to keep the image of his hands yanking those shorts down, of a bit of athletic outdoor sex—somewhere with less gorse, obviously—from entering his unruly mind, and followed after her.
“Careful,” he couldn’t keep from saying, just as she stepped on a loose rock that rolled under her left foot, and he saw her start to fall. He lunged, grabbed for her. And pulled her further off balance. She twisted as she tried to regain her footing, her right foot sliding off another slippery rock, and she toppled. He felt the thunk as her face made solid contact with his elbow on the way down. She let out a little yelp, fell to her knees, put her hands out to catch herself, not quite quickly enough.
“Ally.” He grabbed her, pulled her upright again. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” she said with a shaky laugh. “After all that telling you I didn’t need help.” She put a hand to her eye. “Ow.”
He helped her up the track to a level spot. “Let me see.” He took her face in his hand. “Bloody hell. I’ve punched you in the eye.” The red bruising was already apparent, her eye starting to swell a bit too. He’d thought he couldn’t cock things up with her any worse than he already had. And now this.
She looked up at him and started to laugh, then winced at the motion. “Ow. It really hurts. I hope this is a first. That you’ve never given a woman a black eye before.”
“Bloody hell,” he said again, feeling horribly responsible. He looked down at her knees, the cut that had opened up on one of them, the bruising from her fall onto the rocks. “Your leg too.”
He pulled his water bottle from his pack, bent to squirt the clean water over the spot. “We’ll wash a bit of the dirt out of it, anyway. It’s not bleeding too badly. Are you OK to walk back?”
“Well, yeah,” she said with another laugh. “What are my options? You going to helicopter me out?”
“I could run back for the ute, drive up the farm track,” he suggested. “Get closer, anyway.”
“No. It’s less than an hour, isn’t it? I’m fine. I can do that.”
Still, by the time they were back at the ute, she was limping pretty badly, and that eye was puffing up even more. He was going to have some interesting questions to answer from Drew, Nate thought suddenly. He knew the other man wasn’t his skipper anymore, but he couldn’t help thinking of him that way. And punching his houseguest in the face . . . that probably wasn’t on.
“We’ll go sit in the café for a bit, get some ice on your face and your knee,” he decided as he put the ute in gear and pulled off the verge.
“You don’t want to do that,” she objected. “You don’t want everyone to see me with you like this. They’ll take your picture, you know they will. And then there you’ll be, sitting with a woman with a black eye. I’ve spent enough time with Drew and Hannah to know how interesting that’ll be to your eager public.”
“What? That doesn’t matter.” He brushed the objection aside. “It’s a good twenty-minute drive back to Drew’s place. We need to get ice on that straight away. And get a sticking plaster for that knee.”
He really hadn’t seemed bothered by the obviously raised eyebrows, the not-so-discreet cell phone cameras, when he’d been sitting in the café with her, her injured leg propped on a chair, a bag of ice on her bandaged knee, another bag pressed to her eye. And that had impressed her. It certainly wasn’t the worst injury she’d ever suffered. A bit ridiculous, really, that somebody who’d climbed so much would have hurt herself falling on a perfectly easy trail. But no more ridiculous than climbers she knew who’d slipped on the bathroom floor, or banged themselves in the knee with the car door on the way to a climb. When you were climbing, you were paying attention, looking out for the dangers. And when you weren’t . . . Well, she’d been paying attention to Nate, all right. That’s how she’d
“Careful,” he couldn’t keep from saying, just as she stepped on a loose rock that rolled under her left foot, and he saw her start to fall. He lunged, grabbed for her. And pulled her further off balance. She twisted as she tried to regain her footing, her right foot sliding off another slippery rock, and she toppled. He felt the thunk as her face made solid contact with his elbow on the way down. She let out a little yelp, fell to her knees, put her hands out to catch herself, not quite quickly enough.
“Ally.” He grabbed her, pulled her upright again. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” she said with a shaky laugh. “After all that telling you I didn’t need help.” She put a hand to her eye. “Ow.”
He helped her up the track to a level spot. “Let me see.” He took her face in his hand. “Bloody hell. I’ve punched you in the eye.” The red bruising was already apparent, her eye starting to swell a bit too. He’d thought he couldn’t cock things up with her any worse than he already had. And now this.
She looked up at him and started to laugh, then winced at the motion. “Ow. It really hurts. I hope this is a first. That you’ve never given a woman a black eye before.”
“Bloody hell,” he said again, feeling horribly responsible. He looked down at her knees, the cut that had opened up on one of them, the bruising from her fall onto the rocks. “Your leg too.”
He pulled his water bottle from his pack, bent to squirt the clean water over the spot. “We’ll wash a bit of the dirt out of it, anyway. It’s not bleeding too badly. Are you OK to walk back?”
“Well, yeah,” she said with another laugh. “What are my options? You going to helicopter me out?”
“I could run back for the ute, drive up the farm track,” he suggested. “Get closer, anyway.”
“No. It’s less than an hour, isn’t it? I’m fine. I can do that.”
Still, by the time they were back at the ute, she was limping pretty badly, and that eye was puffing up even more. He was going to have some interesting questions to answer from Drew, Nate thought suddenly. He knew the other man wasn’t his skipper anymore, but he couldn’t help thinking of him that way. And punching his houseguest in the face . . . that probably wasn’t on.
“We’ll go sit in the café for a bit, get some ice on your face and your knee,” he decided as he put the ute in gear and pulled off the verge.
“You don’t want to do that,” she objected. “You don’t want everyone to see me with you like this. They’ll take your picture, you know they will. And then there you’ll be, sitting with a woman with a black eye. I’ve spent enough time with Drew and Hannah to know how interesting that’ll be to your eager public.”
“What? That doesn’t matter.” He brushed the objection aside. “It’s a good twenty-minute drive back to Drew’s place. We need to get ice on that straight away. And get a sticking plaster for that knee.”
He really hadn’t seemed bothered by the obviously raised eyebrows, the not-so-discreet cell phone cameras, when he’d been sitting in the café with her, her injured leg propped on a chair, a bag of ice on her bandaged knee, another bag pressed to her eye. And that had impressed her. It certainly wasn’t the worst injury she’d ever suffered. A bit ridiculous, really, that somebody who’d climbed so much would have hurt herself falling on a perfectly easy trail. But no more ridiculous than climbers she knew who’d slipped on the bathroom floor, or banged themselves in the knee with the car door on the way to a climb. When you were climbing, you were paying attention, looking out for the dangers. And when you weren’t . . . Well, she’d been paying attention to Nate, all right. That’s how she’d
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