Chapter 7
Taylor
Wyatt extended a hand to help me out of bed and I noticed how strong, yet gentle, her touch was. She pulled one arm over her shoulders while wrapping hers around my waist for added support.
“I can do it,” I felt the need to say. I loved the close contact, but hated feeling like a helpless invalid.
“I know you can.” She gave a half-smile, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. “But this way we get there faster, and without incident.”
She sounded so formal. So adorable.
Her golden Lab, a shadow as always, followed us through to the living room where Wyatt had me sit on one of her kitchen stools. She’d hinted at the movement exercises she wanted to guide me through, but I didn’t know what to expect.
Coming around to kneel in front of me, Wyatt slid her hands slowly up my injured leg.
“You’re not going to buy me a drink first?” I teased, enjoying the flush that instantly colored her cheeks.
She bit her lips to hide the laugh that wanted out and avoided my gaze like the plague. But I knew I’d hit a chord, and that was all that mattered.
“This’ll be a lot easier if we keep the talking to a minimum,” she said, her fingers tracing the path my muscles were meant to follow.
I made as though I were zippering my mouth shut. “Sir, yes, sir.”
This seemed to placate Wyatt, who carried on with what she was doing. I was acutely aware of every point of contact between us—the reassuring grip of her hand on my thigh, the way she softly grazed my skin.
With each movement, I could feel the heat building. Between my legs, in the space that separated her face from my leg. She was so close. Close enough that if she only thought to dip her head even slightly…
It was like an invisible force field crackling with attraction.
Wyatt’s warm, slightly calloused hands moved with such precision it was impossible not to be captivated by her expertise. She was playing it cool. Acting like this was just a routine physiotherapy session, but the smoldering tension told a different story.
“You make this look easy.” I gave up resistance in my leg so she could guide it through a low-intensity exercise. “You didn’t answer me before about being a doctor. But you’re probably a therapist?”
She took a deep breath, her mouth pulling in a terse line. “Just a hobby, I promise.”
“You’ve made a hobby out of touching women inappropriately?”
Wyatt’s eyes shot up in shock, the look on her face making me laugh out loud despite the prickling twinge in my calf. The exact one she was working.
The alarm quickly gave way to a deadpan stare, and she moved to my other leg. “You know what they say. Practice makes perfect.”
Her playful response only fueled the tension in the room. It was a dangerous game we were playing, this back-and-forth, our bodies touching, moving together. I wondered if she felt the same electric pull that I did.
I was pretty sure there was something there, but she was a difficult one to pin down. Her aloofness made it all the more tantalizing. She was a mystery I was more than happy to unravel, and seeing that I was stuck in this cabin for an indefinite amount of time, I might as well go with it.
“Hey, boy.” The golden Lab’s ears perked up and he came up to me, nuzzling my hand with a happy snort. I pulled away, keeping the smile on my face even though there was a grimace fighting to break free.
“Mr. Michael Keaton,” Wyatt said, bending and straightening my leg slowly. Her eyes were glued to the motion of my muscles.
“What about him?” The dog kept nudging me with his nose. It was wet and cold against my arm. I wanted to swat him off but knew my way around dog moms. Shooing was a definite no-no.
Wyatt stopped what she was doing to look up at me. “His name. He’s Mr. Michael Keaton. My soulmate.”
“The dog, or the man?” I only realized I was pulling a face by the way she looked at me. Quickly schooling my features, I patted the Lab’s head affectionately.
“I don’t know Michael Keaton, the man,” she said simply, and went back to guiding my leg through slow circular motions.
So she meant the dog. The dog was her soulmate. He stared up at me with his soulful eyes, panting happily, tail wagging. I wasn’t sure what to do with that little tidbit, and so did the only thing I could think of in the moment.
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Michael Keaton.” I held my hand out to him, and as though he understood what was happening he gave me his paw.
I wasn’t a dog person by any stretch, but I’d be lying if I said that move didn’t melt me to a certain degree. He was as cute as he was smart.
Micheal Keaton seemed to approve, giving my hand a friendly lick.
“Careful, he’s a charmer.” Wyatt smiled. And me? I felt the sudden urge to kiss that smile right off her face.
Throughout the session, the chemistry continued to sizzle like a slow-burning fire. An oasis of warmth in the middle of the storm still raging outside.
“How long have you been out here?” My curiosity got the better of me. “Doesn’t it scare you to be all alone like this?”
She glanced at me, her green eyes reflecting the flickering firelight from the nearby hearth.
There was a hint of a smile on her lips as she replied, “I could ask you the same thing. What brings you to this neck of the woods when it’s quite literally the end of the world out there?”
