Page 23 of The Matchmaker's Cottage

He cleared his throat, unwilling to allow himself to delve too deeply intothatPandora’s box of family history, especially not when they needed to focus on reaching their destination.

As if on cue, the rain began in earnest. Julia, finally realizing what was going on, looked up in surprise.

“Shit!” She looked over at Ethan wide-eyed. “Shit!”

“Yeah” was all he could respond, futilely holding his hands over his head, glad to focus on something, anything, else. “Any chance there’s shelter nearby?”

Julia groaned, looking around frantically, running her hands through her already-damp hair. “Honestly, we’re more than halfway to town, but who knows how long we’ll be stuck thereif this doesn’t let up.” She chewed on her lip in thought before looking at him grimly. “I think we just need to head back. Make a run for it.”

Fucking great. Ethan wasn’t opposed to running—at least not the runs he was used to doing as part of his workout regimen every morning before going home, taking a cold shower, and making himself a green smoothie. But running through the forest in a rainstorm? Not exactly his idea of a great time.

Regardless, it needed to be done. And when Julia took off without so much as a heads-up, Ethan had no choice but to follow her.

They raced along the path they had just taken, retracing their steps through the increasingly sodden foliage as the rain came down heavier and heavier. They were both completely drenched at this point. Ethan could feel his shirt sticking to him uncomfortably, his pants getting more and more spattered with mud and dirt every time his shoes made contact with the sloppy ground. One small blessing—he had changed into his running shoes before coming down to meet Julia. Although now the grays and whites of his immaculately cared-for designer sneakers had rapidly devolved into blacks and browns.

He could see Julia just a few strides ahead of him, leading the way. She was no slouch, he had to give her that. Her pace was competitive, as it always had been, giving him a run for his money even when they were kids. Still, all it would take would be a few quick strides to get in front of her.

Except the forest path forked and veered a few times along their way, and he didn’t know where the fuck they were going, and this wasn’t a pissing contest or a race to see who could get to the end of the schoolyard first. They were getting moresoaked by the minute, and the split of lightning in the sky, followed by a jarring crack of thunder, felt like a warning to get the hell away from the big trees they were darting past.

“This way!” Julia shouted behind her, sharply turning right at a three-way fork he didn’t recognize. She had slowed down quite a bit and he followed closely behind her, trying not to get too close and trip her up or bump her.

They made it through to another clearing and Ethan could see the top of the cottage poking up just over the hill. He stopped briefly, bracing his hands on his knees and taking in big gulps of air as the rain pelted down on him painfully. He was used to running, sure, but he’d already been starving and exhausted, and this had just done him in for good. He was going to need a second.

He looked up to see if Julia had made it past the hill, filing away a comment about her ability to go into beast mode so easily, when he caught sight of her a few yards away from him on her hands and knees.

“Gem!” He bolted over to her with energy he didn’t even realize he had, dropping to the ground next to her, the knees of his chinos be damned. “Gem, are you okay?”

She groaned, and it sounded watery in a way that frightened him.

“Hey.” He tentatively put his hand on her back. “Are you hurt?”

“My ankle,” she bit out. “I think I twisted it.” She groaned again, dropping her head to the grass.

He barely felt the rain hitting him now. All his attention was focused on her injury and the pain she must be feeling.

“Can I see?” He kept his hand on her back, since she hadn’tasked him to remove it yet or given any indication that she even noticed it, and angled his head to try to look at her face more clearly.

Though partially hidden by the sleeve of her sweater, he could still make out that her expression was screwed up tightly in pain. He felt his jaw clench.

“Julia,” he said softly, purposely not using her nickname now that he had his wits about him a bit more, “let me just take a look to see how swollen it is and whether you can put some weight on it to make it back to the house.”

“Thissucks,” she growled before sitting up and putting her leg out for him to inspect. “So fucking stupid.”

He took her foot carefully, trying not to pay too much attention to the bare leg itself, pulling the sock down to see if her ankle was swollen.

“Fuck!” she shouted as he attempted to ease her shoe off. “Ethan, thathurts.” The last word ended on a sob, and he stopped immediately, shifting his hands to her toes and her calf, respectively, alleviating some of the pressure on her ankle. His chest squeezed painfully at the sight of her, sodden and miserable.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, heart pounding rapidly as they continued to be drenched by the torrential rain. “What if you just try and stand? And we’ll look at it inside?”

She was nodding even before he could finish his sentence, and he could see her desperation to get out of her current position of weakness and actuallydosomething about it.

“Here.” He stood up first, ignoring how soaked and uncomfortable he was, and offered her his hand.

She hesitated briefly before accepting it, locking her fingers and thumb around his, and gritting her teeth. He watchedcarefully as she placed her weight on her good leg, trying to keep her bad one hovering above the ground. She made it about halfway up, and he went to grip her arm with his other hand to help hoist her up more easily, but she lost her balance and ended up putting too much weight on her bad ankle.

“Agh!” she cried out just as he drew her up rapidly, pulling her against him. Her head dropped to his shoulder as she took in several deep breaths. He could feel her nails digging into his biceps as she gathered herself and attempted to take control of the pain.

“Okay,” she breathed out after a beat, her voice still strained. “I can do this.” Pulling away from him slowly, she hopped to the side to put some space between them. He kept a hand wrapped around her upper arm, reluctant to let her go for fear of what would happen if the ankle couldn’t withstand the weight she was about to put on it. Luckily, she allowed him that small measure of grace, likely because she, too, was worried about dropping like a ton of bricks.