pavement. “Your skin probably couldn’t breathe.”
“It’s itchy,” she mewled through puffy lips.
“Well, don’t scratch.” Burke picked up the icepack and freed a corner to wipe more of the inky eyeliner off her cheek. Lipstick came next. It reminded him of when she was four or so and Hayne used to wipe her face after dinner. She’d sit like an obedient doll, the only time she stayed still at that age. At any age, really.
Before long, her lips were a rosy pink again, if reddened in a few spots. It was odd, having her stare up at him while he dabbed and wiped. Almost intimate. Suddenly, he was looking down and seeing her face, as if he’d never looked at it before.
Hell if she wasn’t pretty, even with all those bumps. Her eyes glowed, a little greener than he remembered, her cheekbones looked smooth and soft beneath his fingertips. Had she always had such a fragile jawbone, the stubborn chin jutting out until it was almost cute? He didn’t remember her that way, but it was undoubtedly CB there. Just…more.
She curled her fingers around his wrist when he ran out of things to clean but hadn’t found a reason to remove his hands yet. “Burke—”
The crowd of men roared again at the sound of the front door’s bells, making them both blink. Burke stepped back, handing her the towel and mentally shoving at the flush of heat that had no explanation. CB was pink again, but he wasn’t about to clean any more make-up off her. Ever. Unfortunately, he turned to see what was making Ben cackle like mad, finding only the old man’s bushy eyebrows waggling back at him.
“Hey, Halifax! Who’s the filly?”
Burke whirled to see Luke Hanson standing on the threshold of Shaky Jakes. He finally understood who the strangers mixed with the locals in the bar were. Luke’s friends—mostly old, some new. It was some sort of impromptu party for the schmuck, and of course, CB had to go waltzing right into it. The girl had the luck of a troll.
As he was about to tell Luke to do something unpleasant to himself, CB reached out and grabbed his arm again. Luckily, her back was still to Luke, but of course she recognized his voice. She shook her head in a staccato motion, a look as close to begging as she could get in her eyes. Didn’t she know he couldn’t take it when she looked like that?
“No one you’d know, Hanson.”
Her grateful expression was going to do him in one of these days. He hated how she cared in the slightest what a jerk like Luke thought of her. He especially hated that she cared so much she’d do all this to herself. He reached out and brushed a wet tendril of rich red behind her ear, earning himself a sheen of tears and more damn gratitude. The bitterness in his mouth was getting hard to smile through.
Someday, she’d forget Luke. She’d go back to liking who she was. But until then, he figured he should keep her from making a fool of herself over the bastard.
“We have to get you out of here,” he whispered in her ear.
She nodded, allowing him to turn her in the stool to keep her back to Luke’s curious stare. “One big problem.”
“What’s that?”
“I can’t walk in these heels. I barely made it to the stool last time.”
“You always have to make things more difficult than they already are, don’t you?” He sighed while she laid her forehead against his chest, rubbing her face against the fabric of his cotton shirt. Momentarily distracted by the odd feeling, it took him a few seconds to see she wasn’t affectionately nuzzling him. “I said no scratching.”
Her head stopped moving.
“You gave me an idea though. Maybe we can get you out without his recognizing you if you pretend to be drunk. Think you can make it believable?”
“Sure, I’m probably still drunk from the other night anyway.”
“Whatever works.” He bent down to take the shoes off her feet. Did she always have such small ankles? Must be the nylons. CB was the sturdiest woman he knew. Shoes in
“It’s itchy,” she mewled through puffy lips.
“Well, don’t scratch.” Burke picked up the icepack and freed a corner to wipe more of the inky eyeliner off her cheek. Lipstick came next. It reminded him of when she was four or so and Hayne used to wipe her face after dinner. She’d sit like an obedient doll, the only time she stayed still at that age. At any age, really.
Before long, her lips were a rosy pink again, if reddened in a few spots. It was odd, having her stare up at him while he dabbed and wiped. Almost intimate. Suddenly, he was looking down and seeing her face, as if he’d never looked at it before.
Hell if she wasn’t pretty, even with all those bumps. Her eyes glowed, a little greener than he remembered, her cheekbones looked smooth and soft beneath his fingertips. Had she always had such a fragile jawbone, the stubborn chin jutting out until it was almost cute? He didn’t remember her that way, but it was undoubtedly CB there. Just…more.
She curled her fingers around his wrist when he ran out of things to clean but hadn’t found a reason to remove his hands yet. “Burke—”
The crowd of men roared again at the sound of the front door’s bells, making them both blink. Burke stepped back, handing her the towel and mentally shoving at the flush of heat that had no explanation. CB was pink again, but he wasn’t about to clean any more make-up off her. Ever. Unfortunately, he turned to see what was making Ben cackle like mad, finding only the old man’s bushy eyebrows waggling back at him.
“Hey, Halifax! Who’s the filly?”
Burke whirled to see Luke Hanson standing on the threshold of Shaky Jakes. He finally understood who the strangers mixed with the locals in the bar were. Luke’s friends—mostly old, some new. It was some sort of impromptu party for the schmuck, and of course, CB had to go waltzing right into it. The girl had the luck of a troll.
As he was about to tell Luke to do something unpleasant to himself, CB reached out and grabbed his arm again. Luckily, her back was still to Luke, but of course she recognized his voice. She shook her head in a staccato motion, a look as close to begging as she could get in her eyes. Didn’t she know he couldn’t take it when she looked like that?
“No one you’d know, Hanson.”
Her grateful expression was going to do him in one of these days. He hated how she cared in the slightest what a jerk like Luke thought of her. He especially hated that she cared so much she’d do all this to herself. He reached out and brushed a wet tendril of rich red behind her ear, earning himself a sheen of tears and more damn gratitude. The bitterness in his mouth was getting hard to smile through.
Someday, she’d forget Luke. She’d go back to liking who she was. But until then, he figured he should keep her from making a fool of herself over the bastard.
“We have to get you out of here,” he whispered in her ear.
She nodded, allowing him to turn her in the stool to keep her back to Luke’s curious stare. “One big problem.”
“What’s that?”
“I can’t walk in these heels. I barely made it to the stool last time.”
“You always have to make things more difficult than they already are, don’t you?” He sighed while she laid her forehead against his chest, rubbing her face against the fabric of his cotton shirt. Momentarily distracted by the odd feeling, it took him a few seconds to see she wasn’t affectionately nuzzling him. “I said no scratching.”
Her head stopped moving.
“You gave me an idea though. Maybe we can get you out without his recognizing you if you pretend to be drunk. Think you can make it believable?”
“Sure, I’m probably still drunk from the other night anyway.”
“Whatever works.” He bent down to take the shoes off her feet. Did she always have such small ankles? Must be the nylons. CB was the sturdiest woman he knew. Shoes in
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