Destry
Page 18
“I’m fine, “ I snapped back at him, pushing his hands off my shoulders.
“You could have broken your neck!” His dark tone was both unwarranted and ridiculous.
“I’m fine!” I spat through clenched teeth. “You don’t need to be an asshole.” I pushed myself up until I was sitting, the remnants of adrenaline coursing through my veins.
“You didn’t need to be actin’ like a fool climbing a tree,” he grouched back, running his fingers across my head and flicking his gaze over my eyes. “Are you hurt?” When I didn’t answer fast enough for him, he focused and asked again, “‘Melia, are you hurt anywhere?”
“I’m fine,” I sighed and looked away from him, feeling like an idiot. I wasn’t incapable of climbing a tree. I just hadn’t done it in a long time. A long time, as in, since I was eight years old. Ladies didn’t climb trees; we weeded gardens and planted pretty flowers.
“What the hell were you doing up there?” Destry ground out between his teeth.
“There was a beehive. I was getting honeycomb,” I told him, looking back up through the branches to where the hive was.
“Honeycomb?” he asked incredulously. “You risked getting hurt and possibly killing yourself for damn honeycomb?”
“Don’t be dramatic, Destry,” I told him as I went to stand up. My foot was stinging a little so I figured I needed to check it out and maybe put something on it.
“Dramatic?” he huffed and stood up as I was getting to my knees. “You scared the life out of—“
“Ouch!” I yelped and reached out as Destry caught me before I hit the ground again. “Damn it!”
With a grunt, he swept me up into his arms and walked over to where the quad was sitting. Braxton placed the first aid kit down and started riffling through it while Destry sat me on the quad and knelt down in front of me.
“I need to see your foot. To do that, we’ll need to take this shoe off, darlin’. I’m afraid it’s going to hurt some.” He looked up at me apologetically as he explained.
I nodded and bit my lip, unshed tears pooling in my eyes as my foot throbbed painfully. Destry cringed as he unlaced my shoe and stretched it carefully. Holding onto my lower leg, he pulled it off as gently as possible; still, I made a muffled protest.
“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he apologized as he slid my sock off and started inspecting my foot and ankle. “Wiggle your toes for me,” he asked softly.
“I’m pretty sure it’s just a sprain,” he told me when I managed to move my toes. Braxton handed him a gauze bandage and he set about wrapping my foot up, his gentle way of doing so stunned me. He was being so careful not to hurt me any more than necessary, and even if he hadn’t been, I was sure the closeness of his panty-melting body and the smell of his aftershave mixed with fresh sweat, was enough to take any girl’s mind off a busted up ankle.
“Brax, can you grab me some ice from the cooler and throw it in one of those ziplock bags?” Braxton had already moved to do so even before the last words left Destry’s mouth.
“Thank you,” I whispered after I’d cleared my throat. Our gazes locked for a moment, both of us trapped by the tension that continued to crackle between us. Destry opened his mouth to say something when Austin pulled the pick up alongside us and jumped out.
“You’re okay?” Austin said as he let out a long loud breath and looked at me. “You about gave us a heart attack, girl.” He pulled his hands up to his hips and glared at me.
“Let’s get you home,” Destry, who was still observing me, said quietly. Leaving me no option, he scooped me up again, my hands instantly sliding around his neck as he carried me with a gentleness one wouldn’t think could come from his large frame. Once he had me in the truck, he walked around to the driver’s side. I found myself watching and contemplating the entire time.
In a few short days, I had formed more feelings for Destry than I had in two years with my fiancé. I thought I’d loved Wesley or grown to love him rather, but I hadn’t really; I’d just convinced myself of it. Our entire relationship had been a series of chores, from the actual engagement, right down to the sex. I hadn’t been a virgin when we’d met and he didn’t have a clue I’d given my innocence to a guy I thought I could run away with. A guy who broke a little piece of me when he turned out to be nothing more than a cocky cowboy, hence my trepidation when it came to Destry. She found herself thankful that the recent shift in Destry’s attitude had moved him out of that category.
He could be a right ass yet sweet as pie all in a thirty-second time span. I watched the way his muscles moved as he navigated the truck through the open pasture toward the house, obviously taking care not to jostle me and my bitch of a twisted ankle any more than necessary. He was a contradiction to everything I thought a real cowboy was. A quiet ride home led to Destry insisting on helping me upstairs where I had a quick bath and a few painkillers. Once the medication started to kick in, I hobbled to bed only to find he’d brought up dinner and left it on my bedside table. He really was quite sweet once you got past his walls.
That night, I had a fitful sleep. The whole night I was invaded by dreams. Some left me hot and bothered, and included Destry's mouth ravishing my body with hot sweet kisses, while others left me cold and angry. Flashes of my sister's betrayal, images of Wesley slamming in to her, startled me from my sleep on more than one occasion. I was sure at one point I'd been calling out before a soft hand had touched my brow and a soothing voice had lulled me to sleep. Damn, fucked-up, crazy dreams.
