Page 2 of Hard To Fall
“Didn’t ask for help,” I say.
“You didn’t have to,” she replies easily. “You’re bleeding.”
I glance down. Sure enough, red liquid is beginning to seep through my shirt.
Huh.
She follows my gaze and nods once. “Thought so. Now sit.”
I scowl, but still let her push me onto the bench seat. “You the new medic?”
She smiles brighter, like my gruff attitude doesn’t touch her. “Nope.”
“Good,” I mutter. “Because I don’t need a medic.”
With magic fingers, she’s got my shirt unbuttoned and peels it back in record time, just enough to inspect the scrape along my ribs. I suck in a breath before I can stop myself.
Her eyes flick up, and one eyebrow arches. “Sensitive?”
“Only to bullshit,” I say.
“Mm,” she hums. “Must be exhausting.”
She dabs antiseptic against my skin, and it stings like hell, but at least it drowns out the pain radiating through my knee.
“Careful, sunshine,” I growl.
She pauses. “Sunshine?”
“You seem to be enjoying my pain a bit too much,” I bite out.
“So you admit you’re in pain?”
I grind my teeth as she leans in closer, voice dropping just enough to crawl under my skin. “You stayed on for eight seconds. I figured you could handle a little sting.”
My gaze drags over her face, down the white tank top she’s got no business wearing in a place like this, and further down her dust-smudged jeans that hug her curves tightly. She wears confidence like she was born with it and has a mouth that looks like it knows how to argue and enjoy it.
“Name?” I ask.
“Lily Mercer.”
“And who are you to this rodeo, if not a medic?”
She finishes taping me up, then straightens, brushing dirt from her hands. “The woman hired to save this rodeo.”
I snort. “Good luck. We don’t need saving.”
She smiles like she already knows everything about me. “You don’t accept help easily, do you?”
I push to my feet, knee screaming, towering over her now. She’s way too close, and instead of stepping back, all she does is tip her chin up, holding my glare.
“I don’t,” I say quietly.
“Good,” she replies. “Then I’m exactly where I'm supposed to be.”
We stare at each other, dust hanging thick between us.
I tip my hat, but not for the crowd this time. “Well,” I drawl, voice rough as gravel, “welcome to Hearts Bend, sunshine. We’re different here; you should try not to get trampled.”
