Chapter Eight
Will had just about enough of Giggly McSorority Sister. Maybe on another day his ego would have been assuaged by a woman in her early twenties falling all over him, but under Tori’s all too watchful eye he just felt old.
He’d been married. He’d been divorced. He’d had a town love him then hate him, watched his family’s reputation and business and shaky foundation crumble before him. He’d built a business with his brother in the aftermath. He’d lived lifetimes, and this woman had lifetimes ahead of her instead of behind her.
Plus, no matter how perky her breasts she kept rubbing against him were, the fake clumsiness she was employing had about tripped him up twice, and he wasn’t really keen on the idea of falling down a mountain for a pair of tits.
Why on earth that thought process led him to glance up toward Tori and her tits was utterly beyond him. He knew better. But she was on top of the outcropping of rock they had to climb to get to the top of the falls making sure the older couples had made it up, and, judging from the look on her face, saying something snarky to pothead number one.
A tiny warrior queen, with the strength to fell a hundred men ten times over. She smiled down at the older woman and offered her a hand, everything about her in control and at ease.
What would it be like to have her real smile aimed at him again? Probably fatal. No matter how much life he’d lived in her absence, he was the same feckless fuck.
Something uncomfortable shifted in his chest, and if he thought too much about it, it might feel like denial. He might recall Tori saying he was too old to still think he was worthless. If he focused on that he might have to accept he had changed. He’d stepped up a few times and—
The little “whoops” and subsequent giggle were the only warning he had before a body all but crashed into his.
Since he was on an uneven portion of trail, he lost his footing. He scrambled for balance, reaching out to grab on to anything steady, but it was too late. He stumbled backward, unable to use his arms to break his fall. There were about three moments of impact. Shoulder, hip, and then his head.
He saw a flash of light, but then he was rolling a bit, and he at least had enough brainpower to use his legs and arms to stop his momentum. He stopped on a rocky, uneven patch of land a little ways off the path, and he rolled to his back, breathing hard and trying to move past the shock enough to figure out if he was seriously hurt.
He heard some shouting and screeching, but he was a little too concerned with his own well-being to worry about anyone else. Everything pulsed with pain and he gritted his teeth against it as he closed his eyes to shut out the bright, blinding sun above him.
When he forced himself to open his eyes and think about getting up, he didn’t see the sun, but the ocean.
“Will.”
He blinked, realizing it wasn’t the ocean but Tori’s eyes, wasn’t a breeze on his cheek but the ends of Tori’s braid. She was kneeling next to him, her head directly above his.
“I think I’m okay,” he managed. He was a little out of sorts, but maybe it was the shock or maybe it was her.
He needed to get up.
“Stay still,” Tori ordered, her hand firm on his shoulder. “Let’s make sure you are okay, not just think you are. Now where does it—”
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. It was just . . .” He couldn’t see the girl because Tori’s head was still over his, but the cause of his fall was all but blubbering apologies between little sobs and hiccups.
“I suggest you get her away from me,” Will muttered between clenched teeth, because he was a little too tempted to yell at her for her idiocy and he didn’t want to yell at a client no matter how much she deserved it.
Tori murmured a few things and people shuffled about. He didn’t pay attention to what was being said or who was where, he brought his hand up to the spot on his head that burned. His fingers came away bloody.
“Well, shit.” He tried to sit up again but Tori’s hand firmly pressed his shoulder into the rocky ground.
“I don’t think you should move.”
“There’s a rock in my ass. I have to move.”
He didn’t try to stand quite yet, he just scooted off the sharp rock that was digging into his butt.
Tori’s hand was still on his shoulder, strong and sturdy, like a beacon to center on while he got his wits about him.
Except getting his wits about him just meant he realized how much his shoulder and hip hurt.
“What hurts? Can you move everything?”
Will did a mental tally of his body, moving his fingers and arms and legs and toes, making sure everything worked the way it was supposed to. Things were sore and achy, but nothing felt broken or sprained. The only thing he was a little concerned about was the blood dripping from his head.
“Ash, give me your squeezy water bottle,” Tori ordered to someone in the group before her face was all up in his face again. She studied him intently. “Do you have a concussion?”
