Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Julian
Unable to stop my body’s forward momentum, I know I’m going to fall right into her.
I reach forward with both arms, one snakes around her waist to hold her upright while my other arm reaches for the counter to brace myself so I can keep most of my weight off her.
My body curls around her hunched form, and I am immediately aware of how soft and small her body feels against mine.
I lean my head into the crook of her neck, intoxicated by her scent as I inhale her hair, but more so by the unique smell—fruity with a hint of mint—where her neck meets her shoulder.
My cataloging of her body and smell is quickly interrupted when whatever rammed into me falls against the back of my knees. The weight sends one leg forward, stepping on her left foot. I watch in horror as her ankle rolls.
The yelp of pain that escapes the woman in my arms pierces my heart.
I’m quickly back on both feet and using my arm braced against the counter to right myself.
With my other arm around her waist, I help her into an upright position and steady her by turning her in my embrace.
Her beautiful face is contoured in pain, and she seems to be holding her breath as her eyes begin to water.
The coffee shop explodes with commotion. Employees and customers start standing to see what is happening at the counter, a few people rushing forward to offer any help they can.
“Nathan!” An embarrassed woman dashes forward and falls to her knees at our feet, gathering up a confused little boy sprawled on the floor, a scooter laying beside him. She begins apologizing profusely as I realize this is the pair from the street.
But in my single-mindedness, I block everything else out but my girl. I need to make sure I didn’t seriously injure her. Looking into her upturned face and fighting the pull of her expressive eyes threatening to take me under, I ask, “Are you okay?”
“It’s just my ankle—” she breaks off with a hiss as she attempts to put her weight on the injured foot.
That’s when I feel her arms clutching my waist. In the back of my mind, I delight in how she’s holding herself tighter to me.
I sweep her up into my arms bridal-style and carry her to a nearby vacant table, gently lowering her onto a chair.
Once she’s seated, I hook a foot around the leg of the other chair and pull it closer.
Squatting, I reach down and tenderly lift her injured foot to rest on the seat.
I look up into her watery eyes. “Can I take a look at your foot?”
We stare at each other for a moment before she slowly nods.
Gingerly pulling her sneaker and sock off, I see her toes have a sparkly purple polish that I find adorably sexy. Do I have a foot fetish? No, I don’t think so. But her foot? Yeah, I just might.
My eyes slide over her ankle, my fingers already probing the skin as gently as possible.
I’m not even on duty, but here I am slipping into doctor mode and giving this gorgeous woman a rapid exam in the middle of a coffee shop.
I notice her ankle is already swelling, but I don’t see or feel an obvious fracture.
As gentle as I try to be, she still flinches and my guilt intensifies.
“I don’t think anything is broken. But you’ll probably be in quite a bit of pain for a while.”
She opens her mouth to respond, but we’re interrupted. “Here’s some ice.”
The bored-looking employee from earlier hands me a bag of ice wrapped in a towel. I thank her, then turn back and gently mold it around her ankle.
“Thank you,” she whispers hoarsely, trying to cover her wince with a small smile.
“I’m really sorry. I tried to catch myself, but I guess I did a pretty lousy job of it,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. She isn’t actually crying, but I can tell she is still in quite a bit of pain.
“It wasn’t your fault. Just a little bad luck all around, I guess.” Her eyes look over my shoulder.
Twisting around, we both watch as the little boy and his mother walk toward us.
The little guy is wide-eyed and clinging to the woman’s side. Looking mortified and miserable, she softly says, “I’m so, so sorry to both of you. I was trying to keep the scooter away while we were inside, but my son is so fast. Please, forgive us. Are you badly hurt?”
“I think it’s just a twisted ankle, nothing a little rest and ice won’t fix.
It was an accident. Please don’t worry about it,” my injured beauty says, then she shifts to face the boy, grimacing as her ankle slides along the seat it’s resting on.
She tries to make eye contact with the little boy, rubbing his shoulder to reassure him.
“I hope you weren’t hurt when you fell.”
He sniffles and shakes his head against his mother’s leg. I see her put a little pressure on his back, causing him to look up. With a mother’s stare, she nods in our direction. The little boy glances back at us and hiccups out, “I—I'm sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
I smile at the mom and her son, reassuring them. “Be careful riding your scooter, little dude, and make sure you look where you’re going, alright?” I add on. As they walk away, I return my gaze to my girl, she’s watching them with a soft smile. “How are you really feeling?”
Her startled eyes shoot back to me, wide with surprise, and her cheeks begin to pinken again.
“It hurts a little when I rotate it, but otherwise it doesn’t feel too bad.
I’ll probably wrap it and try to keep my weight off it as much as I can.
I’m sure it'll feel better in a few days.” She looks down to my hand still lightly wrapped around her ankle, her lips curve into a more genuine, but bashful, smile.
“Thank you for, uh . . . helping me sit.”
Making a face, I say, “It was the least I could do after almost taking you down and hurting your ankle.” I remove my hand from her smooth but swollen skin, reaching out to shake her hand. “I’m Julian, by the way.”
Tentatively placing her hand in mine, she replies, “Leena.”
“Leena,” I repeat quietly. Her name on my lips feels like a reverently whispered prayer, the foundation of my soul feels the shift like moving tectonic plates.