3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Mason
“Sir? Can you hear me?”
The voice is sweet and soft in my ear. I open my eyes, searching for the woman who spoke. I'm in the forest, flat on my back. Dark clouds boil overhead. Jesus, everything hurts.
I remember falling down the embankment, then forcing myself to my feet to get home, and... falling onto something soft.
I must have moaned, because she says, “Oh, thank goodness.”
Fingers gently stroke across my brow. I tilt my chin and realize that the woman is above me, and my head is in her lap.
She's pretty, with brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, though some has come loose, making her curls dance around her face in the breeze. Her eyes are hazel—more gold than green—with thick, dark lashes. Her cheeks are round with a cute little nose and pillowy lips that begged to be kissed.
Strike that. She's not just pretty, she's gorgeous.
And familiar, though I can’t place her.
“You were out for a few minutes. I was so worried you wouldn't wake up.” She traces my temple in a light touch. “You're leg is bleeding, and your ankle might be broken. It's swelling. I think you're hurt pretty bad.” When I don’t respond right away, she adds, “At least you’re alive. Now we have to figure out how to get you out of here before the storm hits.”
I blink at her. In my muddled state, I don’t understand why she’s out here helping me. She looks like the type of woman to curl up with a book and a cup of tea, not trip over wounded men in the woods.
Books… the library. It clicks. This is the woman I saw at the bank yesterday.
What the hell is she doing out here?
Her eyebrows scrunch together when all I do is stare at her. “Please don’t have a concussion,” she says under her breath, stroking my brow again. “Hey? Are you with me? Did you hit your head?”
Nitro whines and scoots forward on his belly to lay his head on my chest. With effort, I raise my hand to pet his head, letting him know I'll be fine. “Not bad. My ankle is sprained.” I struggle up to one elbow, plant a hand on the ground, and manage to sit up.
“Okay, that's good. Do you think you can stand? We can't stay here.”
Fuck. I remember now. The damn dog chased something into the woods. I couldn't leave him out during the storm, which is how I ended up in this mess. It's not his fault. Not really. I should have had him on the leash. The woman is right. We have to get inside. “I’ll try.”
She wraps an arm around my waist. One plump breast presses against me and the spicy-sweet scent of roses fills my senses. I turn my head slightly, my mouth an inch from her temple, and breathe deeper. Who is this woman?
“Ready?” she asks, pressing closer, like she could actually help me stand.
“What's the plan here?”
“Step one, get you standing. Step two, avoid bears. Step three, don't die in the woods.”
I was being sarcastic because she's so tiny. That she has a plan, even though it isn't much of one, surprises me. I'm almost afraid to ask if she has a Plan B. We might be here awhile. I grunt with the effort to get my legs under me while not crushing her with my weight.
Nitro jumps to his feet, eyes locked on me.
Finally, I'm on my feet and wish to hell I wasn't. There's a gash on my leg that's soaking my pants with blood, my left ankle is swollen, and my head hurts like a motherfucker.
My rescuer slides her arm around my waist.
I try not to lean on her, but with pain screaming through my ankle and thigh, it's damn near impossible.
“Oh God. You're huge,” she whispers, sounding half panicked, half in awe. Like she just found Bigfoot—and next to her, I am. Her head barely reaches my shoulder.
“Thanks,” I mutter dryly. “You're...” beautiful... “determined.”
“You're hurt. I'm not going to leave you.” She sounds affronted. Like I'm questioning her character. “Plus, you’re my only way off this mountain.”
“You could leave me. You should . I can make it home.”
“I can’t. I got separated from my hiking group and turned around. Everything looks the same out here.”
A muscle in my jaw twitches. She’s out here alone because she’s lost. What would have happened to her if she hadn’t found me? “I'll guide you back to the trailhead so you can get out of the weather.”
“You must have hit your head harder than you thought. I'm not leaving. Now, do you have any idea where we are? Is there a ranger station or something around? I have a map, but it won't help.”
“Why not?” I’ve come to know this area well enough over the last couple of months, so I don't need the map. Her certainty that it wouldn't help intrigues me.
She pulls one of the trail pamphlets out of her pocket, shakes it open with one hand, and holds it up to show the various trails marked in different colors. “It's not a map! It's colored spaghetti. No one can read this.”
I bark a laugh, then hiss when my thigh protests. “Fair enough. My cabin is this way. I’ll get patched up, and take you back to your car.”
Her shoulders sag. “Sure. Lead the way.”
She sounds disappointed. Because we're going to my cabin or I'm taking her to her car? Her chin is tucked down, so I can't read her expression.
My rescuer is a mystery. She's wearing a thin jacket and hiking boots with hardly a scuff on them. A backpack hangs off one shoulder, so flat there can't be anything in it. She might be dressed like a hiker, but it's clear she isn't. Or at least not a seasoned one. Why is she out here?
I'm about to ask when several fat raindrops land on my neck and shoulders. Questions can wait. I take a step forward, testing my weight on my swollen ankle. Pain shoots up my leg to my injured thigh, and I grit my teeth, staggering a step. She clutches me with both hands to steady me. One palm slides under my shirt and across my skin.
We both freeze.
She licks her lips. “You're really warm.”
“You're not.” I place my palm over hers, warming her cold hands. She smells so good and feels perfect against my side. Why? What is it about this woman that makes me want to pull her closer? Tuck her against my chest, and hold her close? That's the last thing I want.
I told Derek this morning that a woman wasn't in the cards for me. Yet here's the lost little lamb that wasn't supposed to be wandering in my woods. It's unsettling.
Right then, the skies open up. Fat rain drops turn into a cold shower, beating down on us and soaking through our clothes. Bella presses closer to me, as if seeking my warmth. The jacket she's wearing looks too thin, and I doubt she's wearing enough layers. I need to get her out of this weather.