“You could have broken your neck!” His dark tone was both unwarranted and ridiculous.
“I’m fine!” I spat through clenched teeth. “You don’t need to be an asshole.” I pushed myself up until I was sitting, the remnants of adrenaline coursing through my veins.
“You didn’t need to be actin’ like a fool climbing a tree,” he grouched back, running his fingers across my head and flicking his gaze over my eyes. “Are you hurt?” When I didn’t answer fast enough for him, he focused and asked again, “‘Melia, are you hurt anywhere?”
“I’m fine,” I sighed and looked away from him, feeling like an idiot. I wasn’t incapable of climbing a tree. I just hadn’t done it in a long time. A long time, as in, since I was eight years old. Ladies didn’t climb trees; we weeded gardens and planted pretty flowers.
“What the hell were you doing up there?” Destry ground out between his teeth.
“There was a beehive. I was getting honeycomb,” I told him, looking back up through the branches to where the hive was.
“Honeycomb?” he asked incredulously. “You risked getting hurt and possibly killing yourself for damn honeycomb?”
“Don’t be dramatic, Destry,” I told him as I went to stand up. My foot was stinging a little so I figured I needed to check it out and maybe put something on it.
“Dramatic?” he huffed and stood up as I was getting to my knees. “You scared the life out of—“
“Ouch!” I yelped and reached out as Destry caught me before I hit the ground again. “Damn it!”
With a grunt, he swept me up into his arms and walked over to where the quad was sitting. Braxton placed the first aid kit down and started riffling through it while Destry sat me on the quad and knelt down in front of me.
“I need to see your foot. To do that, we’ll need to take this shoe off, darlin’. I’m afraid it’s going to hurt some.” He looked up at me apologetically as he explained.
I nodded and bit my lip, unshed tears pooling in my eyes as my foot throbbed painfully. Destry cringed as he unlaced my shoe and stretched it carefully. Holding onto my lower leg, he pulled it off as gently as possible; still, I made a muffled protest.
“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he apologized as he slid my sock off and started inspecting my foot and ankle. “Wiggle your toes for me,” he asked softly.
“I’m pretty sure it’s just a sprain,” he told me when I managed to move my toes. Braxton handed him a gauze bandage and he set about wrapping my foot up, his gentle way of doing so stunned me. He was being so careful not to hurt me any more than necessary, and even if he hadn’t been, I was sure the closeness of his panty-melting body and the smell of his aftershave mixed with fresh sweat, was enough to take any girl’s mind off a busted up ankle.
“Brax, can you grab me some ice from the cooler and throw it in one of those ziplock bags?” Braxton had already moved to do so even before the last words left Destry’s mouth.
“Thank you,” I whispered after I’d cleared my throat. Our gazes locked for a moment, both of us trapped by the tension that continued to crackle between us. Destry opened his mouth to say something when Austin pulled the pick up alongside us and jumped out.
“You’re okay?” Austin said as he let out a long loud breath and looked at me. “You about gave us a heart attack, girl.” He pulled his hands up to his hips and glared at me.
“Let’s get you home,” Destry, who was still observing me, said quietly. Leaving me no option, he scooped me up again, my hands instantly sliding around his neck as he carried me with a gentleness one wouldn’t think could come from his large frame. Once he had me in the truck, he walked around to the driver’s side. I found myself watching and contemplating the entire time.
In a few short days, I had formed more feelings for Destry than I had in two years with my fiancé. I thought I’d loved Wesley or grown to love him rather, but I hadn’t really; I’d just convinced myself of it. Our entire relationship had been a series of chores, from the actual engagement, right down to the sex. I hadn’t been a virgin when we’d met and he didn’t have a clue I’d given my innocence to a guy I thought I could run away with. A guy who broke a little piece of me when he turned out to be nothing more than a cocky cowboy, hence my trepidation when it came to Destry. She found herself thankful that the recent shift in Destry’s attitude had moved him out of that category.
He could be a right ass yet sweet as pie all in a thirty-second time span. I watched the way his muscles moved as he navigated the truck through the open pasture toward the house, obviously taking care not to jostle me and my bitch of a twisted ankle any more than necessary. He was a contradiction to everything I thought a real cowboy was. A quiet ride home led to Destry insisting on helping me upstairs where I had a quick bath and a few painkillers. Once the medication started to kick in, I hobbled to bed only to find he’d brought up dinner and left it on my bedside table. He really was quite sweet once you got past his walls.
That night, I had a fitful sleep. The whole night I was invaded by dreams. Some left me hot and bothered, and included Destry's mouth ravishing my body with hot sweet kisses, while others left me cold and angry. Flashes of my sister's betrayal, images of Wesley slamming in to her, startled me from my sleep on more than one occasion. I was sure at one point I'd been calling out before a soft hand had touched my brow and a soothing voice had lulled me to sleep. Damn, fucked-up, crazy dreams.
