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When I shook my head, she wrapped her hands around my arm with a tug. Apparently, this was non-negotiable. So I sat, if only to humor her. And I fought the temptation to pull her into my lap. At this level, I was shorter than Alexandra was and I didn’t mind gazing up at her. She turned away, retrieving a first aid kit from a shelf, along with a bottle of water and a washcloth.
“Let me see your hand,” Alexandra said.
I’d busted up more faces and broken bones than I could count. I didn’t need Alexandra to clean me up. Stephen was the one who barely managed to get out of this altercation alive. He was the one who needed to see a doctor. The split skin on my knuckles was nothing to worry about.
But Alexandra was waiting, her eyebrows raised. And she wasn’t fawning all over Stephen. She was looking after me.
I held up my hand for her to inspect. Alexandra took it, her touch warm and gentle. As she shifted closer, I caught the scent of her tropical scented soap. It made me want to bury my fingers in her hair and tilted her head to the side, sucking a bruise into her neck as I breathed in that delicious smell.
Instead, I had to settle for watching her. Using a dampened washcloth, Alexandra wiped away the blood from my knuckles, then swabbed my hand with alcohol. All the while, she kept her gaze downcast, her lashes shadowing her cheek as she followed her movements. But she seemed to be studiously avoiding my gaze.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Alexandra said at last, her voice quiet.
There was no heat to her voice. Was she saying it as a formality? Because from where I was sitting, she didn’t mean a word of it.
“I would do it again,” I replied. “The prick deserved all of that and more if you ask me.”
Finally, Alexandra raised her gaze and looked at me. Her gray eyes were shadowed with concern. Then her pupils dilated, blown wide and dark with desire.
I clenched my other hand for a moment, deliberating. Clearly, Stephen had treated her like shit. I had to be careful with her. If she felt rushed or trapped or pushed too hard, she could bolt and I would lose any chance of ever getting close to her like this again.
Slowly, so I didn’t spook her, I reached up and brushed my thumb over Alexandra’s lower lip.
“And you deserve better than that,” I added.
Alexandra’s lips parted and her breath hitched. She curled her fingers around my wrist, leaning into my touch. The obvious hunger written all over her perfect face made my cock stiffen in my jeans. If I thought she would let me, I would take her right here. Yank off her jeans. Pull her into my lap and have her ride me until we were both exhausted.
Then Alexandra shook her head. She pushed my hand away and started to bandage my knuckles.
“I got myself into that mess,” she said. “I didn’t love him. I just thought I could use him to get me somewhere else. Anywhere but here.”
Her words sent a spike of anger through me, followed by a cold, rush of grief that quickly doused the hard-on I’d had a second ago.
“Anywhere but here,” I said, and there was no denying the cynicism in my voice. “That’s pretty definitive.”
It meant she didn’t think much of people who lived in Merry Field, California. People who built their whole lives here and fought to maintain the peace. People like me.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Alexandra whispered.
“Like what?” I replied.
“You’re disappointed. You think less of me because I wanted to get the hell out of this goddamn place.”
Judging from the softness of her voice, she’d gotten some heat for her decision before. Merry Field was a small town and loyalty ran bone-deep. Talk about leaving was seen as a betrayal.
“I don’t think less of you,” I countered. “But I don’t share the same sentiments. Merry Field is my home.”
Alexandra sighed and wadded up the last of the gauze, stuffing it into the first aid kit again.
“Yeah, well, Stephen took me half way around the world and he was still a controlling, abusive piece of shit. I can lay the blame on Merry Field all I want, especially as I stand here patching up the president of a motorcycle gang after he nearly beat my ex-fiancé to death. But it doesn’t matter. There’s violence everywhere.”
This time, I couldn’t stop myself from curving my hands around Alexandra’s waist. This woman was so brave and so scared all at once. She tried to hide it, tried to keep her head down and find a way to avoid the spilled blood flying around her. But she was in the middle of it, whether she liked it or not. And that wasn’t going to end anytime soon.
“He’s still alive, you know,” I said.
I searched her face for any sign that she understood what I was getting at. But Alexandra just nodded.
“If you had killed him, you’d be on your way to jail right now, Brewer.”
