God. He didn’t want to just fuck her. He didn’t want to do any of the things he normally did with other women. Well, he did, but not like that. He wanted to know about her. About how she grew up. About her family. The things she liked and disliked. All those little things that made people close. A couple.
He never thought he’d date. He hardly even did things on a first name basis.
He’d actually wanted to make Colette scream his name and maybe add a few scratches to his back at a point in time. Well, it happened, just not in the way he would have wanted it to.
There he was now, bleeding all over the sand, after failed date number two, now wanting to get close to her. Talk about something with her. Anything – to get to know her better.
Thinking of taking that chance, of actually sitting down and letting someone close, of getting close, hurt a hell of a lot more than the road rash, so he gave his head a shake, snapping his neck uncomfortably under the weight of the helmet and forced himself to get back up on the old horse that bucked him off. Except it was a quad. A quad that Colette, as a tiny woman, had handled just fine.
He was pretty sure that if Colette had her way, he was never going to hear the end of it. The office was going to have something to talk about other than those flowers from the day before.
Blaze started his quad so that the loud hum of the engine would cover up his groan.
CHAPTER 12
Colette
After John dropped the first aid box onto the picnic table in a huge metal shop where rows and rows of quads were kept lined up, he left them alone, saying he’d be in his office if they needed him, wherever that was.
He was probably going over the waiver they’d signed before they started riding, just to make sure it was airtight. Of course he didn’t want to get sued.
Colette flipped the lid on the old white box. It had definitely seen better days. There was a huge dent on the left side and rust all around. She practically needed a Tetanus shot just to look at the thing and that was supposed to be what she used to fix up the gaping, bleeding wounds all over Blaze’s arms.
“I’m fine. Really. Just put that thing away,” he insisted.
Colette shook her head as she pulled out a roll of gauze and inspected it. The kit looked like it had never been used, at least on the inside. She pulled out a few adhesive bandages and kept the roll of gauze in her other hand. There was a small bottle of iodine that was still full. She figured that it would sting, but she couldn’t just throw clean bandages over filthy cuts.
“Just- just roll some gauze over it. It’s good enough to get us home.”
She ignored him as she splashed iodine onto a cotton pad. “I don’t know why you’d suggest doing this if you didn’t know how to ride.”
“I thought I’d try something new.”
“How I managed to stay on it and you didn’t is beyond me. I hope John writes it down, just to tell his other groups. It’s a funny story.”
“You think people laughing at me is funny?” Blaze’s lips tugged at the corners though, belying his annoyed tone.
“Absolutely. Your employees likely do it behind your back, so what would it matter?”
“Behind my back?” Blaze huffed. “What would they have to laugh at me about? I’m a fair boss.”
Colette shot him a scathing look. “Seriously? You really can’t think of a single thing? Mr. I’ll Bring Women To My Office To Shamelessly Bang Them All Day Long.”
“All day long?” Blaze scoffed. “I knew I had a reputation, but I don’t think even I could keep that up. Unless you were involved.”
Colette made a choked noise at the back of her throat and approached him with her iodine soaked cotton balls. She half wanted to stick them straight onto the worst parts of the road rash just to watch him squirm.
“Do you always have to be such an asshole?”
“What? I’m just saying. You were the one who propositioned me if I recall.”
“We’re here right now because it was the worst mistake I’ve ever done, and this date was just because you promised to leave me alone and correct the misunderstanding about us around the office.”
Blaze swiveled on the wooden seat so that his left arm was facing her. It was the worst by far, with deep, ugly gashes all over the back and down the side. It looked like someone had taken a cheese grater to his skin and scrubbed until there was nothing left but red, pulpy mush. Then added a sprinkling of rocks and dirt just because they were feeling generous.