Page 82 of Fighting Chance

Part of me wants to ask what the hell that was all about and why she and Bella burst into a fit of laughter but Emmy is still clutched in my arms crying her poor little heart out, and I have to admit, my heart isn’t faring much better than hers.

I need to know he’s okay, physically and emotionally.

“Cindy and I will wait here. It’s just through that door,” Bella offers, pointing to the door to my left.

“Thank you!” I call over my shoulder as I push my way through after lightly knocking.

Kieran, lying on a makeshift bed, sits up abruptly, the blood that was dripping down his lip and along his chin now dry, butEmmy’s tears find a new wave at the sight, making his face crumble.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t get her to settle. I thought maybe she needed to see you were all right.”

Kieran shakes his head, waving me off. “No apology necessary.” He blows out a breath to steady himself before he tries to move off the bed. “I’m glad you brought her. Hey, Emmy, sweetie.”

His voice grows tight, his muscles straining. I quickly make my way over, placing my free hand on his thigh to stop him. Even his pants are wet with sweat. “Don’t hurt yourself further,” I whisper.

Emmy clutches her hands to her chest, obviously fighting whether to lunge for him or not. Kieran holds out his hands, trying to give her a gentle smile, but it doesn’t soften the blood caking his face. “Come on, sweetie, Daddy’s all right.” He motions for her to move toward him. “I promise, come on.”

Ever so slowly, she tips forward and he jumps at the opportunity, sliding his hands under her arms and gently placing her in his lap. Her eyes stay glued to his face—to the blood.

Peering around the room, my eyes land on a box of Kleenex. I grab a few tissues, flicking on the tap and drowning out Kieran’s soft murmurs trying to reassure her.

“You might be believable if I wipe off the blood,” I tell him, holding up the wet tissues.

His brow quirks. “You want to play nurse with me, sunshine?”

The hurt feelings and tension from last night seem to have entirely evaporated, and a selfish part of me is feeling endlessly giddy over the fact he’s flirting with me again.

Another part is trying to tell mewhyI feel that way, but I’m choosing to ignore it entirely.

I scoff. “Clearly your head is fine if you’re still trying to flirt with me.”

Kieran places Emmy down beside him gently, her gaze never leaving him as he swings his legs over the bed and parts them, allowing me to move forward.

Now my brow rises.

He winks. “I promise not to bite.”

I fight off a laugh, not even bothering to point out that he’s not allowed to flirt with me while Emmy is here because if it takes his mind off any pain he’s feeling, I’ll happily let it slide.

And I missed his teasing, a small voice whispers.

Forcing myself to take a steadying breath, I step forward, trying to rein in the gasp that wants to escape as I stand between Kieran’s legs.

The heat of him burns my skin, the hairs along his legs tickling my waist. Biting my lip, I’m surprised I don’t draw blood as I physically force myself to not moan or shudder.

Averting Kieran’s eyes and the hypnotic nature of them, I concentrate on cleaning the dry blood along his cheeks, chin, and…lips.

With Kieran’s arm firmly around Emmy, keeping her tethered to his side, I lift the Kleenex and gently clasp his chin, surprised to find my hands steady as I ask, “Has someone come to take a look at your injuries?”

“What makes you think I’m injured?”

“The blood is a pretty dead giveaway.”

His voice lowers. “Not my blood.”

“Oh.”

The brush of his stubble along my fingers has a shiver wanting to wrack my body. Lifting another Kleenex to his face, I gently wipe away the blood, all the while ignoring the heat that’s pooling in my lower belly.