The Reality of Everything - Rebecca Yarros Page 0,7
she was streaked with bruises and scrapes from rib to hip to thighs. Only her waist and lower legs had escaped unscathed. “Ready?”
“Reckon now is as good a time as any,” she called back.
Without ceremony, I gripped her waist and lifted her.
“Oompf.” The sound escaped as her ribs slid free of the landing barrier.
“Better?” I settled her onto my left shoulder, careful to keep my forearm locked over the top of her thighs to avoid brushing her abused sides.
“A little,” she answered. “I can get a full breath now. Thank you.”
Seeing the new gap between her waist and the planks, I reached with my right hand and tugged gently on the fabric of her sundress, pulling it down in sections to give her as much modesty as I could offer.
“Thank you,” she repeated, softer this time.
“Take a second to catch your breath, and then we’ll lift you the rest of the way.” My head turned at the sound of tires on the gravel driveway. A small sedan parked between the enormous truck and the moving pod, then two women got out. One pale, holding a large pizza box, and the other one with a tawny complexion and a bottle of what looked to be tequila, both wide-eyed and slack-jawed.
“Oh. My. God.”
“Morgan!”
They raced toward the steps.
“Whoa, hold up!” I called out through the slats in the stairs, sending them to a skidding halt. “I don’t know how much weight that landing can take.”
Two heads popped around the base of the staircase, and I gave them a nod. “Hi there.”
“Mr. Carolina?” the petite one asked, her jaw dropping.
Mr. What?
“Uh. Not the last time I checked. Then again, I don’t really run in the pageant circuits,” I answered. The tequila-toting one came over to see my hands locked firmly on the tops of Morgan’s thighs—one over and one under her dress. “I’d shake your hand, but as you can see, mine are a little full at the moment.”
“Well, then,” she said without a trace of southern accent. “Morgan, are you hurt?”
“A little banged up, but nothing to fret over,” Morgan answered, shifting a little on my shoulder. She weighed next to nothing. “So, that’s Finley, and Jackson here is my next-door neighbor. How’s that for luck?”
“Jax,” I offered.
Fin waved, and Morgan’s friend returned the gesture before looking back at me.
“Well, Jax, how awkward—I mean awesome—to meet you. I’m Sam, and that’s my sister-in-law, Mia. And the girl you have perched on your shoulder is one of my best friends, so what can I do to help?”
“Nice to meet you, too,” I told the ladies. “Giving Morgan a hand up would be great. The rest of the stairs look sound, but the landing’s unstable. If you could go up the back steps and come down these to that last stair before the landing, that would be awesome. See if you can get your hands under her arms to help guide her onto the stairs as I lift her. Don’t let her put weight on the landing, if you can help it.”
“Done. Mia!” she called to the other girl, and they were gone in a blur.
“You doing okay up there, Morgan?” I asked. What kind of perfume was she wearing? Sure as hell smelled divine. Vanilla and strawberries?
“I should be asking you that, seeing as I’m currently sitting on you.”
I almost laughed. “Don’t you worry about me. I’m doing just fine.” I sent a wink in Finley’s direction, who giggled behind her hand.
“You’re not going to be too tired to lift me out?” Morgan asked, worry saturating her voice and increasing the number of syllables in that last word. Holy shit, the woman could read the phone book with that accent, and I’d be hooked.
“Trust me, I could hold you all day. I’m not going to let you fall.”
I felt a gentle give in her posture. Good, she’d relaxed a little.
“So, you bought the house, huh?” I asked, trying to fill the silence until the girls could get around to Morgan.
“Yeah. Maybe I should have looked at it first.” Her voice dropped, nearly unintelligible with the wood muffling the sound between us.
“You didn’t look at it first?” Seriously?
“I saw pictures!” she shot back. “And the inspection report, and Google Maps. I just didn’t visit it…until today.”
Holy shit. She’d walked in blind? The house itself was structurally sound, but damn, did it need some upkeep. It hadn’t been touched since the Hatchers bought it back in the seventies.