Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Ten minutes later, I still have no answers and realize that I’m a creeper who’s sitting in the parking lot of an animal shelter. Reaching for the handle, I start to climb out of my SUV, but I freeze when I see her. Her long dark hair is braided and thrown over her shoulder. She’s wearing a tank top with the shelter’s logo and a pair of tight pants, leggings—a man’s best friend.
I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s leading a horse my way. She turns her head to talk to him, and I see her stumble. My hand jerks open the door, and my legs rush to carry me to her, but it’s too late. She stumbles and falls to the ground. The horse gets spooked and rushes past me. I don’t try and stop it as I rush to her, falling on my knees beside her.
“Tessa,” I say with a pant.
“Ow.” Her voice is soft and constricted with pain.
“Hey, let me look at you.”
She lifts her head, and the pain in her eyes twists my gut. “L-Landon?” she asks, confused.
“Yeah.” I swipe her bangs out of her eyes. “You okay?”
“What are you doing here?” She moves to sit up and winces.
“Let me help you.” She doesn’t fight me as I stand and place my hands under her arms and lift her. She tries to step out of my hold and ends up falling into my arms as she cries out in pain. I don’t think, I just swing her into my arms bridal-style and carry her to the front door. “Can you turn the knob?” I ask. She’s able to turn the knob, and I kick the door open with my foot. I bypass the receptionist desk and move down the hall. “This your office?” I ask her.
“Yeah.” She nods, her face still scrunched up in pain.
I don’t ask which desk is hers; the bouquet of lilies and roses tells me. I hide my smile, but something inside me lifts knowing that she kept them. Carefully, I set her in the chair. “Let me take a look.” I run my hands down her leg, all toned muscle, and stop when I reach her ankle.
“It’s fine, or it will be. I just landed on it wrong.” She tries to pull her leg out of my hands, but I’m not having it. “You never told me what you’re doing here.”
“I came to see you.”
“Me?” she asks, confused.
“Yeah, it’s been too long since I’ve seen those green eyes.” I’m staring at her, our faces close as I kneel before her. I have the sudden urge to pull her into a kiss.
“Come on, Landon. Why are you here?”
I didn’t know it was the truth until the words left my lips the first time, so I repeat, “To see you.” Gently, my fingers trace over her ankle, which is already starting to swell. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to you in time. I saw you stumble. I tried.”
“Not your fault or your responsibility.”
“Maybe not, but I’m still sorry all the same. Looks like a sprain.”
“Great,” she mutters.
“Are you the only one here?”
She nods, her eyes glassy. “Yes. We had a volunteer scheduled, but they were a no-show. JJ’s daycare called, and he’s got pink eye, or so they think. Autumn left to pick him up and take him to the doctor.”
“Okay. Well, I think if you ice it and keep it elevated, it should be okay. Where can I get some ice?”
“I can manage. You should go.”
Unable to resist, I reach up and cradle her cheek in the palm of my hand. “I’m here, and I’m going to help you.” Her green eyes regard me. They truly are a unique color, so much so, my breath hitches as she stares at me. Blinking hard, I scan her face, and that’s when I see a soft dusting of freckles on either cheek. I didn’t notice them before, but I like them. They suit her. Makes her more… human, I guess. She’s not like the women I’m used to. Dressed to the nines, more makeup coated on their faces than the department store can carry, and always with a mission: bed a player. Tessa is a breath of fresh air, one that I didn’t realize I needed until this very moment.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“Where can I get some ice?”
“We have a storage cabinet in the bathroom across the hall. There’s a first aid kit. There should be some ice packs in it.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” I fight the urge to press my lips to hers or even to taste her freckles. Instead, I stand, give her arm a gentle squeeze, and leave to find the ice packs.
“Here.” A few moments later, I hand her a bottle of water that I found in the breakroom. She takes it, and I tear open a small packet of Ibuprofen. “Take these. It will help with the pain and inflammation.” She doesn’t argue as she holds out her hand to accept the pills before tossing them back, drinking half the bottle of water.