“No,” he muttered, irritation moving through him along with the pain.
“Follow my finger.”
He glared at her, not paying any attention to her damn finger. “No.”
“Don’t be a dickbag. Follow my finger.” She moved her finger from left to right in front of his eyes and he sighed and did what she asked. What was the point in fighting her? She would just poke at him until she won.
“Now this might sting or feel a little jolting, but try to sit still,” she said in an even, no-nonsense tone, as if he were anyone else. A stranger. A client. Why that pissed him off in this moment was anyone’s guess.
“That doesn’t sound ominous at all. Why don’t you—” He yelped as she sprayed some water onto his head. Ice cold water at that.
Then she started running her fingers through his hair and over his scalp and that was somehow worse than the cold and the sting. She was close and he could smell something that must have been soap or shampoo because Tori didn’t wear perfume, and as she maneuvered around him looking at different areas of his head, her body brushed against his.
It shouldn’t matter, but it did, and she came to a stop kind of in front of him, peering at the top of his head, her chest basically shoved into his face. A cruel cosmic joke when she had on a stretchy exercise pullover that left little to the imagination.
His imagination did not need any help in that department. “Could you maybe not do that?”
“I have to make sure you don’t need to be rushed to the hospital for stitches or something,” she returned.
“I don’t mean not look at my injury, I mean not shove your . . .” He cleared his throat. His mind stumbled through all of the words for breasts, but none of them seemed appropriate in this situation so he just sort of vaguely gestured. “You know, in my face.”
She blinked down at him and then scrambled off to the side. If his head wasn’t throbbing, he might’ve laughed at how quickly she scurried away. Like a scared animal. An oddly cheering thought.
“It looks like just a scrape,” she muttered. “I can’t find any sort of gash or cut, but it’s hard to tell with all your hair.”
“I think I’m fine.”
He let out a little yelp as she poured more water over his head. When he glared at her, she smirked.
“Just making sure you’re all cleaned up.”
“Let me up. I’m tired of people staring at me.”
She didn’t move out of his way, still holding the water bottle perilously close to his head. “You took quite a tumble.”
“Wasn’t my fault,” he returned, scooting a little to get some room to stand up where she wasn’t hovering over him.
“Oh, I know.”
Will glared up at her. “She fell on me.”
“Literally. Figuratively.” Tori cocked her head. “Are you sure you weren’t just distracted and lost your footing?”
He scowled. “I’m sure.”
Tori shook her head and got to her feet. She held out her hand to him. “Come on. Let’s get you up.”
“I don’t need your help to get up.”
“Take my hand, you dipshit.”
Grumbling and irritated and aching, Will curled his hand around hers and got to his feet. He didn’t feel dizzy or light-headed, although it took a few seconds to feel sturdy.
Tori’s hand slipped out of his, and it sent a little pang through him. It was nice to do something with her without that roiling old shit in his gut, but that was never going to be anything more than short-lived, was it? The shitty past existed. End of story.
He rolled his shoulders and twisted his torso back and forth. “I think I’m more bruised than broken.”
“I guess that hard head came in handy for something.”
“Ha. Ha.” He looked grimly up the hill. Everyone was lined up on the trail looking on, and even though it wasn’t his fault, taking the spill had been damn embarrassing.
“Let’s head back to Mile—”
“No,” Will said, taking a hesitant step and gratified to find his legs seemed fine. “We’re taking the clients up to the overlook. That’s what they paid for.”
Tori pursed her lips together and studied him. It almost looked like concern lurking in her blue-green ocean eyes, but he was probably imagining things. She probably got quite a kick out of seeing him take a header down a mountain.
“I think we should get you back and make sure that you’re okay,” Tori said carefully.
“I’ve taken a few falls in my day. I’m okay. Trust me. It’ll hurt like a bitch for a few days, but nothing’s broken or sprained and you said yourself you couldn’t find a cut that’d need stitches. No point in going back and lying around. Eventually the body heals.”
She cocked her head and looked at him strangely, but he was too tired and irritated to read the look.
“You can stay down here while I lead them up—”
“Like hell I’ll stay down here like some kind of pansy ass.”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head and then started tramping back up to the trail. He followed her, trying not to wince at every step. His legs were fine, but his hip ached.
