“Sure thing.” Chase grabbed two water bottles and a fruit punch Gatorade before shutting the fridge and holding up the drinks. “I’ll bring you an extra water in case you want it. We’ll need to keep ourselves hydrated for this intense hydrotherapy sensation.” His smirk told her he was teasing.
“Intense, eh?” Lizzy found her gaze dropping to his lips. She liked his lips and the shadow of a beard on his jawline, a few shades darker than his hair. How ‘intense’ might a kissing session be with this thoughtful and appealing man? Her neck and cheeks predictably heated up. “I love this idea. Let’s do it!” She punched her Propel up in the air.
He laughed.
She’d been referring to the water therapy, but his gaze dropped to her lips and lingered there as if the ‘idea’ was kissing and they should try it out right here in the kitchen. He moistened his own lips, and she grew hot all over. She had a sudden vision of him pinning her against the countertop and taking command of her mouth.
Oh, wow. She needed to move.
Lizzy stutter stepped away from him. Chase shifted all three of the plastic bottles to his left hand—he had nice and large hands—and wrapped his right arm around her waist, drawing her against his side. “Careful now.”
She was consistently making a fool of herself, but Chase didn’t seem put off by it. What would he do if she revealed her disability, her scar, and her past, which she feared was poorer and rougher than Chase could relate to? Yet he’d had a career in special ops for the military and now worked as a policeman. Maybe he’d seen things throughout the world that would make him more understanding.
All of those worries were overshadowed by the length of his firm body pressed against hers, especially as he had no shirt on.It was all she could do to resist touching his firm, bare skin with her fingertips.
He escorted her across the main area and to the stairs. Lizzy enjoyed his touch. That concerned her. She had to regain some composure and keep her distance. They didn’t know each other, and she couldn’t keep letting her guard down.
She pulled from his arm, grabbed the handrail, and cautiously made her way down the stairs. Her legs ached. She needed to rest and relax. Hopefully the water therapy accomplished that, though she didn’t know how to let her guard down with Chase looking so appealing in his swimming suit and her worrying about her knees turning in and the knife scar on her chest being revealed in her swimming suit.
Lizzy made it to the basement and walked to a chaise lounge. Should she take her T-shirt and shorts off? Her body trembled at that terrifying idea. She sank onto the chair, set the Propel to the side, and peered up at Chase.
He smiled gently, his blue eyes filled with worry. “Something’s bothering you. Can you share so I can help?” He set his drinks on the nearby table and held up both hands, making all those lovely muscles flex again. “You don’t have to share if you don’t want to, of course.”
Lizzy wanted to cry. Not because she was embarrassed or overwrought, but because he was so kind. Was he genuine? She swallowed and admitted, “I don’t want you to see me in a swimming suit.”
If he thought her confidence was pathetic or that was an odd thing to say, he didn’t express either. He simply nodded and then looked around. “I can put a blindfold on, but then you’d have to lead me around.” He smiled broadly as if he liked the sound of that.
“Are you serious?” she asked, shocked he would willingly volunteer to wear a blindfold.
“Sure.” He lifted and lowered his broad shoulders. “Whatever makes you more comfortable.”
“Who volunteers to be blindfolded?”
“Me, apparently.” His grin was wide and perfect, but his gaze was tender and cautious.
Lizzy wasn’t willing to show her scars yet. She could either give up on swimming tonight and make Chase worry about her even more, swim in her T-shirt and shorts, or blindfold him. He seemed sincere. If he was willing to be blindfolded to help her feel comfortable, she appreciated the gesture. No matter how incredible he was acting, she had to determine if he was good all the way through like he seemed.
She swallowed against the tightness in her throat. Pushing to her feet, she said, “Please turn around.”
He nodded and turned away. She admired the muscles in his back. Again she had to resist touching that smooth, rippled with muscle skin. She couldn’t let herself be drawn to him as quickly as she had Darren.
Sliding the cotton and Lycra blend T-shirt over her head, she eased close to him. He smelled like musk and vanilla. She folded the shirt and then wrapped it gently around his eyes, tying it securely at the back of his head.
“Is that too tight?” she asked, her voice coming out in a husky whisper.
Why tying her shirt around his eyes felt intimate, she couldn’t say, but she knew why it felt meaningful. He wasn’t going to force her to show her scars before she was comfortable. Chase appeared as considerate as his friends had claimed.
“It’s good,” he said. “The perfect blindfold. Thank you.”
He was thanking her? The tears were right at the surface now. “Thankyou,” she whispered, meaning it from the bottom of her heart.
“Happy to,” he murmured back.
She walked around in front of him.
“I can hear you,” he said, lifting a hand and barely missing her arm, “but I can’t see you. You’re going to guide me around like a blind puppy dog, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
