Jacked (Trent Brothers #1)(59)

Her eyes lit up and, for a moment, I wondered if that was because of me. I felt something I thought was dead stir inside me. She smiled and then tilted her head my way. “All finished?”

“Yeah, you’re all set.”

Those lips that looked like pink candy curled up again. “Thank you,” she sighed out, gazing at me as if I were some sort of hero.

I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit that felt great, too.

In that moment I became acutely aware that there was a huge difference between a woman hanging on me making me feel wanted and one that was glowing with pure appreciation by a simple act of kindness, making me feel needed.

This wasn’t my first rodeo and I’d had plenty of experience knowing that womanly appreciation eventually turned into expectations, but it was always a red flag when a woman started right off with entitled demands. The woman standing in front of me didn’t expect anything. Hell, she had fought my intentions to put her new license plate on up until the moment I got my toolbox out of my truck.

And damn if that didn’t make me more interested in her.

I noticed her kitchen sink had a slow drip, and my pushing down and jiggling the handle didn’t stop it. The outdoor light above her garage door was burned out, too—those were just a few of the things a man should be taking care of for her. I added them to my mental list of future good excuses, because I sure as hell wanted to see her again.





I WATCHED AS Adam glanced at his bandaged hand, flexing his fingers and picking at the wrapping.

“You got it dirty, didn’t you?”

He nodded sheepishly, giving me a glimpse of how adorable he must have been as a mischievous child. “Tried not to, but I had to fight with one of the bolts.”

“Come on,” I motioned toward his hand, “let’s go take a look at my handiwork.”

Adam followed me down the hallway and up the steps, where I ushered him into my bathroom. “We going to play doctor?”

I grinned. “Yes, but not the X-rated version.”

“Bummer,” he grumbled under his breath.

I pointed to the closed toilet. “Okay, Detective Trent, have a seat.”

Adam rested his elbow on the sink counter, offering his hand for inspection. I sifted through my medical kit, finding my thermometer. I saw his apprehensive, questioning look while I wiped it with an alcohol swab.

“Open.”

“I thought we were just checking stitches, Doc.”

“We are. I also want to check your temperature too, so open up.”

He frowned at me. “Fine, but I’m not bending over for this.”

What a big baby. “That’s a shame.” I smiled. “A low grade fever usually accompanies infection, so I’m checking it to make sure you’re okay with a thorough exam. Now open.”

I snapped on a pair of gloves, knowing he didn’t have any allergies to latex.

The thermometer tipped up in his pinched lips and one gorgeous brown eye scrunched, leaving no doubt as to what he was thinking.

“You, officer, have a dirty mind.”

“You’re the one putting rubber gloves on, Doc.”

I pushed the edge of the thermometer back into his mouth. “Hush.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He snickered.

I removed the damp, dirty gauze from his hand, hoping I wouldn’t see signs of infection.

Ah, relief. “Sutures still look good.” I cleaned them and put some antibiotic cream on a sterile cotton swab, noting with shear exultation how his large hand dwarfed mine.

A man’s hand… Proximal phalanges that articulate with the metacarpals… how would it feel squeezing my breast? Distal phalanges pinching, rolling my nipples between them, gliding down my body, touching me where I ache. Dipping and playing in the wetness that’s gathering from just these thoughts?

“Still looks swollen, though,” Adam mumbled, cutting right through my internal fantasies. Just as men get erections, I felt swollen myself.

I pulled the thermometer out of his mouth when the digital sensor beeped. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have sworn he was eying me over with the same lascivious thoughts.

“What’s the prognosis, Doc?”

Even the rumble of his deep voice set my body on high alert. “Your temp is normal. You’re going to live.”

I wished I could know what he was thinking. The way he regarded me with that speculative stare told me he was mulling a lot of things over in his mind as well, but what kind of things was still a mystery. Would he stick around long enough to make this a never-ending treasure hunt or would it be the cliff notes version of my sad, pathetic love life?

I wrapped the first pass of gauze around his hand, speculating that a man like him probably wasn’t ready to settle down. The mischievous look in his eyes said it all. This cop was probably looking for a hit and run and I was far from bulletproof.

Though he’d been a complete gentleman so far, and had taken me out twice, so maybe… Wait… Did an omelet at a diner constitute an official date? Didn’t matter; I wanted him and I was pretty sure he knew it. I was fumbling just trying to wrap the bandage on him.

Even if that other cop was just trying to be an * at the diner, there must have been some truth to his accusations of Adam being a player.

Sharp jaw, killer eyes and smile, biceps that screamed “you should see the rest of my body if you think this looks impressive” with that perfectly cropped bed-head hair; yeah, all signs pointed to trouble followed by that soul-squashing heartbreak.