But he knew from experience it would be better to move around now, no matter how painfully, rather than lie still and let everything get stiff.
Tori was instructing everyone on trail safety and making sure to have clear footing before taking the next step. The girl who caused him to fall started rushing over the minute he stepped on the trail, but a sharp look from Tori stopped her in her tracks.
Thank God, because he didn’t feel like being generous right now. No matter how apologetic the woman looked, he wasn’t certain he could smile and say it was no big deal.
One of the retired women handed him a little bottle of ibuprofen. “Would you like a few of these?” she asked kindly without sounding patronizing.
He managed to smile at her. “God bless you.” She smiled in return and let Will shake out a few pills before he handed the bottle back to her.
He tossed the pills back, grateful Tori was paying enough attention to hand him a bottle of water. Since she’d been leading the group, she’d been the one to shoulder the pack. He was probably lucky he hadn’t been wearing it or he could have taken an even nastier stumble.
“Why don’t you take the lead this time and I’ll take the rear,” Tori suggested as he handed the water bottle back to her.
He opened his mouth to argue with her, but she touched his arm.
Gently.
“Take the lead,” she insisted, a little too gravely. “I get that you’re a big strong man and just fine, but take the lead. Please.”
It was hard to believe the concern he thought he saw in her eyes was a product of his own imagination now. Because why would she care if he took the lead if she wasn’t at least a little worried about him?
If she was even a little worried about him, she didn’t hate him quite as much as she pretended to. Which was certainly something to consider.
* * *
Thankfully, the remainder of the hike was uneventful. The sorority girls who’d caused Will’s fall kept their distance and were much subdued. The older couples praised them both for the beautiful views and the wonderful experience, even despite the fall. The stoners asked her to party with them later, and Tori politely declined.
After the clients dispersed, she and Will walked into the office. Tori snuck a glance at Will as he eased himself into a big chair in the main office.
Skeet was sitting behind his desk and frowning at Will, so Tori turned to him. “Do you have ice packs around here?” She angled her chin toward Will. “Took a bit of a fall.”
Skeet nodded and disappeared back into the kitchenette area while Tori continued to study Will. He looked a little gray, but she supposed if anything was seriously wrong he wouldn’t have gotten this far.
Still, there was this uncomfortable rock in her gut. Something like worry. She hated that her heart could be so silly as to be concerned over Will’s welfare when he was clearly fine, but when had she ever had control over her heart?
“I still think you should see a doctor just to make sure,” she offered into the quiet of the room.
“Your concern is touching.”
It didn’t sound as sarcastic as she might’ve wanted it to sound. The last thing she wanted to do was touch Will. In any shape or form. Touching would be bad.
Skeet appeared from the kitchen with an ice pack. He handed it to Will wordlessly.
“He needs two more,” Tori said. “He hit his head, his hip, and his shoulder.”
Skeet gave Tori a little nod before disappearing, hopefully to find more ice packs.
Will looked over at her from beneath his lashes. She always thought it unfair that a guy had long dark eyelashes like that, when her pale ones were basically invisible unless she put mascara on, which always seemed like a waste of time.
“You were paying awfully close attention to my fall,” he said, something odd in his tone.
Like he could see through her a lot more than she wanted him to. So she shrugged as nonchalantly as she could manage. “I was the leader of the hike. I was supposed to be paying attention.” Maybe, maybe, she’d been paying a little too much attention to the woman flirting with Will so she had witnessed every landing point on his fall.
But that was neither here nor there.
“It wasn’t your job to be paying attention to me.” He winced as he put the ice pack on his head, which caused her to bite back her snotty retort.
She might be angry with him and irritated by him for a million different reasons, but that didn’t mean she liked seeing him physically hurt. The jerk.
Will let out a tired sigh and Tori felt like she should say something, but she didn’t know what. Watching him fall hadn’t exactly been fun for her. If she was being completely honest with herself and no one else, her heart had jumped to her throat when he’d toppled backward.
Skeet returned with the ice packs. Instead of handing the ice packs off to Will, Skeet crossed to her and held them out.
