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‘No, it’s okay...’ Cass’s protests were silenced by one slight incline of Jack’s head. She was going with him.
He led her to the bathroom in the church hall, accepting towels from one of the Monday Club ladies who bustled in out of nowhere and left just as energetically. Putting them down on to the chair by the washbasins, he dumped a plastic bag he’d been carrying on top and then walked over to the door, flipping the lock.
‘Boots.’ His grin was warm, and far too tender to resist. Cass hung on to the washbasin while he unlaced her boots, pulling them off.
‘What’s this?’ He’d tipped her face up to his, running his thumb across the sore spot in her hairline.
‘Just a scrape. Is it bleeding?’
‘Not all that much. I’ll clean it up in a minute.’ He searched in the plastic bag and produced a bottle of shampoo, which Cass recognised as her own, one of the toiletries that she must have left at Sue and Martin’s. She reached for the bottle and he pulled it away.
‘Let me do it.’
There was no desire in his face, no trace of wanting. Just the warmth of two comrades who finally had the opportunity to see to each other’s needs instead of those of everyone else.
This would be okay. And she so wanted it. Someone to take care of her after a long night and an even longer day. There would be no complications, no threat of what might happen tomorrow, because Jack wouldn’t be here tomorrow.
He pulled a chair over to the washbasin at the end of the row, which was equipped with a sprinkler tap. Testing the temperature of the water, he told her to close her eyes.
Cass felt herself start to relax. He was good at this, guiding the water away from her face, rubbing gently to get all of the mud out of her hair. Massaging the shampoo through, his firm touch sending tingles radiating across her scalp. His leg pressed against her side as he leaned over her.
Maybe there was just a bit of sensuality about this. Along with all the nurturing and the warmth—the things that she reckoned it was okay to take from Jack. Cass dismissed the thought. It was what it was and she was too tired, too much in need to question it.
Then the warm water running over her head and finally a rub with a towel. Cass opened her eyes, sitting up straight.
‘Better now?’
‘Much. Thank you.’ She rubbed at her hair and he handed her a comb. She winced as the teeth passed over the abraded skin at her temple.
‘Let’s have a look at that.’ He didn’t wait for her to either agree or disagree, just did it. Gentle fingers probed and then he reached for the plastic bag again. ‘I think you’ll live. I’ll put some antiseptic on it, though.’
The antiseptic stung for a moment but even that was refreshing. Jack had a lightness of touch that set her nerve endings quivering, but that would have to remain her little secret.
‘Do something for me?’ He raised one eyebrow and she smiled.
‘What do you want?’
A slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. Then he sat down opposite her and carefully removed a haphazardly applied piece of plaster f
rom his arm. Underneath, the skin was red raw, a fragment of wood protruding. Cass caught her breath. He must have ignored the injury, the splinter driving deeper into his skin as he’d worked, and it was going to hurt to get it out now.
‘Do you have a pair of tweezers?’
He leaned over, producing a pair from the bag, but when Cass reached for them he closed his hand over them, holding it against his chest. ‘Gently does it, eh? I know you lot.’
‘My lot?’ Cass grinned. ‘What’s that supposed to mean? I’ll have you know I’m medically trained.’ All firefighters were.
‘It’s supposed to mean that you don’t have to throw me over your shoulder and carry me out of here first. Then tip me in a heap on the ground and start pumping on my chest.’
‘Think I couldn’t? I have a technique, you know.’ The truth was that she could just about manage it. He’d have much less trouble lifting her.
He was shaking his head, laughing. ‘That’s exactly what I’m worried about.’
He handed her the tweezers and pushed the bottle of antiseptic towards her. Cass positioned his arm on the vanity top and bent over it, looking carefully. He made no sound but the muscles in his arm twitched when she laid her finger close to the wound.
‘You really should have a local anaesthetic for this.’
‘Nah. Better to just get it over with. I’ve only got the strong stuff in the medical bag.’