“Touché,” I conceded with a soft chuckle. “I guess I needed a little adventure. Plus, I was working. Scouting the location for a new resort.”
“Resort, huh?” She raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re in hospitality.”
Hospitality. I hadn’t heard it put that way since I was a nobody, pitching my idea to a consultant for a bank loan.
“A secluded, luxury mountain retreat,” I explained. “I build exclusive resorts around the world, actually.”
She considered me thoughtfully, exercises briefly forgotten. “That sounds… like you work with a lot of people.”
I snorted laughter. The look on her face was like I’d just described the most horrific job on the planet.
“You never answered my question,” I said, eyeing her curiously. “You do that a lot.”
Wyatt hesitated for a moment, her gaze drifting away as if she were lost in thought. Then, with a small, enigmatic smile, she said, “Let’s just say I value my solitude.”
“Well, you struck gold. There’s an abundance of that up here.” The comedic relief was to lighten the weight that had come down on her shoulders.
I didn’t know what it was about, but didn’t like that I caused it. There was a sense she didn’t want to delve deeper and I wanted her to know that I respected that. That she could trust me.
Only days into this, and already the layers of mystery surrounding Wyatt had me intrigued. While she was on her knees, helping me through exercises, I was plotting to piece her puzzle together, one careful conversation at a time.
“This should be okay for now.” Wyatt lowered my leg, returning my foot gently to the floor again. “I don’t want to tire you out too much.”
“You’re sweet, thanks,” I said. “You don’t have to do any of this, and yet-”
“I really don’t mind.” She sounded so sincere when she had no reason to be.
“Even with me smelling like a Paleolithic cave dweller?”
“You smell great.” She tensed up, hearing her words as if for the first time. As if she hadn’t planned for them to be said out loud. “I mean…” Wyatt looked like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
And if she’d been blushing before, her face was on fire now.
“What I meant was… Not that I have any first-hand knowledge of what cave dwellers smelled like. That would make me… a bajillion years old, which is…” She swallowed hard, her breathing growing shallow. “I just mean that it’s not that bad. From where I’m sitting. Is what I mean.”
Her shoulders sagged like a party balloon with a slow puncture.
I had front row seats to the gradual implosion of this most intriguing woman, and I was enjoying every second of it. She was so freaking adorable I’d be crazy not to keep it going.
“Do you think you could help me with a shower?” I asked, not flinching when her gaze flickered up to mine. “You do have one, don’t you?”
Wyatt nodded, a flurry of thoughts swirling behind her deep green eyes.
“Okay good. Some hot water is just what I need, and you can keep me from face-planting. What do you say?”
This time, there was a slight pause before she nodded again.
I was careful with how much I teased her as we made our way to the bathroom, Wyatt bearing most of my weight. The last thing I wanted was for her to run scared and change her mind. I liked playing with her, but I also really wanted that shower.
Wyatt remained stolid while she prepared everything—the waterproof dressing for the bandage on my thigh, the temperature of the water. She moved about the small bathroom with clinical purpose.
Which only made it harder for me to keep from pushing her buttons. How could I not, when she was so intent on keeping things painfully professional?
“My eyes are up here, Doc.” I smirked, pulling her Batman t-shirt over my head.
Wyatt’s big eyes met mine in alarm. “I wasn’t- I swear, I didn’t-”
I chuckled softly. “Be careful you don’t throw your back out with all those vehement denials. Help me in?”
Calling her out, but then immediately changing the topic worked like a charm. It created a moment of tension, but left Wyatt in a position to do nothing about it. It took some effort to keep a straight face as she led me to the shower. I could feel the way she was trembling.
At first, I expected her to settle me down and wait just outside the curtain. But to my surprise, Wyatt followed me right into the tiny cubicle, clothes and all. Her dirty blonde hair was soaked in an instant, and her sky-blue t-shirt clung to her in the most deliciously surprising way.
Krispy Kreme. Team Building. 2011.
I scanned the print slowly, feeling a tantalizing warmth between my legs when my gaze raked over her prominent nipples.
“My eyes are up here, by the way.”
There was a hint of amusement in those pools of green when I met her gaze. It sent a spark of arousal blooming between my legs. Well, well… Miss Painfully Professional knew how to play too, it seemed.
I laughed, the sound echoing off the bathroom tiles. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, I felt a growing sense of closeness with Wyatt, as if sharing something this intimate was catapulting us past the various starting stages of this connection, whatever it was.
As I lathered my way to smelling vaguely human again, I felt the distinct tickle of certainty that the foolish hike in the storm had changed the trajectory of my life.