Chapter Fifteen
It’s not completely dark in this room. The moon is shining through the window. His bed is comfy, that’s for damn sure. I’m used to whatever mattress people will throw in a bunkhouse or on the ground outside with a herd of cattle. It’s been a long time since I’ve slept in anything this nice.
The pain medicine I took with dinner is still in my system, though I know I’ll probably be due for more soon.
Doesn’t matter though, I’ll live through the night.
I’m tired. I still can’t believe this is where I'm at. Feels like a bad dream. But beggars can’t be choosers, and whether I like it, that’s me right now.
Today was intense. Never in my wildest dreams did I think what happened today was on the menu. But Blaze is alive, I’m okay, and now I just need to get through this so I can settle in and learn my new job. I wiggle my shoulders and take a deep breath as I close my eyes.
He saw my panties. Twice. Damnit. Why did I pick the pink ones?
I usually go with black or navy blue. But it was a combo pack, and I just grabbed what was on top and threw ‘em on.
I didn't think anyone would see them but me. I actually like powder pink as a color. I wouldn’t wear it as a frilly top or a bow in my hair—but sue me if I like to wear it as underwear.
My eyes fly open as I clutch the blankets between my legs. I haven’t had a potty dream since I was a kid. But I didn’t want to bother going again before bed. Really, Mother Nature? You’re seriously going to do me dirty like this?
I could try to do it myself but what if I fall? No, I won’t fall! I can do this. There’s bed posts and walls and countertops and that bar thing next to the toilet. I’ll be fine. I’ll hop on my good foot.
I grip the comforter and fling my arm across my body, revealing an elevated right ankle and the rest of me, dressed in my bosses baggy shorts and T-shirt.
It’s a good thing I’m on the left side of the bed, otherwise, getting off would be a lot harder.
I use my elbows to push up and sit. I drop my outside leg off the mattress and dangle it toward the floor.
With one hand I grip my calf muscle and lift my leg, pulling the pillow out from under it with my opposite hand.
You’re not paralyzed, your leg still functions.
I tell myself as I bring it over and off the bed to hang next to my other one.
Feeling the pressure in my ankle and I try not to wince at the sensation.
I wiggle my bum toward the edge and slowly touch my left foot to the floor to steady myself before putting my full weight on it.
I hold on to the headboard to stand. Bending my right knee so my ankle isn’t so close to the floor… I take my first hop.
One. Two. Three.
It sounds on the hardwood floor, but not loud enough to wake anyone. I make it to the bathroom door and reach around the corner to flick the light switch I know is there, then place my hand on the granite countertop and start moving again.
Four. Five. Six.
I’m keeping track of how many hops it takes to distract my brain from the intense pain I suddenly feel with my ankle not elevated.
My bladder isn’t thanking me either, surely about to explode with every hop, right here on the bathroom floor.
Regret for not asking for help to do this before I fell asleep is smacking me in the face.
Seven. Eight. Nine.
If I’m good at math, it looks like there’s probably only another three hops left.
Ten. Eleven.
I place my hand on the wall to steady myself for the final hop.
Twelve.
I reach out and grip the stainless steel handle on the wall. I made it, hallelujah praise the lord, I made it and didn’t pee on the floor. But as I lift the toilet seat and start shimmying the basketball shorts off my hips and down my rear, a dark shadow fills the doorway, and I squeal.
“What in hell’s name are you doing, woman?” His voice is so damn deep when he’s mad. It’s borderline terrifying. His shorts and my panties are on the floor, around the foot I’m balancing on, my swollen ankle dangling in the air. The shirt I’m wearing is huge, I hope he can’t see my ass.
“I had to go pee!” I yell back at the man, tall and angry as he moves toward me.
“I told you to call for me if you needed anything. What if you fell? What if you did more than sprain that ankle and actually broke it?” He clenches his fist at his side and growls. “Blondie… god, you are an infuriating woman.”
He stops right in front of me and holds out his hand. I place mine in his and as I do; I notice he’s in nothing but his black boxer briefs.
“You’re naked!” I state loudly as I look him up and down. He’s a fucking titan.
“So are you.” He huffs back.
My lips form a flat line, and I squat, still holding his hand. I’ve peed behind bushes and trees and behind barns and fences with cowboys everywhere, but never one this close. He’s going to hear it hit the water for hell’s sake.
“Can you plug your ears?” I groan. “This is embarrassing.”
The bothered look on his face turns into a smirk. “I can do that. I would leave the room, but I don’t trust you to call me when you need help to get up and out of here.” He turns around, and I wonder what’s running through his head.
“How old are you?” I look up at him from where I sit, his back facing me. He’s got enough grey in his beard that I’d guess around forty. But the physique of this man is insane.
“Forty-five.” He drawls, from the deepest part of his throat and I shiver as I relieve myself. Part of me wants to believe that’s just what happens when you pee—but the bigger part of me knows, that wasn’t what gave me the shiver at all.
His bare back flexes in the dimly lit room.
The only light, coming from the hallway outside the bedroom door, and the moonlight floating through the windows.
I take whatever silent moments these are to memorize his body.
From the top of his head, down to his heels.
I doubt I’ll ever see him naked again, and if he’s the only man I ever see that looks like this, I want to remember.
“Finished?” He grunts and I realize it's quiet. Crap. How long have I been sitting here?
“Yes.” I clear my throat and grip the metal bar next to me as I spread my thighs wider in order to wipe. Standing on my good foot I reach down to pull his baggy shorts up with my panties. I wiggle my hips to help get them situated and then I lift my gaze—my boss’s bearded scowl staring down at me.
“When did you turn around?” I blurt out. My scowl now matches his.
“When I heard my shorts slide over your hips. You were quiet, and I had to make sure you weren’t bending over so far, you lost your balance. You forgot to flush though.”
His arm reaches behind me and he presses the small flush handle on the toilet.
I straighten and use my lips to blow the long hair from my face.
“I didn’t forget. I just didn’t have time to do it yet…
boss.” There’s a certain tone to my words and I know he hears it.
He picks me up with one arm, just like he did last time and a warmth floats down into my belly.
What the hell is happening to me? Dixie Jean Wilder, you quit it right now!
But I can’t. It’s beyond my control, so I let him help me to the sink to wash my hands… again.
He gently lifts my leg and places the pillow under my ankle. “How does that feel?” I realize he’s looking at me for confirmation. I nod my head to let him know it’s just right.
“Thank you.” I breathe in disbelief of what just happened. I can’t believe any of this is happening. The bad dream continues. “Oh!” I pause. “Would you bring me some more ibuprofen please?”
“If I don’t, I’ll catch you sneaking out of this room, trying to climb the kitchen counter to get it yourself.
” I swear he winks on his way out. I think I’m gonna start my period, that’s it.
My emotions are tricking me, and that’s what is happening.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Then I hear him come back in.
“Asleep already?”
I open one eye to glare at him. “Told you. I sleep with one eye open.”
He smirks and holds out his hand with two blue pills.
“Hopefully this takes the edge off.” There’s a glass of water in his other hand and he offers it as I take the medicine and place it on my tongue.
Once I’ve finished, I hand it back and thank him.
But as he leaves he turns around one last time.
“When I wake up, you better still be in that bed. Tomorrow I’ll ride into town and get those crutches.
But until I do, your hard ass is hitched to mine. ”
With that he turns and leaves me alone, in his bed, in his pajamas, and with an endless pit of thoughts and feelings to dig through.