Lacey tossed aside the strip of gauze and picked up another.
Travis watched her, frowning, wishing he shared her detachment. But he didn’t. Jack was his brother. His twin brother. And when Jack hurt, so did he. Jack’s first marriage had left scars that Travis felt partially responsible for, and the accident that had stolen his son had left his brother—in Travis’s opinion—emotionally unstable. As a result, he felt duty-bound to see that his brother wasn’t hurt again.
He sighed heavily, feeling the frustration building. He didn’t want to think about his brother’s current emotional state any more, or his own failure to stop the wedding.
And the woman who was nursing his cuts offered just the distraction he needed to forget his troubles for awhile. A tight little butt, small waist, full ripe breasts. Sensuous lips pursed in concentration.
His own lips began to curve upward as she moved to stand between his spread knees again. Yeah, she was just the distraction he needed. Pleased with his current situation, he laid his head back and closed his eyes, prepared to enjoy the feminine attention. He felt her fingers graze his temple as she combed back his hair, then the weight of her hand when she pressed her palm against the side of his head, holding his hair out of her way. Soothed by her touch, he inhaled deeply…and filled his senses with her. No flowery perfumes for this woman, he reflected, fully relaxed now. Just soap, sunshine and pure woman.
Intrigued by her and by the brief story John Lee had shared with him about her questionable ancestry, he opened his eyes to study her. The light was behind her and left shadows on her face, but he could see well enough to make out her features. Wide green eyes framed by long dark lashes, a cute button of a nose with a light sprinkling of freckles across its bridge. Full sensuous lips, a stubborn chin.
A face full of contradictions.
As he decided this, she placed a finger beneath his chin and angled his face toward the light, furrowing her forehead in concern.
“That cut’s pretty deep,” she said uneasily. “You might need a couple of stitches.”
“Can you sew?”
Startled by the question, she shifted her gaze to his. “No,” she said, then bit back a smile when she saw that he was teasing. She glanced at the cut again and sighed, shaking her head. “But without stitches, you’re going to have a scar.”
“It’ll just add character.”
She shrugged as she straightened. “It’s your face.”
“And a handsome one, huh?”
She snorted a laugh and tossed aside the square of soiled cotton. “Watch it. Your ego’s showing.”
He caught her hand, and pulled her back around to face him. “Are you a nurse?”
Standing so close, Lacey had to admit that he was right. He did have a handsome face. And, fat lip or not, the sexiest smile she believed she’d ever seen.
Uncomfortably aware of the hand that held hers, she eased free and reached for the antiseptic cream. “No. I’m a barrel racer.” She squeezed a dollop of cream onto her finger and leaned to smear it on the cut.
“A barrel racer, huh? Too bad. You’d have made a good nurse. You’ve got a nice touch.”
Not knowing what to say in reply, she remained silent as she dabbed the cream along the wound.
“You’re Lacey, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’d have guessed right off.”
“Guessed what?” she asked absently, concentrating on keeping the cream on the cut and out of his eye.
“That you’re a McCloud.”
She jerked her hand away and straightened, staring down at him. “How?”
“You look just like ’em.”
Frowning, she tore her gaze from his and grabbed a rag to wipe the cream from her fingers. “No, I don’t.”
When he laughed, she shot him a look sharp enough to fillet a fish…but he just smiled. “Sorry, but you do.”
“I do not,” she repeated firmly.
“Yeah, you do.” When she huffed a breath, he laughed again. “I didn’t mean that as an insult. Hell, they’re all beautiful women.” He watched her rip open a bandage, her jerky movements reflecting her agitation, and added, “But I guess, being a woman, you wouldn’t have noticed that.” Her scowl deepened as she leaned to place the bandage over the cut. “Now, take me for instance—” he began, then flinched when she pressed the bandage into place.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“No harm done,” he said and continued with his observation. “I noticed right off how pretty they were, and I knew immediately that they were sisters.”
“How? They don’t look a thing alike.”
“Their colorings different, and they’re built differently, but the similarities are there.”
Having completed her first aid, she gave him a nudge with her hip, making room for herself on the bench, then dropped down beside him. Pulling the kit to her lap, she started replacing the supplies. “Enlighten me.”
“The way they walk, the way they talk. They’re all three strong women, sure of themselves and each other and their place in the family unit.”
Lacey snorted and closed the lid with a snap. “Well, if that’s what you’re basing your assessment on, you’re wrong, because I don’t have a place in this family.”
“Yeah, you do.” He grinned when she turned to glare at him. “You just haven’t found it, yet.”
“Yeah, right,” she muttered and stood, stretching to replace the kit in the cabinet.
Travis watched her, noticing the way her shirt molded those firm breasts, the tiny waist, the slender hips, the long stretch of muscular legs. He appreciated a beautiful woman, always had, and he considered the one he was currently looking at a prime example of the gender.
Deciding the trip to the Double-Cross might not be a total loss after all, he smiled as he took advantage of her precarious position and bumped his foot against her left boot, knocking her off-balance. She sucked in a startled breath, flailing her arms in an attempt to recover…but dropped neatly into his lap, just as he’d planned.
He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and snugged her back against his chest, nuzzling his nose in her hair. “Is this a bed I’m sitting on?” he whispered at her ear.
She held her body rigid against his. “Y-yes.”
“Is it big enough for two to lie down on?”
“N-no.”
“That’s okay,” he said, and nipped playfully at her earlobe, “’cause I was kinda hoping you’d be stretched out on top of me, anyway.”
