Say You'll Marry Me

“I’m a nurse. I know what I need to do,” she snipped.

Yeah, he knew that. Which was another reason for his lack of respect. All that time and money into her medical training, and she wasted it lounging around on the ranch. Pissed him off as he worked his ass off each day here and at his own place.

Setting his jaw once more, he slid one arm around her waist and helped her hobble to the steps she’d made with the bales. “Sit on the edge here, and I’ll lift you down.”

Without waiting for her agreement, he braced a hand on the hay and leapt the three levels to the loft floor. When he turned around, she was already scooting down the stairs on her butt, her injured foot held up a few inches to keep from bumping it.

Great. Saved him from touching her any more than he had to.

Logan pulled her to her feet from the last bale. “You want to use the ladder, or scoot down the elevator?”

She steadied herself with a firm grip on his forearm while taking stock of her options. She’d removed her gloves, and the heat of her touch seared into his skin. “The elevator would probably be easiest.”

He nodded. “I’ll go first.”

A few minutes later, he waited at the bottom as Joy one-legged crab-walked her way down the pitched chute. He’d unplugged the machine earlier before climbing up, but still worried about her losing her balance on the way down.

She navigated the distance without incident, and this time, there was no choice but for her to let him lift her down to the ground. His hands spanned her slim waist while she braced hers on his shoulders. As he set her on her feet, there was a moment when their eyes met, and his heart slammed against his ribs.

He’d never quite been this close to her before. Late morning sunlight deepened the green of her hazel eyes until the mossy color dominated the brown tones. The mix of colors was breathtaking, especially framed by her darkened lashes.

His fingers flexed on her waist as he fought the primal urge to pull her closer and stake a claim.

What the hell was wrong with him today?

Her gaze dropped to his mouth, making his breath hitch. She quickly swung her head toward the house while easing away from him, and Logan couldn’t help but notice how the sun brightened golden highlights in her red hair.

She gripped the edge of the elevator for balance. “Thanks. I should be good from here.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. “Really?”

“Really. I’m good. See?” She shifted to put weight on her ankle.

He kept his gaze trained on her face. Her features tightened, but she didn’t say a word to contradict her declaration that she was fine.

Another sliver of grudging respect snuck in and slipped into place. She could’ve easily played the spoiled, helpless female—hell, it’s exactly what he would’ve expected from everything else he’d seen from her prior to this morning.

Then again, as she moved even farther away, he wondered if maybe she didn’t like being near him when he was all sweaty and smelly. The thought of her looking down her nose at him for a morning of hard work annoyed the hell out of him, and made him call her bluff.

He rocked back on his heels and folded his arms across his chest while gesturing toward the house with his chin. “Good. Great. You should head on in for that ice, then.”

Joy gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I will. I’m just a little tired from stacking the hay, so I’m going to give it a few minutes.” She waved her free hand toward the tractor. “But don’t let me keep you. I know you don’t have all day.”

The pointed sarcasm made him huff out a breath. “Oh, for Pete’s sake, this is ridiculous.”

He stepped forward, ignoring the widening of her eyes as he closed the distance between them. He slipped one arm around her back and the other behind her legs to scoop her up against his chest.

“What—put me down!”

“Nope.”

As he strode toward her grandparents’ house, her fingers fisted in his damp shirt against his back. Her indignant breath warmed the skin under his jaw and spiked his pulse.

“Logan—”

“Shut up already,” he muttered. “We’re halfway there, so just deal with it. Your delicate sensibilities will survive just fine.”

“My what?”