Page 22 of Reckless Love

“Are you okay?” Stephen asks, his voice gruff.

When I open my eyes, he’s peering down at me, his scotch-colored eyes brimming with so much concern that I can’t resist cupping his cheek with my uninjured hand. He leans into the contact ever so slightly, and a zing of triumph shoots through me.

“I’ve always been accident prone,” I murmur.

“You have,” Stephen agrees. “But this one looks like it hurts.”

“You going to fix me up?”

“So good it’ll be like it never happened.”

“You’re that good at fixing cuts?”

“I’m good at a lot of things.” There’s the faintest quirk to his lips.

“I remember,” I whisper, inching closer.

“Got it!” Landon says, holding a red bag over his head as he tears back into the kitchen.

Reluctantly, I step back from Stephen as Landon squeezes between us. Stephen chuckles as he holds onto my hand with the paper towel covering it.

“I’ll help,” Landon says.

“You want to play doctor?” Stephen asks, setting my hand on the island while he digs through the bag.

“Are you a doctor too?” he asks.

“No, but I had to learn a lot of emergency first aid for this job.”

“Why?” Landon asks.

“My job is to stop people from getting hurt, and I’m very good at that. But if something does happen, my job is to help.”

“I’m a good helper,” Landon says.

The look Stephen gives him is filled with fondness, and then he walks Landon through cleaning, sealing, and bandaging my two cuts. His patience with Landon’s questions and enthusiasm for helping cause that earlier warmth to return. Even though my fingers hurt, my soul feels settled, like it’s finally landed back where it belongs.

When Landon runs the first aid kit back to the front foyer, Stephen cleans the counter and then slices the bread for me.

“Did you do a lot of first aid work while you were gone off the island?”

He glances at me, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he tidies up the breadcrumbs, butters four pieces of bread with the garlic spread, turns on the second oven to toast them, and then puts everything away.

“Why are you like this?” I say when it’s clear he won’t answer. “One minute, you’re open, and the next, you’re so closed off.”

When he doesn’t answer again, I say, “Raul told me you’d been in an accident. A bad one.”

“Your husband shouldn’t be gossiping about his employees,” Stephen says, his jaw tight. “I’ll be at the front entrance if you need me.”

“Stephen!” I call to him, but he ignores me.

A few seconds later, the quiet conversation between him and Landon filters to me, and I let out a sigh of frustration.

Landon and I eat dinner together, watch a bit of TV, and then I take him to bed. When I come back down, Stephen and Datu are still there.

“I thought you’d be gone,” I say.

“How’s your hand?” Stephen asks.