herself. The shower not only washed away the caked on blood from her hair, but also stripped her of what little energy she had left.
“Jack?” Jenna frowned to find the cabin empty, no Jack, no dogs.
Oh great!
She took in her surroundings, lost as to how she could get from point A to point B without falling flat on her face.
What the…?
One of the chairs from the dinette set sat up against the wall directly beside her.
It wasn’t there before...of course, Jack. Just when I think the guy can’t get any better, he pulls a stunt like this.
She sniffled, failing to stop the few tears from falling. Exhaustion, coupled with his sweet acts of kindness, equaled no chance in hell of not being a crybaby .
Jenna inspected the chair. Should I sit and wait or can I…?
She grinned mischievously, knowing Jack would have a fit if he walked in on her. She gripped the outer rungs of the chair and straightened her body, until her slow-to-heal ribs made it painfully clear to stop.
It can’t be more than six feet to the back of the sofa. I can do this.
Using a short shuffle-and-push step she made it to the couch. She eyed the seat of the chair longingly. No, if I sit now, I’ll never make it on my own.
She summoned a fresh surge of energy…ignoring each muscle’s cry out in revolt of the final steps. If she had an ounce of strength left, she would have done a victory dance having made it on her own. As it was, she dropped the second half of her descent to the couch and closed her eyes until the streak of pain the action took on her ribs subsided
Completely and utterly spent, the crackling fire captured her attention—mesmerized by red turned orange, she watched gold tips snap like the crack of a whip, sending sparks up the black metal pipe.
Jenna stared at the fire until her pulse returned to normal.
There’s a fireplace in almost every room of the estate, and not one of them, even remotely makes me feel as warm or comforted.
She lifted her legs to stretch out on the sofa, tucking the blankets under them as best she could. The heat of the fire soon warmed her outstretched hands and chased the goose bumps from her freshly scrubbed skin. It feels so good to be clean . She splayed the fingers on her good hand and pushed them through her wet hair.
“Ouch!” It was going to take forever to work through her unruly, tangled curls. She huffed and leaned back against her pillows. The effort of taking a shower left her completely wiped out. If I don’t address the knots while it’s wet I’ll have a much bigger problem on my hands.
Jenna slowly sat up again and repeated the process, only to snag another tangle.
“Ohh!” She dropped her hand and flopped back. “Ouch! Crap!” Her ribs were on fire, having pushed them to the limit.
A cool breeze ended her tirade, and she looked over the back of the sofa to find Jack grinning at her.
“Are you okay?” He chuckled.
“Just peachy, thanks for asking.” No, do not cry. You made it this far without tears.
“Would you like to use my brush?” He took off his coat and boots and ducked into his bedroom, reappearing in seconds with the item in hand.
She saw that he took notice of the kitchen chair still sitting behind the couch, but he said nothing. No scolding, no smart-ass remark, no congrats on making it on her own. The sting of disappointment for not being praised for her accomplishment came unexpectedly.
More than a little embarrassed, Jenna gratefully took the brush from his hands, fumbling with a way to hold it with her fingers taped together.
Jack snatched the brush back from her.
“Hey, why’d you do that?”
He rounded the couch to stand beside her. “Scoot up a bit.”
“What?”
“I’ll brush your hair if you scoot up so I can sit behind you.”
His offer left her without words. It would never have crossed her mind to ask for help with her hair from him, or any man for that matter.
He sat behind her and wedged a pillow between them for her to
“Jack?” Jenna frowned to find the cabin empty, no Jack, no dogs.
Oh great!
She took in her surroundings, lost as to how she could get from point A to point B without falling flat on her face.
What the…?
One of the chairs from the dinette set sat up against the wall directly beside her.
It wasn’t there before...of course, Jack. Just when I think the guy can’t get any better, he pulls a stunt like this.
She sniffled, failing to stop the few tears from falling. Exhaustion, coupled with his sweet acts of kindness, equaled no chance in hell of not being a crybaby .
Jenna inspected the chair. Should I sit and wait or can I…?
She grinned mischievously, knowing Jack would have a fit if he walked in on her. She gripped the outer rungs of the chair and straightened her body, until her slow-to-heal ribs made it painfully clear to stop.
It can’t be more than six feet to the back of the sofa. I can do this.
Using a short shuffle-and-push step she made it to the couch. She eyed the seat of the chair longingly. No, if I sit now, I’ll never make it on my own.
She summoned a fresh surge of energy…ignoring each muscle’s cry out in revolt of the final steps. If she had an ounce of strength left, she would have done a victory dance having made it on her own. As it was, she dropped the second half of her descent to the couch and closed her eyes until the streak of pain the action took on her ribs subsided
Completely and utterly spent, the crackling fire captured her attention—mesmerized by red turned orange, she watched gold tips snap like the crack of a whip, sending sparks up the black metal pipe.
Jenna stared at the fire until her pulse returned to normal.
There’s a fireplace in almost every room of the estate, and not one of them, even remotely makes me feel as warm or comforted.
She lifted her legs to stretch out on the sofa, tucking the blankets under them as best she could. The heat of the fire soon warmed her outstretched hands and chased the goose bumps from her freshly scrubbed skin. It feels so good to be clean . She splayed the fingers on her good hand and pushed them through her wet hair.
“Ouch!” It was going to take forever to work through her unruly, tangled curls. She huffed and leaned back against her pillows. The effort of taking a shower left her completely wiped out. If I don’t address the knots while it’s wet I’ll have a much bigger problem on my hands.
Jenna slowly sat up again and repeated the process, only to snag another tangle.
“Ohh!” She dropped her hand and flopped back. “Ouch! Crap!” Her ribs were on fire, having pushed them to the limit.
A cool breeze ended her tirade, and she looked over the back of the sofa to find Jack grinning at her.
“Are you okay?” He chuckled.
“Just peachy, thanks for asking.” No, do not cry. You made it this far without tears.
“Would you like to use my brush?” He took off his coat and boots and ducked into his bedroom, reappearing in seconds with the item in hand.
She saw that he took notice of the kitchen chair still sitting behind the couch, but he said nothing. No scolding, no smart-ass remark, no congrats on making it on her own. The sting of disappointment for not being praised for her accomplishment came unexpectedly.
More than a little embarrassed, Jenna gratefully took the brush from his hands, fumbling with a way to hold it with her fingers taped together.
Jack snatched the brush back from her.
“Hey, why’d you do that?”
He rounded the couch to stand beside her. “Scoot up a bit.”
“What?”
“I’ll brush your hair if you scoot up so I can sit behind you.”
His offer left her without words. It would never have crossed her mind to ask for help with her hair from him, or any man for that matter.
He sat behind her and wedged a pillow between them for her to
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