She sat down on the crisp sheet, and the robe slipped off her knee. After a moment, she was aware of Zach’s still silence. She glanced up at him.
“What happened?” he demanded.
She followed the direction of his gaze, coming to a purple, half-healed bruise on the middle of her thigh.
“Oh, that.” She covered it up with the robe. “I was painting the other day. I tripped halfway down the ladder and smacked into one of the rails.”
“You were painting a house?”
“A shed.”
“And you fell down a ladder?”
“It wasn’t a big deal.” Embarrassed that he was going to think she was a hopeless klutz, she pulled her legs up onto the bed, curling them under the covers.
“And this?” he asked.
Too late, she realized the robe had fallen off her shoulder.
Zach’s thumb traced a barely visible bruise on the tip.
“Pulling a horseshoe.”
“Oh, Doll-Face.” He sighed.
Before she knew what was happening, he’d leaned in and kissed the fading bruise.
“Zach,” she warned.
“Scoot over.”
They couldn’t do this.
“I can’t,” she managed to say.
“That’s not what I meant. You’re hurt. You’re tired. You’re a little drunk.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“I gave you a lot of scotch.”
“It helped.”
“That was the point.”
“But I’m not drunk.”
“I just want to hold you.” He eased her to the middle of the bed. “Just for a few minutes.”
“Why?” she asked with suspicion, holding herself stiff.
He stretched out beside her. “I don’t know.” He circled an arm around her, but stopped before he touched her. “Any other sore spots I should know about?”
“My ribs,” she answered before she thought it through. She probably should have kept that to herself.
His expression darkened. “What happened to your ribs?”
“I came off a horse. It happens a lot.”
He closed his eyes for a long second, but then his arm curled ever so gently around her stomach. “It never happens to me.”
She couldn’t help smiling at that. The warmth of his arm felt very good against her stomach. As her body relaxed, he put his own head down on the pillow.
“You need to find a safer job,” he muttered.
“I need to find someone who won’t fight with me all the time.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
“Well,
Abigail awoke in Zach’s arms. There was no way to tell how long he’d stayed with her last night. The whiskey had put her into a sound sleep, and this morning he was showered and changed, lying on top of the quilt, while she was tucked underneath it.
“Morning,” he intoned in a deep, lazy voice, smoothing her hair back from her forehead.
“What time is it?” She stifled a yawn.
“Nearly nine.”
“Nine?” She started to sit up, but a jolt of pain shot through her arm. She gritted her teeth, just barely controlling an outburst. “I have to call Travis.”
“I already did.”
“Excuse me?” She must have misunderstood.
“I called Travis. He’s sending someone out to the highway to pick up the truck.”
Abigail struggled to a sitting position, using her good arm to hold the covers across her chest where the robe had come open while she slept. “You had no right to do that.”
“You’re definitely in no shape to drive home.”
She groaned out a frustrated exclamation.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“Yes?”
“Since when did you become Travis’s best friend?”
“I told him about the stitches.”
“He already knew I had stitches.”
“You downplayed it. And we agreed it would be better for you to wait a day or two before going back to work.”
“What is
“He offered to come and pick you up, but I told him I’d make sure you got home.”
“Seriously, Zach. You can’t just up and plan another person’s life.”
“I consulted your family,” he defended with a straight face.
“That’s not the point.”
“You’ve always made it clear their opinion was important.”
“Oh no you don’t.” She shook her head vigorously. She wasn’t about to let him use her family against her. She might love and respect them, but that didn’t mean Zach got to do an end run around her own wishes.
He moved to a sitting position, swinging his legs so that his feet rested on the floor. Then he twisted back to look at her. “Do you really want to go home right away?”
Part of her did, and part of her didn’t. There was always plenty of bookwork for her to do at the ranch. So she could rest up for a couple of days and still be useful. Then again, Zach had her enthusiastic about the restaurant, and it would be fun to prowl through the castle for a few hours.
“This afternoon would be fine, I guess.”
He smiled at that. “I washed your clothes.”
Okay, that embarrassed her. “Really?”
“They’re on the counter in the bathroom.” He stood. “I’ll go get us some breakfast. You need anything else? A couple of painkillers?”
“Some aspirin would be nice.”
“I can get you something stronger.”
“What are you, my dealer?”
He chuckled at that. “I’m just trying to make you comfortable.”
She realized that he was. She was the one being surly and antagonistic. All the poor man had done was rescue her from the side of the road, get her medical attention, inform her family and take care of her truckload of ranch supplies, while she was doing nothing but give him grief.
“Aspirin will be fine,” she told him, determining to do her best to help him gather some ideas for the restaurant. It was the least she could do to pay him back.
“See you in a couple of minutes.”
He left the room with Ozzy at his heels, and by the time she’d freshened up and gotten dressed, the pair of them were back, Zach carrying a tray of coffee and two stacks of delicious-smelling pancakes.
