Just Us Box Set

Can’t Buy His Love-2

I lay there for a minute, eyes tightly closed as I held the squirming body of the child against my chest. All I could think right then was, “he’s okay, he’s okay.” I heard the murmur of voices around me, and I felt someone next to me gently remove the boy from my arms. The child was crying now, and I felt like shedding tears myself.

“Dude, I am so sorry,” said a male voice, deep and sultry from nearby. “I didn’t mean to hit you. It was so sudden, and I…damn it, I almost killed two people!”

I assumed it was the driver speaking since I couldn’t yet bring myself to open my eyes. “s**t happens, man, though you were going a little fast, there.” I replied. “It was an accident. I’ll live and the kid is fine. Don’t sweat it.”

“Still, it’s…I’m a horrible person! God, how stupid can a guy be?” The man sounded like he was about to lose it.

Ah geez. “Look, stop by the gym one day and I’ll figure out how you can make it up to me, if that’ll make you feel better.”

His voice trembled slightly when he said, “Okay.”

“Wheeler,” another voice whispered in my ear. “Are you all right?”

Of course I’m not all right, my snarky inner voice said. I opened my eyes this time and looked into the lovely brown peepers of Gregory Wang. “Everything hurts,” I replied, “but I’m pretty sure nothing’s broken. I’ll just be really sore for a few days.”

I sat up slowly with Gregory’s help, and the crowd gave us a little more room. The cops had also turned up, and were taking charge of traffic. Gregory’s touch on my body made me want to pretend to be hurt worse than I was—would a limp be too much?—but that would be over the top. Right? “Is the kid okay?” I asked, looking around to see if I could spot him.

“Greta has him,” Gregory replied. “He’s fine and unharmed, thanks to you.” His earnest gaze and gratitude made my heart beat faster. I wanted to stretch out this moment in time, in spite of the circumstances. It was the first time he’d ever been this…solicitous about my welfare. This was our longest conversation to date.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“What about the driver of the truck?” I held out a hand and Gregory helped me up.

“Woody? He’s pretty shaken up. I’d be mad, but he’s really sorry and, given his past…If you want to press charges, though, that’s up to you.”

I’d thought about it for a fleeting second but decided to be a nice guy. “It will be fine. I’ll find a way for him to make it up to me. What’s this about his past?”

“Car accident when he was three. He was in the vehicle with his parents and watched them bleed to death. Woody didn’t say a word for seven years. I guess we all treat him like glass. It probably wears on him.”

“That’s messed up.” No wonder he was freaked out. “Walk me back to the gym?” I asked, making sure to look as pitiful as possible. What? I was hurting. Make the most of a moment, my papá always said.

“Sure,” he replied, strangely eager to be of assistance. I could get used to his hovering. Gregory turned and instructed his staff to take the kids back to the center, and the rest of the crowd melted away. The truck that hit me was now parked in front of the Sherriff’s office.

Leaning heavily on the man, I walked to the gym and he helped me sit behind the front desk. While he hovered, members who’d witnessed what happened came up to me to see if they could help.

“Did you hurt anything?” one person asked.

“Don’t be stupid. Of course he did,” another retorted. “I bet he broke his ribs.” So bloodthirsty, these people.

“Did you get his license plate number?” was another comment.

“Any bruises? Can I see?”

Through all the murmurs and suggestions, Gregory’s made the most sense. “Go home, soak your bones, take some Extra Strength Tylenol and get some rest.” Thankfully, I had some in my bathroom above the sink.

I looked at the patrons around me. “Mind if I close early?” I asked, and that was fine with them.

Five minutes later, I moved stiffly to my car, accompanied by my human walking stick, Gregory, who helped me into the front seat. “You sure I can’t drive you home?” His worry for me eased my mind.

“I’ll be fine, but thank you. Maybe you can have lunch with me sometime soon as a ‘thank you’?” I grinned, never one to turn down an opportunity to flirt, no matter what.

Gregory gave me a ghost of a smile. “I should say ‘no,’ but after what you did today, it’s the least I can do. Lunch on Thursday at the daycare center. Noon. Be prepared to have fruit cups, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and juice.”

I would have laughed out loud had I not been worried I would ache even more. “Sounds like a cuisine to the stars.” I groaned as I started the engine. “See you then,” I said before driving off.

* * * *

Ouch. I stared at my body in the mirror. There were bruises on my torso and a few scratches on my legs and arms. And I had to choose today to wear my brand new short-sleeved baby blue Polo shirt. It was road kill now, as were my Nordstrom shorts.

My mother was originally from Honduras and had gifted me with her thick black hair and darker skin tone. The green eyes came from my dad. If either of them were here right now, they’d fuss me to death.

Sighing, I filled the hot tub, turned on the jets, and soaked my body for a long time as I sipped mineral water in between taking Tylenol. Right before the incident, I’d had a sizeable lunch, which was feeling a little unsettled at the moment. I hoped it would pass. Later that afternoon, as I lay on my couch in the living room watching bad TV, there was a knock on my door. Groaning with each movement, I got up to see who it was.

My friend Tory walked past me and into my house the minute the door was open. “Wheeler, what the hell?” he asked, looking me over from head to toe.

“It’s not that bad. I’ll be sore for a while, but nothing’s broken.” I made my way slowly back to the couch and lay down again.

Tory muted the TV and sat in a nearby chair. “You should go the emergency room and get checked out to be sure you didn’t, maybe, bruise your kidneys or something.”

I shook my head. “I’m sure it’s not that serious. I’ve been hurt enough playing sports to know what a serious injury feels like. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s all over town, you know. Some of the guests at the motel were even talking about it, and Maury”—Maury Landrum was Tory’s boyfriend—“called me from the bookstore. You’re a hero, buddy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Not even. Although it got me a lunch date with Gregory and his little munchkins on Thursday.”

Tory was astonished. “Really? You save a kid, get hit by a car and you land a date with your obsession?”

“Who knew that’s what it would take, huh?” I grumbled as I turned onto my back. “It’s a step in the right direction.”

“Only you would be able to turn something like this into a potential adult sleepover.”

“Ha.” I briefly closed my eyes. “I’m relieved he’s finally giving me the time of day. I plan to make the most of it.”

Tory stood and brushed hair off my forehead. “I’m sure you will, Casanova. Need me to make something for dinner later?”

“Nah. I’ll be fine. Just need rest right now. Thanks, love.”

He smiled. “Anytime, small-town hero.”

I glared at him. “Stop that.”

“Don’t be surprised if you get visits from that kid’s parents or free food for a while.”

I shuddered.

“Gift baskets, flowers, balloons,” he continued with an evil grin, enjoying my discomfort.

“You’d better be wrong.”

He tapped me lightly on the shoulder. “You love being adored, don’t pretend.”

“Depends on who’s doing the adoration.”

Tory walked to the door. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.” Even as he closed the door behind him, I fell asleep.