Addicted to You (One Night of Passion 1)
He’d cut himself while shaving and stuck a tiny square of tissue on his right cheek to staunch the blood. For some stupid reason, the sight made tears well up in her eyes. She ducked her head and picked up a curl that hung to her waist, flicking at it impatiently. “It’s just a temporary color rinse. I wanted something different, so I darkened it. It’s already fading.”
“I don’t like it at all.”
“Don’t hold back, Rill.”
He returned her scowl. His brows drew together slowly, and she wondered if the emotional upwelling she experienced showed on her face. He beckoned with his hands.
Katie flew into his arms.
“Hey, Shine. It’s not so bad, is it?” he crooned from above her, his voice gruff and lyrical. Katie was five foot four on the days where she could hold her head up high, which hadn’t been very often, in recent history, anyway. Her cheek pressed just below Rill’s nipple line. He felt good—hard and male. He smelled even better, like soap and clean male skin. Hearing him call her “Shine” had caused a fresh wave of misery to surge through her. It’d been his pet name for her since she was a teenager, a shortened version of “sunshine.” When she’d reached her senior year in high school, he’d shortened it to “Shine,” explaining soberly that she’d outstripped the light of a single sun.
He’d teased her a few times since, saying he could never put her in one of his films because his lighting director would never let him rest for ruining everything he’d ever learned about his profession.
Full of it, that was what Rill Pierce was. But in the sweetest kind of way.
“Hey,” he murmured.
She leaned back when he placed his hand at the side of her head. When she looked up at him, Katie abruptly became aware of how blue his eyes were, how thick his lashes were . . . how her belly pressed against the fullness between his thighs. Everett, Eden, Rill and Katie had been friends for years now. She’d hugged Rill countless times. She’d never had cause to feel ashamed hugging him before.
She stepped back now.
“You said Errol’s knee was injured. Is that all?” he asked.
Katie nodded and furtively wiped at an errant tear. “Yeah. They did outpatient surgery on it this morning to fix a torn ACL. The doctor said he would be fine, but he has to take some anti-inflammatory medicine and use a passive motion machine every day. He’ll start outpatient rehabilitation in a week or so.”
“It could have been a lot worse.” He seemed uncertain when another tear spilled down her cheek. “What is it, Katie?”
She bristled at the sound of him saying her name. Ka-tie.
“Have you ever hit a man with your car before?”
“Can’t say I have. Hit a bull when I was filming Pamplona, though. Ruddy thing did more damage to the truck than we did to it.”
Katie laughed, even though she was feeling far from mirthful. “Well, it’s awful. I might have killed him. And Errol’s so . . . He’s so . . . like a . . .”
“Like a child.”
“Yeah,” Katie whispered. She met Rill’s eyes. “He’d run back to his house to get more model planes. He wanted to show me. It was so dark on that street after I left the diner. I never saw him until I’d hit him.”
“It could have happened to anyone. Vulture’s Canyon becomes a dead man’s land at night. And Errol acts on impulse. He should have known better than to run in front of a moving car.”
Katie sighed. “Well, it’s done. I’ll have to pay for his hospital stay and his rehab. He doesn’t have any insurance. He doesn’t have a car, either. I’ll have to drive him to all his appointments,” she added, not realizing the truth of her words until that moment.
“I’ll be driving him.”
Katie glanced up in surprise at Rill’s resolute tone. “Don’t be ridiculous. You didn’t hit him.”
“That may be, but Errol will likely require rehab for weeks on end. There’s no way you’re staying in Vulture’s Canyon that whole time.”
Katie straightened to her full height. “Who says?”
“I do.” He seemed to reconsider his bluntness. “I can imagine Morgan and Watkins might have a say in the matter as well.”
“I’ve taken a vacation from Morgan and Watkins,” Katie said, referring to her former employer, a large law firm that did taxes for the rich and famous.
“You took a vacation and came to Vulture’s Canyon?” Rill a
sked incredulously.