Total pages in book: 165
Estimated words: 166103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 831(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 166103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 831(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
But it wasn’t right to hurt her.
“I know you’re not,” he said softly. “And I know I’ve done nothing to make you trust me or want my help, but perhaps you’d be a better person and let me help you right now?”
She stared at him for a long moment. Her guard had slipped and he could see the pain and confusion in her eyes.
Maybe they both hid behind a mask. His was one of anger and defensiveness. Hers was coldness and control.
Hmm. That gave him something to think about.
But now wasn’t the time.
“Why? You don’t like me.”
Shit.
“I apologize if I gave you that impression.”
“You . . . you apologize?” She gaped at him.
“Yes.”
She studied him for a long moment. He itched to command her obedience. But he had no right.
Still . . . he wasn’t a man who was used to letting someone else take the reins. And she was hurting.
She called on all of those Daddy instincts he thought he’d buried deep. Maybe she could use a bit of care and attention.
It was the least he owed her
Right . . . and that’s the only reason you want to go all Daddy on her ass.
The urge to take care of a Little . . . to see to all of their needs . . . to have them look at him like he hung the moon and stars.
Fuck. Yeah, he missed that.
“I was a jerk. I have . . . baggage. And it was unprofessional of me to let my baggage affect how I treated you,” he told her stiffly.
“Unprofessional.” She curled up into herself.
Shit.
He was still doing it.
“Unprofessional and unfair,” he added. “The truth is . . . I feel drawn to take care of you. And those feelings are difficult for me to fight. Or to acknowledge. I’m not good at talking about things that might make me vulnerable.”
Understanding filled her face.
He was relieved. But also upset. He didn’t like that she understood where he was coming from because it likely meant that she had felt that way at some stage.
Maybe still did.
“Apology accepted.”
His eyebrows rose. “That easy?” Apologies were never accepted that easily.
“Did you want me to make you work for it?”
“Well yeah.” Ester would have. She’d have had him practically on his knees, begging.
She shook her head. “I don’t need that. A sincere apology . . . it’s more than I’m used to getting.”
“You deserve much more.”
“You don’t know me.”
“No, you’re right. I don’t.” He wanted to, though. But he forced himself not to say the words.
He felt . . . awkward. What did he say or do? How did he take care of her without letting himself feel more than he should?
Just tend to her now. Then you can take a step back.
“Let me see your hands? Please?”
“Please?”
“Yes. Please.”
“You’re not suffering from sunstroke, are you?” she asked.
“No. But that reminds me.” He drew off his backpack and pulled out a bottle of water. “You need to drink. And I have a protein bar, too.”
“You came prepared.”
“I didn’t want you collapsing again. Instead, you fell over. Because of me.”
10
Chloe was surprised by the censure in his voice.
What happened was entirely her fault. She’d let herself get upset and had taken off without watching where she was going. The terrain had gotten rougher and she’d slipped.
Now her hands were stinging and so were her knees. But worse was the throbbing in her ankle.
Not that she intended to tell him that. It wasn’t too bad. Maybe a slight strain. Still, he seemed the sort of person to overreact.
“Let me look at your hands and wash them off, then you can drink the rest of this,” he said firmly.
She could tell he wasn’t going to accept any arguments, so she uncurled her fingers, staring down at her hands.
Please don’t let them be too bad.
Jonathan wasn’t going to be happy if she came back bruised and broken.
She had to be perfect.
A whoosh of breath left her as she took in the scrapes.
“Okay, not too bad.”
Not too bad? They looked raw and ugly.
She was marred.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that they don’t hurt or anything. I know they must. Let’s wash them.” He opened the bottle and poured water over them both, washing away some of the dirt.
Then he held the water up to her lips. She reached for the bottle but he shook his head at her, drawing the bottle back. “No. I don’t want you using your hands until I’ve bandaged them up.”
That surprised her.
She’d never had anyone make a fuss over her like this. Well, unless you counted what happened after she collapsed yesterday. A sane person would have taken the day off today.
Then again, a sane person didn’t try to outrun demons that lived inside them like she did.
She drank some water. Judd didn’t seem to have a filter. He said what he thought even if the truth hurt.