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“How long ago did you injure it?”
“Maybe ten, fifteen minutes.”
I take a step closer to them. “What tractor did you cut it on?”
Jake glances over at me. “The old run-down piece of junk over in that field bordering Bernie and Estelle’s place. Which now, I guess, is all our property.”
I wrinkle my nose at his mud-splattered clothes. “How did you get all dirty?”
“Oh, you know, I decided to stop on the way home for a relaxing mud bath.”
I snort out a laugh and then give him my best I’m-your-big-sister-don’t-prevaricate-with-me tone. “Jacob.”
He lifts his free hand. “I fell off the tractor, cut my hand, and fell in a puddle. You really think I want to give you a play-by-play of my most graceful moment?”
I sigh.
He turns his attention back to Luke. “Will it need stitches?”
“It’s stopped bleeding, so probably not. I’ll irrigate it a little before I patch you up, make sure there are no lingering bacteria.”
“Why were you out at the tractor?” I ask Jake.
Jake winces as Luke sets his hand over the sink and uses a bottle of saline to rinse it out. “Piper called the other day, and I told her I would get more pieces off it for something she’s working on.”
Luke chats easily with Jake, discussing Piper and her upcoming art show.
Now that I know Jake isn’t in any real mortal danger, some of the tension in my body releases.
Luke patches him up, his movements confident and capable, and my thoughts slip back to the drive here, heat flushing through me when I recall my little speech about keeping things professional.
I had to saysomething. He was mere inches from me for three full hours, just lounging there like some kind of golden lion, all relaxed and self-assured, asking me questions and gazing at me like he actually cared about the answers.
It uncoiled something inside me, a dark, nebulous current of wonder and longing. It was very . . . alarming.
Almost as alarming as receiving a text from Blake, a message that was a timely reminder of all the very good reasons I shouldn’t be having personal conversations with my very attractive client. There is too much on the line. I have too much to lose.
Blake hasn’t reached out to me at all since everything ended.
As much as I dread eventually reading his message, a small part of me is burning with curiosity. Why now? What does he want?
I tune back in to Luke and Jake’s conversation, Luke telling him to keep the bandages on for a few hours and clean and apply ointment before he goes to sleep.
Jake winces down at his muck-splattered shirt. “I really need to shower.”
“Try not to get water into it. Tape a bag around it or something.”
“Got it. Thanks, man.”
“No problem at all.”
Jake rubs the back of his head with his good hand. “You want food? There’s sandwich stuff in the fridge, and we also stocked food in the cabin if you’d rather head that way to get settled.”
“That’s a good idea.” I look over at Luke for confirmation. “That way we can get to work after lunch and get a few hours in.”
Some emotion resembling horror flickers across his face, gone so fast I must have imagined it. “That sounds great.”
“You’ll be over where cabin twelve used to be, down at the end of the line.” He points to a side entrance. “Keys are there, the one with the Garfield keychain. Oh, and take one of the golf carts, too. They’re all parked by the storage shed. That way Luke can get around the property without having to walk for miles.”
