Page 86

He walks forward and works mechanically as he unzips my running jacket. A knuckle drags down my waist, and I shiver. I’m hyper-aware of everything from the calluses on his hands to the heat radiating off his bare chest. I expect a rough scrape from his throat, maybe a soft groan, but he doesn’t utter a word. In fact, he’s barely breathing.

He tries to lift my T-shirt over my head, but then I let out a sharp gasp of pain.

He frowns.

“That motion doesn’t really work with my current shoulder situation,” I explain.

He thinks for a second, then takes out a pocketknife from his jeans and says, “Hold still.”

And then he slices my entire shirt right down the middle.

“Better?” he says, voice low.

My nipples stiffen. Partly from the cool air, and partly from the way his eyes trace over me like he’s checking for more injuries.

I swallow. “Uh-uh.” I expected jokes, maybe a wink, not this detached professionalism. I’m the one having exceptionally unprofessional thoughts, remembering what it felt like to have his hands on my body. Those rough calluses scraping my skin.

Lawton doesn’t say anything else, but he continues to help me undress. His shoulders grow more rigid with every layer of fabric that comes off, until I’m stripped down to nothing. Once I’m completely naked, he swallows, glancing away.

“Look at that,” I say, more breathless than I want to be. “You do have it in you to be a gentleman.”

He turns back, and his pupils have taken over his brown irises. “If you knew what I was thinking, you wouldn’t be calling me that.”

Heat ignites between my thighs. “What are you thinking about?”

“You,” he murmurs, eyes slinking over my body. “And every ungentlemanly thing I want to do to you.”

A hot ache ripples through me, and I think of his hands, circling, sliding deeper. I glance down at the bulge in his jeans. That somehow makes me feel better. Less exposed.

He strips down to his black briefs and steps into the shower, tilting his head under the spray so it soaks his dark hair. The water streams down his shoulders, washing over every ridge of muscle until he no longer smells like bleach.

Once he’s clean, he holds out a hand to me. “Come here.”

The words are layered with something I’ve never heard in his voice. I step into the shower. Lawton’s hands are firm but careful as he helps me rinse off. His grip tightens ever so slightly when he reaches my waist, and I suck in a breath when the tips of his fingers graze my ribs.

“Turn around,” he rasps.

“Why?”

“Your hair,” he says simply.

My heart thunders, but I let him tilt my head back under the spray. His fingers work through my hair, lathering the shampoo in slow circles, and I lean into it. I can feel him hard against me, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. Once he finishes, he moves to wash the rest of my body. The heat of the water soothes my aching muscles as it washes away the grime.

“Who do you think has more scars? You or me?” he says, stroking a finger down a raised line on my forearm.

“Hopefully you,” I say, rubbing the puckered red mark like I can wash it away. “Otherwise, my microneedling treatments aren’t working to get rid of them.”

He traces a raised line on the back of my shoulder. “Why do you want them gone?”

“Because all I see when I look at these is a time I couldn’t control the situation and failed.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Failures end up dead, but you made it out with scars. I’d call that a win.”

There’s an unfamiliar pressure in my throat that makes it hard to speak. I’ve never been great with serious life moments, so I stick with saying nothing. He seems to understand, so Lawton doesn’t press me for details, which I appreciate. He finishes washing my body, and by the time we’re done, I’m exhausted.

He doesn’t say much as he helps me into my favorite silk pajama set, and I wonder if he knows that’s my favorite. We slide into bed, and he tugs the blanket up over us, careful not to hurt my injured shoulder. He doesn’t say anything, so I don’t either. We lie there, body to body, drifting on the edge of sleep, until his pinky slowly curls around mine.

It’s a small gesture, but it takes up a lot of space in my heart.