Page 152 of Broken Trust
One arm under my knees. The other around my back. Solid. Steady. Safe.
“Quit fighting me,” he says into my ear, and I still instantly.
“I am not fighting you.”
His eyes flick down to mine, and I wrap my arms tighter around his neck. Closing my eyes, I run my nose along his jaw and inhale deeply.
“Mmm.”
“Doc?”
I peek up at him. His warm breath brushes over my lips, causing them to part slightly, and his gaze drops to my mouth.
“Unlock the door,” he says hoarsely.
I blink.
Oh, right. The keys. I’m still holding them in my hand, so I unravel my arm from his neck, place the right one in the lock, and turn.
He steps inside the door and finally sets me carefully onto my feet.
The second he lets go, the world sways sideways again.
I catch myself on the kitchen island.
Axle raises one dark brow.
Heat floods my cheeks.
I blow a strand of hair out of my face and smooth both hands down the front of my dress, thinking that somehow makes it less embarrassing.
“I’m good,” I announce.
“Uh-huh.”
“And I have to pee.”
He folds his arms across his chest, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe. “Do you need assistance with that too?”
I blink. “What?”
His eyes go to the hallway. “Walking to the bathroom?”
“Nope. I can manage.”
The corner of his mouth lifts.
Stupid, handsome cowboy.
“Careful.”
The amusement in his voice makes me scowl.
But the urgency in my bladder has me half running, half drunkenly dancing toward the bathroom without another word.
I hear him chuckling behind me.
“Shut up!” I yell over my shoulder.
