Banged Up (9 page)

She had to get out of his room before he woke up. She would leave her snooping around his room for another time. One when she wasn’t buck naked—not to mention a little stiff and sore. She had used muscles last night she had forgotten about or never knew she had. Just thinking about some of the moves they had done made her pussy damp all over again.

When she spotted the clock her heart jumped. 8:28!

Crap! She was supposed to be at work at nine. She still had to shower and dress. As it was, she had a twenty-five minute drive ahead of her to get to campus.

Colby couldn’t drag the sheet along with her without waking Mace up, so she rushed down the hall with only her pile of clothes pressed to her chest. Once in the bathroom, she locked the door behind her and jumped into the shower.

Her hair still damp, she pulled on her work clothes in a rush. One shoe on, she attempted to slip on the other while she raced down the hall, only to stop short at the sight of Mace leaning against the wall next to the stairwell.

He only wore his cut-offs. His chest was still bare, making her breath catch. Were those teeth marks near his nipple? Oh God, she remembered biting and licking and flicking her tongue along those tight, hard rosettes sitting amongst a smattering of dark hair.

“Mace…” She cursed herself for sounding so breathless. It had to be the fact she was rushing, not the sight of his muscular pecs. Yeah, right.

“Late?” he asked nonchalantly. He acted like he had no other care in the world than to watch her rush around like a fool.

“More than late.” She finally got the troublesome shoe on her foot. She stood up straight but avoided looking into his eyes. Not to mention, anything else.

“I wanted to thank you…”

She started down the steps, tucking her blouse into her slacks. “Not now, we’ll talk later.”

She didn’t want to blow him off, but she had no choice. Not if she wanted to keep her job. And she needed it. Desperately. And the last thing she needed right now was to rehash what had happened. Hurrying through the foyer, she snatched her briefcase, glad she remembered it.

“I’ll make dinner,” he called down the steps. “What time do you get off work?”

“Five.” She slammed the front door behind her. Standing in the entranceway, she realized she had forgotten her car keys.

The front door cracked open and Mace’s arm reached out, her key-ring jingling on the tip of his finger. “I’ll have dinner at six. Don’t forget.”

Colby snagged the keys and raced to her car, calling, “Okay! I’ll be there.”

———

The scent of dinner immediately wafted over Colby when she opened the door. God, she felt bad. She was so late. Calling had never even crossed her mind. She wasn’t used to having someone waiting for her at home anymore. And really, she hadn’t thought he was serious when he said he would cook dinner.

After setting her briefcase on the foyer table, she kicked off her shoes to pad silently down the hall to the kitchen.

He was probably really mad at her. And he had every right to be. Damn, damn, damn. She’d screwed up again. It was getting to be her life story.

She peered around the doorway to see the table set, the glasses filled with what looked like red wine and Mace nowhere in sight. For now, the coast was clear. Colby stepped cautiously into the kitchen. She could see a few pots in the sink and an open cookbook on the counter. “Mace?”

Silence.

Colby compared her watch to the clock on the wall to make sure it was right. It was.

The time really was 8:15. “Damn, I’m so sorry,” she whispered to the empty room.

“It’s okay.”

Colby jumped, her heart stopping for an instant. Mace had come up behind her. She spun around to face him, hoping he would understand, hoping … just hoping she hadn’t hurt him. Not too badly, anyway. “Mace, I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “You’ve already apologized.”

“I should have called. I just didn’t think. I’m not used to coming home to—”

Mace cut her off, brushing past her. “It’s no big deal.” He reached the sink and turned to face her. “Really.”

Colby swept her arm toward the table, indicating the place settings and the now cold candle stubs. They must have been burning for a while because the wax had dripped all over the tablecloth.

She couldn’t look him in the eye. He didn’t seem angry, or hurt, but… “No, it was a big deal. I should have realized you were going to make a big meal. More than spaghetti…”

“I did.”

“What?”

Her gaze had flicked to his face, but Mace abruptly turned to the sink and began to scrub the pots. He was putting a little more effort into it than was necessary. “I made spaghetti—whole wheat, by the way. With clam sauce and great garlic bread. I kept some warm for you, do you want it?”

