Beyond the Breaking Point - Lori Sjoberg Page 0,59
inflammation’s so bad. You’ve got at least a half dozen splinters in there.”
With her free hand, she reached for her bag and retrieved a pair of tweezers.
“I don’t need you playing Dr. Pain-in-the-Ass. It’ll be fine if you just—Jesus!” Wade yanked his hand away when the tweezers poked a sensitive spot. “What are you trying to do, pick the flesh off my bones?”
“Stop being such a baby. If you’d told me about these yesterday, I could have taken care of them then. Now you’ll be lucky if they don’t get infected.”
She was right. It made him even more irritable. Looking back, he shouldn’t have punched that tree, but he’d needed an outlet for his anger and it seemed like a better idea than picking a fight with one of the guys.
Though he wanted to tell her to go away, to insist the splinters would come out on their own, he recognized the futility in resisting her efforts. She was one of the most stubborn people he’d ever met, and that said a lot, considering his family. Resigned to his fate, he let out a low, gruff sound and kept his big mouth shut when she gripped his hand again.
Her touch was light, but it still managed to send little shock waves up his arm. She pinched the end of a splinter between the tweezer’s arms and slowly drew it out. Four more to go, and then he wouldn’t have to ignore the growing awareness that came with her being so close to him.
“During my time as a doctor,” she said as she set her sights on another splinter, “I’ve noticed an inverse relationship between testosterone levels and a man’s willingness to seek medical attention for an injury.” She glanced up, one eyebrow arched. “Thank you for confirming my hypothesis.”
Refusing to take the bait, Wade gave her a blank look. “Glad to be of service.”
The corners of her mouth twitched, and he could tell she was fighting a smile. Another twitch, an unladylike snort, and the smile finally won out, lighting her entire face. The force of it caught him completely by surprise, breaking through his grief and anger, and warming the cold places inside him.
He did his best to ignore the sensation. “Hurry up, will you? I’m hungry.”
Her gaze held his for a few long seconds before she turned back to his hands. With practiced efficiency, she removed the remaining splinters and dabbed ointment onto his knuckles.
“No bandage,” he said when she reached for the gauze.
“You’ll get dirt in the wounds.”
“Then I suppose you’ll have to clean them again.” He flexed his fingers, and they didn’t feel nearly as achy as before. He tried—and failed—to muster a smile, so he settled for a simple, “Thank you.”
Her smile wasn’t quite as brilliant as before, but it had the same effect on him. “You’re welcome.”
“I never asked how you were doing yesterday. After what happened with Hector. Sorry about that.” He used to be adept at dealing with people and knowing the right things to say, but apparently that was one of those use-it-or-lose-it skills.
“No worries.” She slipped the tweezers into her bag. “You had a lot on your mind.”
Wade’s eyes met hers again, and suddenly the tent felt too small, too intimate. Restless energy charged the air. He remembered how incredible her lips had tasted. He wanted to taste them again. But his cynical side reared its ugly head and insisted that type of involvement could only end two ways: either she betrayed him like Hector did, or she ended up dead like Carmen.
The thought doused his libido faster than a bucket of ice-cold water. He unzipped the tent the rest of the way. “We better get some breakfast before it’s all gone.”
“Whose turn is it to cook this morning?”
“Navarre, so there’s a chance it might be edible.”
She was fighting a smile again. “I thought that thing your brother made with the eggs yesterday wasn’t bad.”
“You’re a terrible liar, Bones.” To be fair, Wade wasn’t a fan of powdered eggs, which meant his opinion was skewed toward the negative to begin with, but that shit Austin cooked was downright disgusting. Just thinking about it put the foul taste back in his mouth. Still, he’d eaten it all without a complaint, because he didn’t want to hurt his brother’s feelings.
The guys sat in a circle about ten feet away, shoveling food into their mouths. At their approach, Austin and Jackson scooted in opposite directions to give them space to sit. Wade grabbed