“No, she’s out with friends for the evening. Did you walk all the way here? Like this?” She almost pushed him into a chair at the table.
Stretching his throbbing right leg in front of him, he shook his head. “Red Tucker was coming out of the insurance office next to the candy store when the, er, accident happened. He gave me a lift here.”
“He should have taken you straight to the hospital. I’ll get my car keys and we’ll—”
“No.” He stopped her by catching her wrist. “No hospitals.”
“But Dr. Frank should—”
“No doctors, either. I’ve only got a few bruises, Serena. Nothing life-threatening, I assure you.”
She didn’t look satisfied, but she stopped tugging at
her wrist. Apparently, his tone had convinced her that he wasn’t going to change his mind. “At least let me clean the wounds and apply some ointment.”
He nodded. “Actually, I was going to ask to borrow some first aid supplies.”
“I’ll get the first aid kid. Sit tight.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He suppressed a wince as he shifted his right leg to a slightly more comfortable position.
She wasn’t gone long. When she returned, she carried a first aid kit in one hand and a pair of navy gym shorts in the other. “Take off your jeans.”
He couldn’t help grinning in response to her brusque tone. Before he could utter the response that immediately sprang to his mind, she leveled a finger at him. “Don’t even think about saying that.”
He immediately adopted an innocent expression. “What?”
“Whatever you were going to say.” She tossed the shorts on the table. “These were my father’s. You can wear them while I work on your knee.”
He stood, balancing carefully on his good leg, toed off his shoes and reached for the snap of his torn jeans. Serena turned around, busying herself making a pitcher of iced tea. “You don’t need any help, do you?” she asked without turning to look at him.
“If I say yes, will you help?” he asked, peeling shredded denim carefully away from his injured knee.
“Only if you make me believe you really need it.”
He chuckled. A moment later, he was decently covered in his scuffed T-shirt, borrowed gym shorts and white tube socks. He lowered himself into the chair again, studying his knee. Not so bad, he decided. Compared to the way he’d looked before, this was just a scratch.
Judging from Serena’s scowl, she didn’t agree with his assessment. “You must have really hit the pavement hard,” she fretted, kneeling beside his chair with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. “I’ll have to clean this before I can put anything on it.”
He sipped the iced tea she’d handed him, then said, “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of this myself, you know.”
“I just want to make sure it doesn’t get infected.” She carefully poured the hydrogen peroxide over the oozing wound, watching as it bubbled away impurities. When she was satisfied that his knee was clean enough, she carefully spread a thin layer of medicated cream over the scrape, her fingers no heavier than butterfly wings against his skin. Her head was bent industriously over the task, and it was all Sam could do to prevent himself from running his fingers through her glossy hair.
There should be nothing in the least erotic about the way she touched him—she was obviously making an effort to keep her actions efficient and impersonal—but her touch aroused him anyway.
Bad timing, dude, he reminded himself, knowing he still had to tell her what had happened. He wasn’t looking forward to it—he had a feeling she wasn’t going to take it well—but she would hear it from him or someone else. He half expected the phone to ring any minute with someone wanting to gossip about the near tragedy on Main Street.
She covered his knee with a gauze pad and secured it with strips of adhesive. “I guess that will have to do,” she said, studying the bandage with a frown. “It’s going to be sore tomorrow.”
“That’s okay. I’m getting used to it.”
She laid her fingers against his cheek, turning his head to give her a better view of his chin. “This one’s not so bad,” she murmured, reaching for her supplies again. “Probably won’t even need a bandage.”
“Good. I’m not wearing a bandage on my chin.”
Her eyes lifted for a moment to meet his. “Opinionated, today, aren’t you?” She sounded a bit more relaxed now that she’d determined for herself that he wasn’t seriously hurt, which was good, considering what he still had to tell her.
Her face was very close to his as she tended to his chin. Moving forward only a couple of inches would bring their mouths together. His hands rested safely on his thighs, but he had only to lift them to have Serena in his arms. His fingers twitched with an urge to do just that; he closed them into loose fists to keep them where they were.