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“Did I ever tell you about my high tolerance for pain?” I countered, a smile on my face.
I’d mostly been teasing Forrest to lighten my own mood, but he was intrigued.
Intrigued and a little concerned, if I had to guess.
“Are you injuring yourself frequently?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Not really. But when you’re open to trying things like I am, I think you need to be prepared for some level of injury.” I had to stop myself from telling him how some of the worst pain I’d experienced had nothing to do with a physical wound.
“Dare I ask what you were doing when you experienced your worst injury?” he pressed cautiously.
Fortunately, Forrest’s mind was focused on the physical ailments I’d suffered, so it took me almost no time to reveal the truth, knowing he’d probably be shocked. “I was taking cooking classes.”
“What?”
Yep, just as I suspected. He hadn’t been expecting that response.
Keeping my foot where it was, I lifted my back away from the arm of the couch and held my hand out to him. “See that scar right there?” I asked, pointing to the skin between my thumb and index finger.
Forrest’s fingers left my foot and reached for my hand. Holding it in his palm, he replied, “Yeah. What’s that from?”
“I guess I hadn’t really been listening when they talked about cutting away from you,” I shared. “Or, I guess, they probably insisted on placing the food on the cutting board. I decided to be a bit of a rebel, and I sliced through the potato I’d been cutting as well as my hand. It required nine stitches.”
With the tenderest touch I’d ever felt in my life, Forrest’s thumb moved along the line of the scar while his eyes inspected the damage. “I bet that hurt.”
If only he knew…
“It was more of an annoyance than anything else. Do you know how much you move your thumb in a single day?” He lifted his eyes to mine, something warm and sweet and lovely swirling in their depths. Unable to handle the intense scrutiny, I bit my lip, lifted my shoulders to my ears, and added, “On the bright side, I did learn how to cook.”
That did it.
Forrest burst out laughing, the tension from moments before dissipating.
I let out a sigh of relief and smiled as I watched him laugh.
When he finally settled himself down, he brought his shining eyes to mine. “Well, considering you’ve got this foot injury now and can’t do any standing to cook, I think I should order us some lunch. Then you can tell me all about these cooking classes and what you learned to make.”
“If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll heal up enough to make you a meal before this trip is over.”
Something darkened in his gaze. “Nothing would make me happier.”
I licked my lips and swallowed hard.
I was in a boatload of trouble. Ever the adventure-seeker, it wasn’t a surprise I didn’t mind.
FIVE
Daisy
“Don’t put it inside you, and don’t move your hips. Just keep it there, between your legs, and feel.”
I was desperate. I needed to move my hips.
But with the way Forrest was looking at me—his eyes focused right between my legs—I couldn’t seem to do anything but honor his request.
“Please,” I begged.
“What do you want, Daisy?”
