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“Thanks,” she muttered.
She turned toward him, pivoting on her right foot. A twinge of pain shot up her leg so suddenly she winced.
“What’s wrong?” Samuel asked.
“Nothing.”
“Jess…”
The warning in his voice had her rolling her eyes. What was with him?
“I don’t know, okay? I guess I strained or twisted my ankle. I didn’t even notice it until we’d been on the road for a while.”
He pointed at the bed. “Sit.”
“It’s fine,” she insisted.
His stony face was clear. He would hear no argument against his order.
She could push back. There was nothing to be done about her ankle. But she didn’t want to clash with him. Not after their talk this morning. She sighed and plopped down on the mattress. It was so firm her tail bone ached a little. That did not bode well for a restful night.
Samuel went to a knee in front of her.
She held up her hands. “Please, don’t.”
“Jess, right now your feet and legs are the most important defensive parts of your body. If you’re hurt, we need to know. If something happens, you have to be able to run. That is the most important thing right now, okay?”
That logic was hard to argue with. Still, she was perfectly able to assess herself, but she doubted Samuel would be satisfied. It was just her foot, anyway.
“I can take off my own shoe, you know?”
“Stop being difficult.” He frowned as he picked apart the laces. “Your shoes are still soaked.”
“Yeah, my feet feel like raisins. That’s probably most of what’s wrong. My feet just need to dry out and I’ll be fine.”
He glanced up at her with a flat stare that said plainly he wasn’t buying that story.
She managed to maintain her smile, and he went back to focusing on her foot.
Infuriating man.
He got the laces undone then carefully pried her sneaker off. She wiggled her toes within the damp sock that was partially stuck to her skin.
Yeah, she wanted to get her feet dry as soon as possible. But maybe after a nice, scalding hot shower.
Jessica reached down to peel off the sock, but Samuel already had his hand wrapped around her ankle and was stripping it off her.
She did not need this visual.
Her unwise crush on Samuel had enough fuel already. The last thing she wanted to add to her mental library was real-life footage of him taking an article of clothing off her. Even if it was a dirty, soaking wet sock. It was all too easy to imagine those fingers on other parts of her body removing very different garments.
She needed to stop.
Jessica bit her lip as he dropped the sock on the ground and began running his fingers over her ankle. His touch was warm and his strong hands were surprisingly gentle.
“Samuel?”
“Hm?”
