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Dallas shifted his head off my lap to give me space, and I forced my legs over the side and set my bare feet on the floor. I had to hang on to the small wins right now. Like the fact I didn’t flop back over. The IV bag by the bed was probably one reason for that.
Next step, get my panties off. I parted the towel to assess the situation as to how to remove my panties without collapsing onto the floor.
Letting the towel fall, I hooked my thumb at the waistband of the wet panties and shimmied my ass on the bed to help move them farther down. Once they were to my knees, I wiggled them down my legs and kicked the panties free from my ankles.
At the sight of them on the floor and exposed to anyone who may walk in, I knew what I had to do next. I could spread my legs open for the doctor at the OBGYN’s office, but I had to hide my panties from being seen by the man who held me up in the shower.
I hadn’t been saved from human traffickers only to die of embarrassment when Carter walked in and saw my underwear there.
Here goes. Re-wrapping the towel around my body, I lowered myself to the floor and reached for them. Snatching the pink undies, I shifted over to hide them inside my wet and discarded jeans, lost my balance—of-freaking-course—and had to let go of the towel to save myself from a lovely face-plant disaster.
Dallas jumped down next to me, barking to alert his dad.
“Shhh, Dallas,” I pleaded once I’d corralled my thoughts, but it was probably a little too late. “Don’t rat me out. I wasn’t supposed to move, remember?”
The door flung open like a storm had blown it inward, and I peeked over my shoulder to see that storm staring at me, his muscular body filling the doorway.
“Diana.” Carter dropped what he was holding and flew to my side, taking a knee. “You okay? What happened?”
“I’m good.” I tried to hold the towel together but that required balancing myself on the hand still awkwardly holding my panties. Little drops of water from my heavy, wet hair rolled down my scalp to my cheeks and splattered onto the hardwood, and I stared at the droplets in embarrassment until Carter picked me up.
On his feet, my ass now cradled between his arms, I managed to pin the towel over my breasts. Hopefully, I’d been fast enough to hide the nakedness he’d worked so hard not to see when I’d practically served it up on a shaking, exhausted, terrified, grungy platter in the shower.
Carter stared at my face, and despite the fact I didn’t have on my glasses, I could easily make out the definition of his bladed jawline tensing beneath his black stubble. His nostrils were flared, and his eyes skated to my hand next. You know . . . the one still fisting the panties.
“Sorry,” I said when he continued to quietly study me. “My panties,” I blurted, my nerves splintering into fragments of chaos. “I was trying to hide them.”
He angled his head, his “why on earth would you do that?” expression loud and clear there.
Instead of making me spell it out for him, he lowered me to the bed, placing me in a seated position, and stepped back. Dallas immediately joined me, curling up at my side.
Searching for something to say that would make me sound like the grown-ass woman I was now rather than that young college kid he’d saved forever ago, I found myself following his strong tattooed forearm as his palm went to his head. I became jealous of his hand as it raked through his wet hair, mussing it in a way a girl could only dream of doing.
My traitorous eyes flew next to the hard planes of his bronzed chest, and when he turned, I couldn’t hide my gasp at the sight before me. I’d somehow missed the angel wings that took up his entire back when he’d first left the room. The tattoo was utter perfection.
Still robbed of speech, I gaped at him while he bent over to pick up what he’d dropped to get to me. It took a few seconds for my brain to resume functioning at normal levels, and I quickly slid the panties under my ass.
Facing me, clothes and a water bottle in hand, he came over. There was a large crucifix around his neck I only just noticed.
So, that’s what was digging into my skin in the shower.
He quietly set down the pile of clothes, then removed the cap from the water bottle. His eyes were on my bare thighs as he offered it to me, and I caught a light shake of his head while accepting the drink. The water was heavenly for my parched throat, and I sucked down the entire thing.
“I have broth heating up in the kitchen. You need to slowly ease into food or you’ll get sick.” He took the empty bottle from me and crushed it between his palms before tossing it onto the bed.
“You haven’t changed yet.” My gaze snapped to his belt, triggering a memory from earlier.
He followed my line of sight. “Sorry about that,” he remarked. “We were being shot at, and you were resisting.”
“I’ve never been belted before,” I whispered, feeling my body instantly blush.
The side of his lip hitched. “I’d hope not.” He closed the space between us and leaned in, our cheeks nearly touching, and my heart thwacked with ridiculous disappointment that it was only to show me something.
Ah, a phone. It’d been bundled up inside the clothes.
“Do you want to talk to your mom?”
“Maybe not in a towel?”