My next step is steadier, but each time I place weight on my foot, I have to lean on her like a human crutch. Every step is agony, and not just from the fire in my ankle or throb in my thigh. I've had far worse. It's the feel of her. So small, soft, and sweet, tucked against my side like she belongs there.
“You got a name?” I ask to distract myself.
“Bella. Bella Brown.” Her breath puffs white in the chilly air.
“Mason Walker.” I nod to the German Shepherd trotting along beside us. “That's Nitro.”
“He introduced himself when I was trying to wake you, after we uh... crashed.”
I have a vague memory of falling a second time right before I passed out and landing on something soft. Shit. “I didn't hurt you, did I?”
Bella shakes her head, rain dripping from her ponytail. “No. Though I thought you were a bear at first. I was going to chuck my peanut butter granola bar at you and make a run for it.” Her lips twist in a tiny smile.
Good thing I wasn't. She would have been bear chow. “If that granola is up for grabs, I'll take it.” I didn't have breakfast before chasing a dog through the woods.
Bella laughs, her body rubbing against mine. She digs the bar out of her pocket with her free hand, grinning up at me. “Here.”
I'm struck by the sparkle in her eyes. The way she looks at me as if I'm not broken. Just a man who needs her and her granola. I finish the bar off in two bites and stick the wrapper in my pocket.
We walk in silence for several more minutes. I want to ask her about herself, but all my energy is going into staying upright.
“I think I see a cabin through those trees. Is that it?” she asks, voice breathless as she points ahead.
I follow her motion and see home. Finally. “Yeah, that's it. Let's go, Nitro.” My dog zips ahead, running up the steps to the front porch.
We stagger up the steps. I dig the key out of my pocket, and manage to get the door open. Nitro pushes past us and makes a beeline for his water bowl, lapping it up like a dog that's been wandering in the desert for days. He shakes the water from his fur, spraying the kitchen, and curls up on his bed by the fireplace.
Bella drops her backpack on the floor and lets out a little sigh. The breathy sound cuts through the quiet. She's dripping wet, cold, and goddamn gorgeous. I have no business being anywhere near her.
“Where to?” she asks, looking up at me from where she's still tucked against my side. “Bed or the couch?”
“Couch.” I'm already fighting off the desire to follow the scent of roses along her skin and see where it leads. Getting her anywhere near my bed would break the thin threads of control I'm holding onto. I've never reacted this way to a woman. A concussion is the only explanation, and I don't know what to do about it.
I collapse on the couch, sinking into the cushions and try not to groan. “Thank you, Bella.”
She kneels down and starts unlacing my boots.
“You don't have to—”
Her golden eyes flick up to meet mine, then away. “I know. I want to.” She pulls off one of my boots and reaches for the other. “This might hurt.”
It will, but pain is a familiar friend. “I promise not to cry.”
She grins, then unties my boot. With exquisite tenderness, she eases it off my foot, her touch light on the swollen flesh. It's tender, but nothing some rest, ice, and pain relievers won't fix. The cut on my thigh is more concerning.
“Where's your first aid kit?”
“Under the bathroom sink.” I should be the one caring for her, not the other fucking way around.
Bella sets my boots out of the way, then tugs hers off, wincing as she eases them off each foot. She must have blisters from the new boots. After she cleans up, I'll treat them.
She gives Nitro a quick pet, then steps into the bathroom.
When she returns, she's wet and shivering in the chilly cabin air. I hate that I'm sitting here while she's soaked through. I need to take care of her. Start a fire and get her warmed up, so she's comfortable here.
I'd planned to take her back to her car, but with the way the rain is falling outside... I can't let her go. Not yet.
Bella digs a couple pain killers out of the kit, then gets me some water from the kitchen. She kneels beside me again, taking in my ankle, ripped jeans, and blood-soaked thigh. Very gently, she moves the fabric aside, trying to see the depth of the injury.
It's more than a scratch. I'm going to have to clean it properly. Can't do that with my pants on.
Bella reaches the same conclusion. “Uh... okay. You'll um... have to take your pants off.”
“You don't want dinner first?”
Her hands freeze on my thigh and her eyes grow wide. A deep red flush steals over her cheeks. “I—I meant for your leg! To stop the bleeding.”
I chuckle. I shouldn't tease her but damn she's adorable when flustered and trying to be professional. “I know.”
She glares at me, but it's more fluster than irritation.
“I'm going to need your help.”
Her gaze darts down to my belt buckle and back to my face. That lovely flush sweeps down her neck beneath the collar of her jacket. How far does it go?
She squares her shoulders. “Right. Okay. Of course you do.” She clears her throat. “No big deal. I've—I've read books. About this. And medical things.”
Books about medical things? I bite back a grin. I can't remember the last time I smiled this much. “You're really selling it.”
Her fingers curl around my belt and she glares at me again. “Don't make it weird.”
“I'm sorry. I don't want you to be uncomfortable.” I cover one of her hands with mine. “I'll do it.”
“No. If anyone is going to take your pants off, Mason, it's going to be me!”
Silence falls between us and I'm barely holding my laughter.
She squeezes her eyes closed and covers them with her hands. “Please tell me I didn't just say that out loud.”
I can't help the low chuckle that escapes. “Sorry, sweetheart. You did.”
Her lips twitch and she opens one eye, peeking at me through her fingers.
I gently take one of her wrists and pull her hand away, revealing the sparkle in her eyes. Goddamn she's gorgeous.
Bella laughs and reaches for my belt again. “You're terrible.”
She has no idea. Every second with this woman is making me feral in a way I've never felt before. I'm seconds from dragging her into my arms and kissing the hell out of her, injuries be damned. Only the innocence simmering under the surface of her beauty is holding me back.