Colby felt so awful she didn’t know if she should eat it. Maybe she should pretend she ate earlier. She wanted to make the choice which would hurt him the least. “Do you want me to have some?” she asked carefully.

Mace smacked a wet pot into the drain pan. “Of course. I made it for you, didn’t I?”

If he could make her feel any worse, he was accomplishing it. “Yes, I’d love some. Let me just go and change. I’d hate to get sauce all over my work clothes.”

“I’ll have it set out when you come back down.”

Colby raced up the stairs, and changed in a flash. Dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and an old Elton John T-shirt, she hurried back downstairs.

Mace sat across from her while she ate. She ate every last piece of spaghetti on her plate. She complimented his cooking between mouthfuls of delicious pasta. She smiled between bites and kept the little conversation they had as light as she could. It seemed to loosen his mood a bit. Just the effect she was striving for. But she had to admit, the spaghetti was good. And he had been thoughtful enough to make the garlic bread out of a whole grain loaf.

Before she could stand to wash her own dishes, he was there, brushing her hands away from her plate. He had them washed and rinsed and carefully placed in the drain pan before she could bring herself to move, since she was so full. He was wonderful.

Too wonderful. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. She was not used to this controlled anger. She must have really hurt his feelings. She swore to herself she would never do it again.

Colby poured herself another glass of wine. She sipped at it, waiting for him to make the next move. She wished he would scream at her for being late or so callous for not calling. She wished he would yell at her for something. But he didn’t.

She was used to men expressing themselves loudly. She didn’t know how to deal with a man who was silently brooding.

Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal after all. It was possible she was only imagining the undercurrents between them. Yes, that was it; it was all in her head. Unnecessary paranoia.

—

Mace watched Colby refill her wine glass for the third time. He wondered if she truly was sorry for missing his—
their
—dinner. It was the first time he had ever cooked like this. She hadn’t even seen the dessert he had stashed in the fridge, yet. Yes, she had apologized, but…

When he had sat alone at the dinner table at six, at seven, then until eight, he’d realized Colby had better things to do with her life than to come home to a cripple. They had no ties; they just had some casual sex. That’s all. She had her own life to live.

Most likely, she had eaten dinner before coming home. Maybe with her assistant Matt, or whatever his name was. She had probably only eaten his meal after seeing the table he had set. She had felt sorry for him.

Well, he wouldn’t let her know how it had affected him. He’d just blow it off.

She was sucking down the wine, though, wasn’t she? He wasn’t sure what to make of it. One would think after their amazing sex session last night she wouldn’t have to get drunk to spend a little time with him. Maybe she had all day to think on how she didn’t want to be stuck with someone who was damaged goods.

They had done it in the dark last night; maybe she couldn’t bear the thought of doing it again in the light, when she could see his shortcomings.
Whatever
. He was a big boy, he could get over it.

But when Colby suggested they go relax in the den, Mace picked up the half empty wine bottle, grabbed his glass, and followed her.

He stopped short in the doorway separating the kitchen from the den. What was he doing? Following her around like a lost, lonely puppy?

He was about to turn around and leave when Colby patted the couch next to her. He obediently sat, placing the bottle on the coffee table. Look what a little sex could do to him. Make him pussy-whipped.

And ripe for another letdown.

“So how does your leg feel?”

Mace grimaced. His leg was the last thing he wanted to talk about. “A little stiff.”

Colby turned toward him, after putting down her glass. “Why?”

“I started physical therapy again this morning.”

“Physical therapy? Where?”

Was she really interested? Or was she just trying to make small talk? “Community General.”

“Will you go every day?”

“No. Three times a week, but I have to work out here at home every day.”

“Is it painful? No, don’t answer that, I know it has to be.”

His fingers clenched around the stem of his wine glass. Goddamn it. He did not want her sympathy. “I don’t care. I want to walk. I want to
be
normal again. I don’t want to walk with a cane or a walker like an old man. I don’t want to be handicapped for the rest of my life. I need to redevelop my muscles as much as possible.”

