Page 33 of Searching for Bristol
Rocky snorted. “I might be single, but even I know when a woman says she’s ‘fine’ or ‘nothing’s wrong,’ she’s not fine and something isdefinitelywrong. You want to talk about it?”
Bristol sighed and shook her head. “I’m good.”
“You aren’t. Talk to me, Punky. Did I do something? Ornotdo something? What can I do to help you?”
“Not do something?” Bristol exclaimed. “Rocky, you’ve been nothing but amazing. Feeding me. Giving me a place to stay. You’ve practically glued yourself to my side ever since you found me.”
“So you need space?”
Bristol made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat, shaking her head once more.
Rocky walked closer and sat on the edge of the bed. Bristol thought that it was impressive he wasn’t afraid to enter the lion’s den, so to speak. Most men she knew would’ve retreated at the first sign of a woman in a bad mood. But ofcourseRocky hadn’t.
“Let me guess. You’re feeling claustrophobic. You hate that you can’t get up and do things for yourself. You’re appreciative of me being here, but also resentful. Am I close?”
She stared at him in confusion. “How do you know that?”
He chuckled. “I’ve been there. Laid up while injured. Took a bullet to the shoulder on a mission once. I was shipped to Germany while the rest of my team continued on without me. I was alone, and while the nurses were pleasant and nice, I was in a strange place and hurting. I wasn’t allowed to get up, and all it took was a few days of me having to lie in bed all day to go stark-raving mad. Luckily, my injury wasn’t that bad, and I was sent back to the States after less than a week, but still. What can I do to help?”
Bristol’s stomach clenched at the thought of this man being hurt. She ran her gaze up and down his body, as if looking for any signs of injury. It was crazy, because Rocky had carried her over six miles through the woods with a heavy pack on his back…he was obviously more than healed from an old injury, but still.
“Bristol?”
She shook her head slightly, realizing he was waiting for her to answer his question. “I’ll be okay. Yes, I’m feeling all of what you described, but I know I’m lucky.”
He studied her for a long moment, then said, “Just because you know you’re lucky, doesn’t mean you aren’t feeling confined and frustrated. If you could do one thing right this second, what would it be?”
Bristol didn’t even have to think about it. “Take a shower. A real one. I mean, I know I took one a few days ago, but I cut it short because my leg hurt so much.”
“What else?”
“Make something. A pair of earrings. A sculpture. Or better yet, work on a stained-glass piece.”
“Hmmm, not sure I can help with that right this moment. I’m guessing the big box store isn’t going to have the materials you need to create your art, huh?”
Amazingly, Bristol smiled. “Not really. Although that’s how I got started. My mom bought me a huge box of beads as a kid, and I was hooked.”
Rocky smiled back and asked gently, “You ready to get up and have me take you to the bathroom?”
Bristol did her best to shrug off her grumpiness. This situation wasn’t Rocky’s fault. It was her own. There were so many things she could’ve done differently when Mike had sprung his sex-fest idea on her. “Yeah, I’m ready,” she said, pushing the covers off her legs.
As he’d done many times over the last few days, Rocky gently picked her up and carried her out of the guest room into the hall. He brought her into the bathroom and placed her down on the toilet. The first few times he’d done so, Bristol had blushed so hard, she could feel her face burning. But he was so nonchalant about it all, she’d gotten used to their routine.
The second he left the room, Bristol shimmied her underwear and sweatpants down, ignoring the twinge of pain the movement caused. She did her business, then awkwardly pulled her clothes back on. She reached for the toothbrush and toothpaste Rocky left close enough so she could reach them, and quickly brushed her teeth. She couldn’t reach the sink to spit, so she had to use the small bowl Rocky had brought in for her.
Doc Snow had removed her stitches yesterday, and had put a regular plaster cast on her leg. She knew it was the next step in her recovery, but she hated the heavy cast and her leg itched almost unbearably. She had no doubt the itchiness was all in her head, but it was still annoying.
Taking a deep breath, Bristol did her best to center herself. Find her optimism once more. The room smelled like her roommate. Rocky usually showered and got ready before he came in to see if she was awake and help her start her day. Inhaling deeply, she couldn’t help but feel jealous of the scent of his soap. God, what she wouldn’t give to be able to stand up, step over the edge of the bathtub and wash herself. It didn’t even matter if she had to use his masculine body wash instead of her usual assortment of flowery and sweet-smelling soaps she had at her house back in Kingsport.
A soft knock on the door brought her out of her musings. “I’m done,” she called out. Rocky entered, and as if it was completely normal to pick up a woman who was sitting on the toilet after doing her business, he took her in his arms and headed out of the bathroom, careful not to bang her leg on the doorjamb.
Instead of bringing her back to her room, Rocky carried her into the living room and got her settled in the easy chair. He pulled up an ottoman and carefully arranged her leg. He brought some pillows and a blanket over, and when he was done tucking her in, leaned over and put his hands on the arms of the chair.
“I thought a change of pace would do you good.”
“Th—” She remembered at the last second his aversion to being thanked. “I appreciate it,” she told him.
He grinned, and butterflies took flight in Bristol’s belly. The man was extremely good-looking, but when he smiled? It upped his hotness tenfold.
