Summer Wild ✔️

Chapter Four

This is a bucket list, she thought, scanning the content of the paper.

Aiden moved to take it from her hand. His knee buckled. Biting back on the pain, he winced.

"Are you okay?" Charlotte rushed to his side. Her face was etched with worry. "What's wrong?" Shit. It must be his injury.

"It's nothing. I walked quite a long way to come here, which has put undue pressure on my leg." He wavered as if the weak muscles protested under strain of standing up.

"Are you sure? You look clammy." Charlotte rushed to put her hand around his waist and accompanied him to the couch. He collapsed the moment she relinquished her hold. "Do you have any medications?"

"I-in my car," he said through gritted teeth. The blinding pain made him groan. "It's a black Range Rover three blocks outside the red building that's a hotel."

"But parking outside it isn't allowed."

"The doorman there still thinks I am a cop."

"Remind me to laugh later about this." As she fished for his car keys in his jeans pocket, she told him, "I will be back. Don't move."

Aiden almost laughed but ended up muttering an oath.

Charlotte scrambled down the three blocks in her flip flops and grabbed the pills from the dashboard at record speed. Forty minutes later, as she re-entered her living room, she cried, "let me grab some water."

She could tell Aiden hated the injury fate had foisted on him. When she hurried back to where he lay panting in pain, it was a task to help him take the meds. 

Gulping for air, he screwed his eyes shut. She sat down on the edge of the coffee table, not knowing what else to do. As the minutes ticked by, he began to knead his jeans-clad thigh as if to loosen up the tightness in the muscles.

"Let me do it," she volunteered without a thought. Reaching out, she pushed his hands away and applied pressure with her fingers, massaging the tender area.

"Jesus," He hissed. "It hurts."

"I am so sorry," Charlotte cried, removing her hands.

"Do you have an ice pack?"

"I do. Let me get it." She jumped to her feet and raced to her kitchen to grab the gel ice pack she had bought several months ago to counteract the stiffness from her morning runs. "Here, this should do it."

When he placed it on his thigh, he let out a sigh of relief while sinking back onto the couch.

Without a word, Charlotte plopped down on the other end and watched him with apprehension. As his pallor returned to normal, the silence in the room became awkward. His nearness chased goosebumps down her spine. It amazed her how attuned she was to his breathing.

Feeling overwhelmed, Charlotte turned on the television and flipped channels until she came upon an episode of Fawlty Towers, a show her father loved. The slapstick antics of the actors filled the stillness that hung in the air.

She glanced at him. His eyes were glued to the screen, but she was not sure if he really watched the comedy show. When the program ended, she decided to speak first. "Do you miss being a detective?"

A noncommittal grunt sounded in response.

"I missed California and the freelance photography I did out there." Well, if he won't talk, it didn't mean she couldn't.

"And you left it to save your brother from a bad cop like me," Aiden retorted.

"No, I returned when James parted ways from his ex-wife and he needed some support. My mother is not a caring sort. My dad died when I was very young," she supplied.