taught me well.
The antiseptic wipe in my hand worked to sterilize the wound, but I was unable to ignore the weight of her eyes upon me, their intensity conveying a silent but deliberate assessment of my actions.
“What?” I asked when I couldn’t take her quiet scrutiny a moment longer.
“You’re very good at that.”
I let out a low grunt.
“You are,” she insisted, interpreting my grunt to mean I didn’t believe her. “Did you learn this skill in the Army?”
“I was my team’s medic,” I confessed.
She tilted her head as she considered my words. “Did you like it?”
That was an interesting question that no one had ever asked me before. And a loaded one as well. The role of medic came with all the ups and downs one would imagine. But for me, I felt a sense of great satisfaction when I could do my job and do it well. Patching up my teammates, my brothers, gave me a sense of purpose that was currently lacking in my life.
“I did.”
“You miss it,” she asserted, her words carrying a conviction that seemed to stem from an unspoken understanding, gleaned from the subtle inflections in my voice.
I kept my mouth shut. I did miss it, but I couldn’t go down that road. There was too much baggage to unpack in that regard. But that didn’t stop Kat.
“You’re working at your dad’s hardware store, right?”