She stared at his outstretched hands somewhat horrified. “What do you want me to do with them?”
“Boy’s only got two hands, and I have to answer the phone.” With that, Skeet shoved them at her and walked over to his desk. To a phone that was most certainly not ringing. She glared at Skeet, then looked back at Will, who was smirking at her.
“Afraid to touch me, sweetheart?” he drawled.
She rolled her eyes so hard it nearly hurt. “The last woman who touched you knocked you down a mountain. You might want to be careful about engaging in females touching you.”
He gave a little laugh, which was a surprise because she didn’t think he was feeling too jovial about the whole ordeal.
“She said it was a dare.”
“To knock you down the mountain?” Tori returned, taking a hesitant step toward him, his large body sprawled in that chair, his eyes drooping half closed, looking tired and soft. Everything in her softened at that, no matter how she tried to harden it.
“A dare to flirt with me. I told her she was very bad at it.”
Tori’s mouth twitched. “Did you really tell her that?”
“No. I told her next time she wanted to flirt with a guy to try not knocking him off a mountain.”
“You know, it was only a few feet down a mountain. You’re being very overdramatic about it.”
His eyes met hers, and where she’d thought he’d looked tired and soft not more than a minute or so ago, the look was sharp. Assessing.
She feared it saw way too much. Feeling unaccountably nervous and weird, she stepped toward him again. It didn’t make any sense to be nervous when not that long ago she’d been shoving her fingers through his hair searching his scalp for a cut.
But there’d been a weird feeling then too, it was just that shock and fear had hidden it. She didn’t have those things anymore to hide behind. She just had . . .
“Here,” she said, clearing her throat when her voice came out scratchy. “Put that one on your hip. I’ll hold this one on your shoulder.”
His eyes had never left hers and her nerves intensified. She didn’t even know why or what this was. It was just . . . silence. Or something.
After a few humming moments of she didn’t know what, he took the outstretched ice pack and shifted in the chair to slide it against his hip.
Trying to stand as far away as possible and still be able to reach his shoulder, she plopped the other ice pack on his shoulder.
His hand closed over hers on top of the ice pack, and she sucked in a loud breath against her will.
Tonight, when she was lying in her bed berating herself for this moment, she would have a good reason for why she felt all shivery and affected. She’d find the best excuse for why she couldn’t breathe properly, or why her heart beat too hard, but for right now she couldn’t come up with excuses or reasons because his warm, calloused hand was on top of hers. She felt that warmth more than she felt the cold of the ice pack.
He curled his fingers around her hand and she all but squeaked, but he just shifted her hand and the ice pack to the side of his shoulder rather than the top.
“There,” he said, his voice too low and husky. “And since the chair is keeping the ice pack on my hip, I can probably hold this one myself.”
“Right.” So she should probably tug her hand away. Or something. “I can hold it if you need me to. I mean, if your other arm’s sore.” Was that her voice coming out sounding so breathless and far too close to the giggling women on the trail?
There was a beat of silence, heavy and meaningful, but she tried to ignore the meaningful part of it. The way he studied her. All the jittering feelings inside of her. If she ignored them . . .
But wasn’t that the problem? Ignoring didn’t work. She needed to find a way to face it. To acknowledge it and eradicate it. A surgeon couldn’t cut out a tumor if he didn’t know what and where the tumor was. He had to identify it first, map it out, have a plan and know what the hell he was dealing with.
She opened her mouth to say something—God knew what—something inevitably stupid, but the front door opened and in came laughter and other people.
Hayley, Sam, and someone Tori didn’t know filed into the room. Tori jerked away from Will, which was stupid because of course everyone noticed. If she’d just stood there like a normal person, no one would have questioned it.
Luckily, Hayley was immediately distracted, Tori assumed by the ice packs on Will’s head.
“Oh no, what happened?”
Hayley rushed over to inspect Will, but Sam stood where he was, impenetrable blue gaze still on Tori.
“He fell,” Tori said lamely, trying to break Sam’s all-too-assessing gaze and failing.
“Did he have help?” Sam asked, quirking a brow at Tori.
“Just a dope of a hiker knocking me down by accident,” Will offered. “But I’m fine.”
Tori wished she was.