I looked to the sky and laughed at his explanation. “That sounds like my mom. There’s my oldest sister, Jenika, who lives in Florida, which is where they headed today. My middle sister Kailey lives in St. Paul with her husband and kids. I’m the baby of the family, and they consider their foster daughter Haylee, my twin. Haylee and I own The Fluffy Cupcake together. I’m the only one who still lives here,” I explained, pointing behind me at the house.
Another stabbing pain hit me right at that moment, and I grabbed for the fence to hold me up. Instantly, I wished like hell that I hadn’t. The old rotten wood gave way, and I ended up on the ground with both hands full of splinters and my leg in an agonizing spasm. A word not fit for a lady tore from my lips as he knelt next to me, his eyes worried while he freed me from the fence.
“Are you okay?” he asked, but all I could do was moan to hold back the rest of the cuss words waiting to spill out.
Before I could blink, he scooped me up and strode toward his house. “Please put me down,” I cried, the pain in my leg agonizing where he held it against his arm.
“Two seconds,” he promised, turning the handle on his front door and then lowering me to the couch.
I grabbed my thigh, only to hiss when I remembered the pieces of wood in my hands. “Fuck my life,” I moaned, my hands shaking as I held them out. My jumbled brain couldn’t decide what to do, so I just sat there, my entire body shaking and a tear falling down my cheek.
“We’re going to fix this,” Bishop said as he inspected my hands. “Damn, these are some big splinters, but at least I can pull them with a tweezer. Hang tight.”
He disappeared into the kitchen, and I moaned again, my leg absolutely done for the day. I knew this was a bad idea. I should have listened to my body. Instead, I’m going to die of embarrassment on my neighbor’s couch. I was going to swing my legs down off the couch and leave, but I couldn’t decide if I’d even make it to the door, much less to my apartment. Bishop strode back into the room, his muscular thighs carrying him without a second thought, which made me jealous. The way the muscles bunched beneath his pants made me hot and bothered, but I wasn’t going to think too much about that.
“Just relax. I’ll have you fixed up in no time,” he promised, going to work on the splinters with the tweezer from the first aid kit. “I was going to ask your mom about that fence. I realized what bad shape it was in, but I wasn’t sure which one of us owned it.”
He pulled a particularly stubborn splinter, and I inhaled sharply, his head coming up immediately. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to be as careful as I can be.”
“It’s okay,” I answered, wishing I could fall through the couch and melt away into the ground. “It was dumb to grab the fence.”
He lowered my right hand to the couch and reached across me for my left, his arm brushing my belly and leaving a trail of blazing heat across my skin. I swallowed around the lump in my throat when he rested his arm on my hip bone with his head bowed to finish the splinter removal. It hurt so much I bit my lip to keep from crying out. “It’s human nature to try to catch yourself when you start to fall. I should have asked about that fence sooner.”
I squeaked, and he glanced up when I started breathing staccato to kill the pain.
“What?”
“Hip,” I forced out. “Arm on hip.”
His arm came up instantly, and he grasped my face, forcing me to hold his gaze. “Breathe in slowly. You have to breathe slowly, or you’re going to pass out.”
I followed his directions until the pain passed. “That’s better,” I promised, offering him a weak smile.
He released my face and went back to my hand, making sure his arm didn’t touch me anywhere. “We’re almost done here. Do you know who owns the fence?”
I knew he was trying to take my mind off the pain, so I nodded and took another deep breath. “We own it. Dad and I talked about that fence about a week ago, and he agreed it needs to come down. He planned to remove it when he got back and mark the property at the front and the back. It looks like I just accelerated that plan. I’ll ask Brady to help me pull the rest of it out, so it’s not an eyesore.”
“Who’s Brady?” he asked, his brow going down toward his nose.
“He’s a baker at The Fluffy Cupcake. He’s married to my best friend, who is the other baker.”
“Haylee, right? Your sister from another mister?” he asked, grasping the last splinter.
“Darla McFinkle,” I spat. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep the venom from my voice whenever I said her name. “She deserves to rot in jail for trying to kill Haylee.”
“I can’t disagree,” he said, setting the tweezer down before he handed me an antiseptic wipe. “I’ll let you do this part. I don’t like hurting beautiful women.”
I smiled weakly and accepted the wipe from him. “Thanks for the help with the splinters. That will save me some pain tomorrow when I have to pan all those cupcakes.” I swiped at my hands with the wipe, biting my lip to keep from grimacing at the stinging sensation. I scrubbed at them until the
