Page 85 of Work It Out
All in all, he’d been better.
He didn’t tell her that, though. He leaned up and kissed the tip of her nose. “All good, cupcake. Just be careful with your knee when you get up if you want me to stay that way.”
Pink colored her cheeks, but she brazened it out. “Yeah, might need that later.” She eased up and off him, then helped him sit up, since his other hand was occupied with panicked pork. Rayah stood and took Hogrid, holding him tight to her chest with one hand. Jake shoved to his feet, only to have his right ankle give out on him.
He crashed back to his ass with a curse. Rayah barely managed to stay upright. “What’s wrong?” she demanded, kneeling beside him.
“This is going to sound extremely drama llama of me, but I think I turned my ankle. Don’t tell Mason.”
“Crap.” She looked around, but there was no one in sight. Her phone made an appearance, but she frowned at it. “No service. You?”
He pulled his cell from his pocket, grateful it hadn’t shattered in one of today’s rapid trips to the ground. He wasn’t surprised when he, too, had no bars. He looked at the pig, who’d snuggled his head against Rayah’s breasts. “Don’t get too comfy, dude. Those pillows are mine.” It sounded crazy, but the little turd was gloating.
“Seriously? You’re getting territorial over my boobs with a piglet?”
“My boobs,” he corrected. “You lost your privileges when you tried to squish them off, and you were mine before he came along. My boobs. Mine.”
“Jake!” she whisper-shouted, probably in consideration of the pillow thief. “We need to concentrate on getting you back so Doc can look at your ankle. Let’s see if we can get you on your feet. I’ll be your crutch.”
“We can give it a shot, but I’m not sure you’re tall enough to pull crutch duty. Cane maybe, but—”
“Up.” Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she grasped his connected hand in hers.
Another man might’ve struggled with his pride, tried to get up on his own, spare the little woman. Jake knew better. She was strong enough to help haul him up off the ground, physically and metaphorically. What more could a man want?
With much groaning and gnashing of teeth, Jake climbed to his feet—or foot, rather. Thank God and Sergeant Sasquatch for pistol squats. The right foot wouldn’t support much. He’d always had issues with his joints, a common problem in POTS patients. Knees got wrenched and ankles got twisted. They healed a lot faster when he didn’t push it.
Rayah tucked herself under his arm but, as he’d feared, she was much too short for the job. Somehow, they hobbled to the dry part of the bank, but things looked hopeless. She couldn’t go for help, what with the handcuffs and all. Hopping as far as he had had been treacherous. He’d never make it up the hill without hurting one of them and likely losing Hogrid in the process.
Shit. Just…shit.
Rayah huffed out a breath and gave him a long, hard stare. “All right, Newman. Here’s the deal. I don’t know that Zandar’s coming back. You know how easily distracted he is, and he’s been gone too long. Your ankle’s already swelling.” She jabbed a finger at the offending body part and, sure enough, it was puffy. “And I don’t like the look of the clouds rolling in. I’ll tell you what we’re going to do, and you’ll put your pride in your pocket and accept that, short of staying out here for God knows how long, it’s our only option.” Shoulders back, she braced herself. “You’ll hold Hogrid, and I’ll carry you up the hill. Hopefully, someone will be able to see us from there.”
He gaped at her. She couldn’t be serious. Except that was her active bitch face. “Cupcake, I weigh almost twice as much as you.”
“And I squat more than Blaine. It’s not that big a deal.”
“The hell—”
Rayah shoved Hogrid at him. It was catch the pig or let him fall. Then she bent over, draped him sideways over her shoulders with their cuffed hands at his hip, and hauled his six-foot-plus frame off the ground like it was nothing.
“Rayah, stop! You’ll hurt yourself.”
“Oh, shut up, Jake.” In truth, she sounded more irritated than strained. “You told me I could carry you off anytime. Well, I’m calling your bluff. Besides, if Drew Barrymore can do it, so can I.” She started back the way they’d come like she was out for a stroll.
Well, damn. That was pretty freaking hot.
Rayah’s step faltered. He didn’t bother hiding his smile.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I can’t help it,” Jake admitted, his cock lengthening more at her sass. “Buck those traditional gender roles, cupcake. Haul your man back to your cave and take what you want! I’m totally down. 100 percent consent here.”
“Oh. My. God,” she huffed, almost up the hill already. “You’re such a dork.”
“Ah, but I’m your dork,” he said, knowing she’d let the comment pass without acknowledgment.
So he was flabbergasted when she reached up to pat his ass again and replied, “That you are, Newman. That you are.”
