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Chewy sniffed and danced in her lap, his tail wagging. Guess he’d made his vote on Caine clear.
Unleashing a shaky breath, she took the bag.
The moment she did, Caine stepped back into the shadows and returned to his bike. Only then did she peer into the bag.
Her heart was a sudden bass beat in her chest. She pulled out a bottle of water. A bottle of Coke. And bottles of Excedrin, Aleve, and aspirin. Chewy sniffed each item as she pulled it out.
Emma could only stare at the small pharmacy she lined up on the stoop next to her. He’d…called someone to get her medicine? And they’d actually gone and bought it and then drove it to him—for her?
Who. Did. That?
“Is it…the right stuff?” he asked quietly, his voice coming to her from the darkness.
Seriously. No one did that. Who was this guy?
“I can’t believe you did this,” she said.
“Fuck. It’s not the right stuff?”
She shook away the disbelief. “No, no. It is. Thank you. I’m just…stunned.”
And totally not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not when this night had unleashed a marching band in her head—and that had been true before getting mugged, getting saved by a biker, and then…getting saved by him again?
She uncapped the Excedrin and the Aleve, fought through the foil seals and stuffed cotton balls, and greedily swallowed down two pills of each medicine with a long gulp of the Coke.
“I’ll pay you back as soon as I can,” she said, grateful beyond words. It’d been a long time since anyone had looked out for her like this. Not since the grandmother who’d raised her died three years ago.
He didn’t respond, and she had the strangest feeling that she’d said the wrong thing.
Emma debated. Resisted. Debated again. Then sat Chewy on her stoop and pointed at him with a “Stay.” Her stomach flipped as she stepped down to the sidewalk. But there was still that relief and even more of that fascination, and so she approached his bike like he was a lion who was maybe wild and would eat her alive but maybe, just maybe, tame and would let her pet him. Which was a totally weird way to think of a man, but whatever, it seemed right here. For this man.
Even though she couldn’t make out his face in the shadows, she felt his eyes on her almost immediately. Emma fisted her hands at her sides and forced her feet to keep moving until she reached the edge of the sidewalk just a few feet from his bike. From him.
“Thank you,” she said.
He palmed the cap on his head. “You said that already.”
His gruffness might’ve hurt her feelings if she hadn’t gotten the feeling that her gratitude made him uncomfortable. “Well, all of this is worth saying it more than once.”
He breathed out heavily from his nose, a sound of exhaustion…or exasperation. Emma didn’t know.
She stuffed her hands in her pockets. “You don’t have to stay, you know. I’ll be okay. Especially after the medicine.”
He crossed his arms. “I’m staying.”
“Why?”
“You want me to go?”
“No,” she rushed out, stepping down off the curb. Closer to him. Close enough that she caught the flash of his eyes in the dimness. “No, I don’t. I just don’t know why you’re going to such lengths to help me. That’s all. Curiosity.”
“Curiosity killed the…”
“…the cat. Yeah, yeah, I walked into that one, didn’t I?” She chuckled. “Seriously, though.”
“I let him get away.”
“What?”
Now his sigh was more like a growl. “The asshole who jumped you. I let him get away.”
Wait. He felt guilty? “You didn’t let him—”
“I did. And now he has your keys and your address. And you’re stuck outside in the freezing cold at midnight.”
A chill raced down Emma’s spine. Because in the midst of everything else, she hadn’t put those two facts together in quite that way. For just a moment, her headache fought back against the pain meds. “Do you think he’ll come back?”
“Fuck,” he bit out. “I didn’t mean to…probably not, okay? Guy was probably just a junkie hoping for some cash for his next fix.”
Emma wasn’t sure that made her feel much better. Because her purse was still going to be floating around out there…somewhere. And not just with her keys and license, but with all her credit cards, too. Canceling those was one more thing she needed to do once she was done with the locksmith. “You’re probably right,” she managed. And then, with more conviction, “None of which is your fault, obviously.”
“Look, lady—”
“Emma.”
“What?”
“My name is Emma. And I’m totally not old enough for you to call me lady.”
He huffed, and she could almost hear him roll his eyes.
She found herself biting back a smile. “You sigh a lot.”
“You talk a lot.”
That made her laugh. “I know. Hazard of my job, I guess.”
