Chapter 21 #2
He was laughing as he turned back toward me. Taking pity on me, he grabbed the alcohol wipe from my hands. I flicked my eyes away when he awkwardly moved the waistband down one side of his shorts and dabbed at the spot as best as he could.
“The bandage is trickier. I can’t reach it from this angle. Can you pull yourself together enough to do this?”
Tate was enjoying himself, far more than I’d expect for someone who always seemed so private.
But then again…I thought of the way his dark eyes skittered across me in our bed at the inn and the feel of his hands on my skin.
His confident and easy manner. Maybe it was the quiet ones you had to watch out for.
As for me, I was one immature thought away from bursting into a fit of nervous giggles. I tried to go for reason. It wasn’t like we were really married.
“Listen. Luke’s probably outside working right now. He’ll never actually know if I did this or not. Let’s get your mom in here. I don’t mind.”
“We’re in this now, woman. Any wife of mine would be happy to get in there and fix me up,” he said, throwing some of my words back in my face.
“It’s the ‘get in there’ that I’m struggling with.”
When he began to laugh, I gave his shoulders a push.
“How are you not embarrassed right now?” I asked.
“Oh, trust me. I hate this.”
“Then how are you laughing right now?”
“Because I’ll never be as embarrassed as you, and that somehow makes it easier.”
“Tate,” I whined, completely flustered, and I hadn’t even gotten the bandage out of the package yet.
“Just do it.”
Okay. This was happening. The best thing I could do was to act completely unaffected. He wouldn’t believe me after all of this, but it might help me get through it.
“Fine. Lie down.”
He moved to lie on the center of the bed.
“No. On the side of the bed,” I said, pointing to the edge. “And get everything ready.”
He did so, pulling down his own waistband with an amused smile.
“I kind of like you bossy,” he murmured.
His low, teasing drawl threatened to undo me, but I soldiered on, averting my gaze as much as possible.
I can’t say that I saw nothing whilst humbly tending to my wounded husband, but I will say that what I did see was quite…well done.
Tate, for his part, kept his comments to a minimum once I had the bandage in my hand. When I was finished, I stepped back, but refused to allow myself time to admire my handiwork. One of us needed to keep things professional.
“Thanks, wife,” he said, standing up and sauntering toward the door.
“You owe me,” I said lightly as I gathered up the bandage wrapper with jittery hands. I felt substantially braver now that he was covered up and walking away.
“I owe you? You’re the one who just got some,” he said as he turned back toward me.
My hands found my hips while my heart picked up speed. “Some what?”
“Some action.” He grinned lazily, leaning casually against the door.
I blinked. “Wait. Who got the action?”
He laughed. It was low and husky and the kind that sent a bolt of heat racing down my spine.
“It was definitely you,” he said.
“That’s debatable.” I inched closer to the door, to him, ready to make my escape and thinking he’d step aside.
He didn’t.
I stopped just before him, hands on my hips, my heart racing.
“I wasn’t aware we were keeping score of anything,” I said.
“You touched my butt. That’s a point. Everybody knows that.”
“I had to touch your butt. That’s different.”
He shrugged. “I’m just saying, you could have put up a little more fight. It sends mixed signals.”
“Me wanting to run away and beg your mom to do it sent mixed signals?”
Grinning, he went on like I hadn’t said a word. “So it looks like I might have to tie us up.”
“Tie us up? How?”
A thousand ideas were filtering across his face that he was struggling not to say. It was the way he had to look away and swallow the grin trying to escape, to keep himself in check.
When he finally spoke, he cleared his throat. “I’ll let you take the lead on that.”
“What about our annulment line?”
He bit back another smile before he shrugged, a gleam in his eyes.
“Listen, Rawlins. I’ve been trying my best to keep things professional between us, then you go and do something like this.
Hands all over me.” He bit back a grin at my outrage but kept talking.
“This is strictly about keeping things fair. The annulment line is still in play. I’m just thinking about the health of our marriage.
According to the experts, it’s all about give and take. ”
He was teasing. That was all this was. A bit of fun was all he was after, but I couldn’t forget our purpose here. I wouldn’t forget our purpose.
I was a job to Tate.
First and foremost. I knew that. And I respected that.
But at this moment, he seemed lighter. Completely at ease.
Like we had just untethered something for a minute.
And watching him like this, so carefree and unguarded and so completely flirtatious, was enticing.
Tempting. Endearing. And the whole thing reminded me of dancing with him at Will’s wedding.
Except there was no performance. No show. It was just us.
All of this, combined with my galloping heart, was a wild combination.
Ever so slowly, Tate reached out, looped a finger through the belt buckle of my jeans, and pulled me to him. When my body was flush against his, he turned us until my back pressed lightly against the door.
“I think it’s only fair that I kiss you right now to make up for all your manhandling—”
“What? I didn’t—”
His low laughter stopped whatever words were about to cross my lips. “Then we’ll be even. The score will be tied up.”
His body was warm and solid against mine; his arms were around my waist, and his eyes were...sweet when I finally dared to look up at him.
I was smiling.
And feeling completely safe in his arms.
“Fine,” I whispered.
He closed the gap, his lips brushing softly against mine. Hesitantly. Like we were on a roller coaster slowly making its way up the hill. But before we could fall into whatever this was, he pulled back suddenly, his eyes searing into mine and flashing with warning.
“After this, we’ll be even. Everything will be back like it was before. I’m sleeping on the floor, and you’re wearing sweats to bed. Got it?”
My face tilted upward, a fraction of an inch, completely mesmerized by his blue eyes on mine.
“Don’t boss me around,” I whispered.
He laughed softly, his warm minty breath grazing the skin at my collarbone.
Though he was keeping things light, he held himself in check, moving back a fraction and keeping one hand around my waist while the other pressed against the wall by my face, like he couldn’t decide whether to pull me closer or push himself away.
“I’m still in charge,” he said, eyes dropping to my lips.
“Says who?”
We didn’t get to the bottom of that question.
When he opened his mouth to answer, I lost all sense and met his lips with mine.
Our mouths collided in a playful battle of wills.
He drew one hand to my neck, his fingers in my hair, tugging lightly, the sensation making me shiver.
My arms wound their way around his shoulders, which just so happened to bring us even closer.
The only coherent words I could appropriately cobble together with his fevered lips on mine were these: hot, hot, hot.
His kiss was confident and masculine and with an underlying softness that tugged and squeezed and left me craving to know everything about this man. His wounds. His heart. How he could give so much for his job. For me.
All too soon, he pulled back, stepping away at the same time. He was breathing heavily and definitely glowering in my direction.
“Alright. We’re tied up now, Rawlins. No more.”
Rawlins.
Already I could feel the space widening between us, and since my lungs were still trying to pull in enough air after he’d left his mark, I resented the distance.
“Actually, there were two kisses just now. We both started one, so technically it’s now 2-1.” I grinned cheekily up at him. “How is our marriage going to survive the imbalance?”
He glared, pulling me away from the door so he could yank it open.
When he nudged me forward and into the hallway, I felt a light spank across my butt. I gasped and turned back to him.
He only smirked as he brushed past me in the hallway. “2 to 2. Game over. Don’t forget the sweats tonight.”