“You’re in pretty good shape. Just a few sore spots on the pressure points. I’ll put this on, some Band-Aids, then wrap your foot in some gauze. Extra padding and your sock will stay clean.”
“This is going above and beyond,” she said, her voice unintentionally throaty.
He carried on with his task, his face a mask of concentration. “You like your job?”
“Very much. I work for a boutique hotel. I’m hoping to get into management eventually, but it’s a long ladder.”
“Worth it if you love it, I guess.” He placed a wider bandage on the arch of her foot, which ached less once he put on the cream.
“Do you love your work?”
Beckett looked up, grabbed another Band-Aid. “I work at a sporting goods store in Smile. I enjoy it a lot.” He ripped open the package, dabbed some ointment on it. “Actually, I have a chance to run my own, but it would mean moving a few hours away.”
Moving a pillow behind her back, she watched as he took care of the next sore spot. “Is it a chance you’re going to take?”
When his gaze caught hers, she sucked in a sharp breath, the question feeling much larger than she had intended.
“I don’t mind taking chances,” he said quietly, one hand resting on her ankle, one on her foot. “But I’m not sure yet. I’m trying to weigh my options.”
She nodded, words stuck in her throat while something different lodged in her chest. Something a lot like longing.
He slipped her sock back on, lifted her other foot.
“What are your options?”
Beckett pulled her second sock off, his lips firming into a straight line.
“I’m sorry. That’s not really any of my business.” She felt the urge to yank her foot back.
Shaking his head, he cut her a quiet smile. It felt intimate. Like he didn’t give it to everyone.
“No. It’s okay. You’re really easy to talk to. It’s kind of dangerous.”
She laughed, gestured to her feet. “Yeah, that’s me. All kinds of scary until you put a slight incline in my way.”
His thumb dug into her arch as he turned her foot a bit and it felt so good she almost groaned out loud. “It was a good incline. It’s not surprising you’re sore. You should have told me you hadn’t hiked before.”
“I should have, but I figured Bloomingdale’s and Macy’s on Black Friday when the escalators aren’t working counted.”
Another laugh that sent shots of lust straight to her belly.
“It should. For hiking and bravery. Back to your question, my other options are staying at Brian’s in Smile while I keep helping my brother. Or I could take an entirely new path, open a bike rental shop over there. It would have tandem bikes, singles, even four-seaters for families.” He shrugged, suggesting it wasn’t all that important, but his tone said otherwise.
“That one lets you stay close and do something you like. Or it sounds like you like it. I’m not into that kind of torture, but to each their own,” she said, clamping her jaw closed when his touch tickled.
“You’re right about that. Macy’s and Bloomingdale’s sound terrifying.”
“Well, if you ever try it, I will be there after, ready to take care of your feet and bring you a beer.”
He grinned, finished up, and closed the medical kit. “Is that your way of asking for a beer?”
She laughed again. She had done that more in two days here than she had in weeks and weeks with Emmett. Something to dissect tonight while she stared at the ceiling wondering how to build the courage to ask Beckett if he’d be at all interested in a short-term thing.
“No,” she said. She picked up the Band-Aid wrappers, rose from the couch, and did her best to walk normally. It was better, but it still hurt like crazy.
He joined her in the kitchen, washing his hands, then passing herthe towel when she washed hers. It was then that she noticed the small board of snacks: strawberries, crackers, some cheese, almonds, peanuts, pretzels, and grapes. Her chest constricted like she’d tied a rope around it and pulled.
When was the last time Emmett had done something sweet for her? Why had she been okay with so much less than she deserved?