“You’re not handicapped.” She placed her warm fingers around his forearm.

He studied the contrast of her delicate, white hand next to his darker skin. He said, “No? I feel like it,” with a little more force than was necessary. He took a deep breath before continuing. “In my line of work limping is a handicap.”

“It’s not so bad.”

“I’m surprised you say that after you saw it last night.”

Colby shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“Well, it bothers me.”

She gave his arm a slight squeeze. “Mace—”

“Colby.” He hesitated for a split second before the rest of the words escaped in a jumble. “Will you help me with my physical therapy?”
Damn
. He wanted her help, but he hadn’t wanted to ask her like this. Not after the dinner fiasco. Well, now it was too late.

He’d have to just hope she’d say yes.

She looked at him in surprise. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”

Her answer gave Mace hope, it wasn’t a definite no. It would be good for her, for him. For them. “Come on, it’s not hard. Look, the hospital is only a few miles from the University. Why don’t you come over to the hospital on your lunch hour the next time I have a session. The therapist would be glad to show you what to do.”

Mace could still feel her hesitation. He had to pull out all the stops. He wanted her help, needed her help. Hell, he just wanted her in general. Just see her red hair spread over his pillow while he was pounding her until she cried out. He could hear her small mews in his head all over again. He wiggled into a more comfortable position for his growing cock. He let out a long, slow breath, bringing his thoughts back to the topic at hand.

“I’ll make you a deal. You help me out with my exercises and I’ll help you out with your house.” He knew she couldn’t turn that one down. His desire to walk normally was just as strong as her desire to finish her house. Whatever the reason. Mace raised his wineglass to her. “Deal?”

After a slight hesitation, her glass rang against his. “Deal.”

Chapter Six

“You know, tomorrow’s Saturday and there’s a lot to be done at the house.”

Mace looked up from the treatment table to see Colby headed toward him. His heart thumped a little harder while he watched her slender figure work her way across the PT room. He was relieved she had showed up.

Robin, his physical therapist, finished the set of exercises with him before asking, “Is this the woman you want me to teach?”

“Yep, that’s her.” He leaned over closer to his therapist and whispered loudly, “She’s pretty smart, she should catch on quickly.”

“Hey, I heard that!”

He introduced Colby to Robin. She shook hands with the older heavyset woman.

“From what I’ve seen so far, it doesn’t look hard.”

Mace just caught the color rushing up her neck and over the freckles which sprinkled her small nose. He had to stare at Robin, who was about three times Colby’s size and twenty years older, to keep from getting a huge hard-on.

“It’s not. The point is he has to do a certain amount of each exercise each day and he needs help. It’s not easy doing it alone,” Robin admitted. “He’s an easy patient; he wants to get better, not like some others I’ve worked with. And if you forget anything, I’m sure he’ll remember. He knows the routine. Whoever he had therapy with before did a good job.”

“You know, I’m still in the room here. I may be crippled but I’m not deaf.” Mace toweled the sweat off his brow. Some of it was from his PT and some… Well, he fought to keep his thoughts from the other night.

Robin leaned over him to say, “You need to put a dollar in the jar for using the C word again.” She was all bark and no bite.

He chuckled. “Robin, explain the exercises to her while I take a break.”

“No way, no how. I’ll use you to demonstrate. Colby, will you grab the blue exercise band over there?”

Mace faked a groan. He really didn’t mind the extra exercises. The more he did, the better he felt—until later, when it caught up with him. Colby watched Robin put him through his next set of stretches with the wide rubber band. At least, concentrating on the exercises kept his thoughts clean.

For forty minutes, Robin explained and demonstrated different stretches and exercises. The therapist would switch places with her, making sure Colby knew how to assist Mace correctly.

Mace was drenched with sweat, and Colby looked like he felt. Tired.

Robin threw Mace a clean towel, and left to grab a pad of paper to write down notes for Colby. While she was gone, Mace took full advantage of their alone time.