“Why don’t I—”
“Get the f**k out? Good plan.”
The door slammed shut.
She blindly reached for the hose for the hand sprayer. Unable to see a damn thing, she leaned over too far, smacking her shoulder into the bottom of the tub. “Fuck!”
“That’s it, goddammit, hold still.” Kane moved in behind her, straddling her upper torso, squeezing his knees on either side of her ribcage. He reached for the hose and placed the nozzle on the back of her head. “Close your eyes and tilt your head down,” he said tersely.
If Ginger was surprised by how quickly she acquiesced, she was even more surprised by Kane’s thoroughness. His gentleness.
He rinsed her hair. Her face. Her eyes.
“I can take it from here,” she said curtly.
“Like hell. I’m gonna help you to your feet whether you like it or not.” He wrapped his arms around her midsection.
She sucked in a breath when the muscular backs of his forearms brushed the underswell of her br**sts. Her ni**les constricted. Her whole body quivered.
“Steady. I know you’re cold. Let’s get you upright first. Then we’ll see about getting you dried off and warmed up.” He lifted her with almost no effort. Instead of letting her go, he held her tightly against his body.
She whimpered.
“Am I hurtin’ you?”
“No. I’m just…mortally embarrassed.”
“Listen to me. I am here to help you. With everything. Including this kinda stuff. So all you need to do, Ginger, is let me help you. Can you do that?”
“No.”
He laughed. “Tough shit.”
She nearly smiled through her chattering teeth.
“No more of this ‘you don’t need my help’ attitude. From now on, I’m gonna stick to your goddamn side like glue, understand?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Good.” He released her. “Now brace your hand on the sink and I’ll dry you off.”
With brisk, but calm efficiency, Kane toweled off every section of her wet body. She had to admit that he didn’t let his gaze linger on her naked body parts. Until he had to help her get dressed. He muttered something about going straight to hell.
Kane slipped the straps of her favorite lime green bra up her arms and pulled the cups to cover her br**sts. After he snapped the front clasp of the separate sections together, his fingertips swept the deep “V”
of her cle**age, lingering on the upper curves.
Her ni**les hardened at his touch, despite the echo of her father’s warning about Kane’s deftness with female undergarments. He’s helped plenty of women out of their clothes.
He lifted a brow at her shirt choice. “A button-up, long-sleeved western shirt?”
“I thought it’d be easier to put on.”
“Not easier to snap with one hand. Let’s start with your bum arm.” Once he had the shirt snapped, he slipped the sling over her head. “Careful.”
Ginger fought the urge to tell him to hurry, because hello? She was naked from the waist down. The glint in Kane’s eye warned that if she complained, he’d take even longer dressing her.
When he dropped to his knees, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his dark head so close to her pu**y. If he moved his face, just a couple of inches, he could put his mouth right where she most wanted it.
Would he comment about her being a natural redhead?
But Kane didn’t say a word. He didn’t slowly, sensuously ease the soft cotton yoga pants up her legs.
One fast tug and the waistband hugged her hips.
Not only did Ginger feel ashamed of her less-than-perfect body, she was embarrassed by her conflicting emotions—on one hand wanting Kane to notice her, on the other hand wanting to cringe away from his scrutiny.
Kane stood and hung up the towels.
How much of a freak did it make her that she felt more vulnerable dressed than she had stark naked?
Keeping her head bowed, she whispered, “Thank you.”
Then Kane was right there, tipping her face up to meet his gaze. “Hey now, what’s with the waterworks? I just got you dried off.”
“I’m sorry I’m such a pain in the ass.”
He studied her. “Why do you have such a hard time askin’ for help?”
“Because I’ve never needed it before.”
“Well, you need it now.”
“Thanks for pointing that out.”
“I’m gonna be pointing it out over and over until it’s through that thick skull of yours, so suck it up.
Get used to takin’ my help, Ginger, because I’m just as goddamn stubborn as you are. And I ain’t gonna wait for you to ask me for it.”
Hayden knocked and rushed in without waiting for the obligatory “come in”, oblivious to the fact she and Kane had been within kissing distance.
“Mom? You okay?”
“Yeah, baby, I’m fine.”
Hayden squinted at her hair. “Except you look like a mad porcupine.”
Her hair snarled like a Brillo pad if she forgot to put conditioner in, which she had. Combing it without the benefit of conditioner? Near impossible, especially since she’d be forced to use her left hand.
The thought of hobbling around her house with her hair looking like an electrocuted porcupine made her want to cry.
“Hayden, buddy, why don’t you give your mama a minute?”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“She knows. Go on.”
If Ginger couldn’t even look at herself in the mirror she couldn’t imagine what Kane saw when he looked at her.
Silence, thick as steam, floated around them.
Kane curled his hands around her face. “You don’t look like a mad porcupine. Maybe just a rabid squirrel.”
She laughed and sobbed simultaneously.
His too-kind eyes searched hers. “Find me a brush and I’ll comb out your hair.”
“You’d do that?”
His hands fell to his sides. “Why? Don’t you trust me?” he said with an edge to his voice.
Way to insult the man when he’s gone above and beyond. Ginger backtracked. “It’s not that.”
“Then what? Because it doesn’t take a damn doctorate to untangle hair, Ginger.”
What did that have to do with anything? Kane wasn’t feeling intimidated by her…was he?
That was beyond ridiculous. The man was…a super hero—according to her son. And from what she’d seen so far? She’d have to agree.