Masters at Arms (Rescue Me Saga, #0.5)(11)
She scoffed. “From what Karla said, you fought off three guys. I just hope they look a lot worse than you do.”
“Yes, ma’am. Two of them do, anyway. The third ran.” He felt a need to assure her that Karla hadn’t been harmed or in danger. “I didn’t let them near your daughter. She was out of there before any punches flew.”
She stepped back to face him. “Adam, we can’t thank you enough. When we found Karla’s bed empty an hour or so ago—”
Adam heard the catch in her voice and looked up to see tears swimming in her eyes. His gut twisted. He could well imagine her fears.
“We panicked,” she finished on a whisper. “The police wouldn’t even look for her for twenty-four hours. It’s not much, but please know we’re forever in your debt.”
“Sorry, Mom. It took me a while to—”
Adam looked toward the entrance to the kitchen to find that Karla had come to a dead stop, her jaw hanging open. Her eyes homed in on his naked chest. Shit, he’d embarrassed her. He reached for his shirt.
“Come on, girl. Don’t just stand there. Get over here.” When Karla remained stock-still, Jenny barked, “Now!” Then, to Adam, she stilled his movement to put his shirt back on. “Don’t you dare! She’s seen her brother’s bare chest a million times.”
*
Yeah, but Ian’s chest didn’t look anything like Adam’s.
Karla crossed the room, holding the kit out to her mom, but not taking her eyes off Adam’s muscular pecs and biceps. His skin was evenly tanned, not a single hair anywhere on his chest. She had a whole new appreciation for the anatomy lessons she’d had in health class, because they allowed her a chance to label all of his beautiful parts. Standing so close, she felt the heat radiating from his body, even more noticeable than it had been at the bus station.
Or was it just that her face was overheating?
Her mother worked to open the latch of the new kit while Karla continued her observations. His pectoral muscles bulged, hard-looking nipples protruding from dark brown areolas. Karla just stared at his nips. No, not the scientific term, but that's what her friends called them when they ogled the juvenile boys in their gym class. None of those boys had nips that looked like stone, though. Nothing like Adam’s.
She itched to reach out and touch one to see if it was as hard as it looked, but her mother would have made her leave the room if she did that. She wouldn’t risk that happening, so she clenched her fists at her sides.
Her gaze went lower. His abdominals were…well…. Oh, my! Now she knew why they called them a six-pack. She’d probably be able to bounce a quarter off them if he were lying down. There was this valley between his abs she wanted to lick.
Oh, no, Kitty. Don’t think about licking him!
Too late. Her face grew even warmer. What would Adam be like as a lover? Gentle, tender, forceful? Not that she had any experience with lovers or sex. None of the boys her age attracted her, and she'd always been more interested in her music career than in dating. But she’d watched lots of love scenes in the movies and on TV. Adam truly had the most beautiful upper body she’d ever seen in her whole life—real or make believe.
“Open this and hand me one of the swabs.”
Her mother handed her a cellophane package with two Q-tips inside. With great reluctance, Karla tore her gaze away from Adam's chest, then, realizing how important this was, went to work with a new sense of purpose. If only her hands would quit shaking. She wanted to do this right. What if she didn’t and he got an infection and a fever and maybe even died, all because his cut lip wasn’t cleaned properly?
Without touching the cotton ends, she handed one swab to her mom and watched her dip it in a bottle of alcohol. She knew from experience that was going to hurt like a mother.
“This is going to sting,” Mom warned.
You’d better believe it. Her mom rubbed the wet cotton over his split lip, holding his chin to keep him steady. Karla wished she could touch him like that. He closed his eyes, but didn’t make a sound. Her stomach muscles clenched, as if she were experiencing the pain for him.
“There.” Her mom laid the Q-tip on the paper towel she’d placed on the table. “Now let’s get some antibiotic ointment on that lip.”
Karla saw the tinge of pink on the Q-tip. Adam’s blood. Tears sprang to her eyes. He’d been hurt because of her stupidity. She wished there was something more she could do to help him. She certainly couldn’t kiss his lip and make it better. Although the thought caused her stomach to flutter again, like a flock of the butterflies was trying to escape. She flushed in embarrassment.
What would her friends think when they heard about her adventures with an older man tonight? And a Marine. Oh, my! They would be so jealous, especially when she told them he looked like Mark Harmon. Only Adam acted much more mature and noble than the Dr. McNeil character did.
Her mom brushed her thumb across the red marks on Adam's shoulder. “Not much I can do for the bruising, but I don’t think there’s a hematoma.”
Karla’s attention went to the long, thin mark where he'd been jabbed by something with evenly spaced points. Then she remembered that one of the guys he had fought with had been wearing brass knuckles. Her knees buckled at the thought of them tearing into Adam's shoulder.
“Whoa, hon!” Adam reached out and grabbed her elbows to hold her steady. “Not too fond of the sight of blood?”