Blue Maneuver Read Free Page B

asked for help.
    And here it was.
    Something told me I would never get home if I refused it. “Okay.”
    “Let me know when you’ve recovered.” The deep timbre of his voice blanketed my fear like a balm and his arm settled around my shoulders. His fingers stroked my spine briefly, before tickling my nape and slipping under my hair to massage my scalp.
    Hmm. That felt nice. The vestiges of my fear melted away, leaving only a building ache inside me. When was the last time a man had taken care of me? I wasn’t surprised when my memories turned up empty. Maybe being strong and independent was overrated, if it deprived me of massages.
    Even if they were by a complete stranger who banished rational thoughts with his caresses and held me awfully close. A fissure of alarm bubbled up. Stranger, smanger. Someone who smelled like sunshine and soap couldn’t be all bad.
    “We’ll just stay right here, until the nausea passes.” Peppermint-scented words stirred the hair on my neck.
    “Nausea?” Was that my voice? It sounded a bit rusty and lower than normal. It definitely didn’t match the one inside my head. And just what had the man seen? Good grief! Didn’t witnesses to my humiliation have an occupancy limit?
    “You’ve got a knot on your forehead.” His fingers gently combed through my hair.
    I wanted to ask if he’d been watching me, but couldn’t summon the words. Instead I focused on the pleasure hemming in the pain. I could play Damsel in Distress.
    “You didn’t pass out, did you?”
    A glimmer of self-preservation stopped me, before I nodded. “I don’t know. I definitely had the wind knocked out of me.”
    I straightened then waited for my head to settle on an even keel. Never had I been this affected by a simple fall. What if my brain was swelling? What if I went to bed and woke up dead? Should I call for an ambulance? See a doctor? Crap on a cracker! I didn’t have insurance to pay for an emergency room visit and there was the matter of getting there. I seriously doubted I should drive, even if I owned a car.
    But I wasn’t helpless; I could Dial-a-Ride. Phone. I patted the flat pockets of my shorts. My cell must have slipped out, when I’d tripped. But where had it gone?
    His arm fell away from my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
    “Phone.” I brushed the grass near my bottom. Please God, don’t let it have gotten far. I opened my eyes, glanced down and tasted again the onion bagel I’d eaten two weeks ago. Note to self: stop moving head. And just how was I supposed to search for my phone?
    “Is it purple?”
    My hero. Relief tumbled through me. How many purple cell phones could there be near me? I caught myself before I nodded. “Yes.”
    “Here.” Warm fingers curled around mine.
    “Thank you.” Seconds later the sleek casing slipped against my palm. Flipping it open, I raised it to eye level. The screen remained dark. My thumb pressed the volume button. Nothing. “Son of a—”
    “You can say it.” Soft chuckles drifted on the pearly dawn. “I’m a big boy. I’ve heard lots of words.”
    I resisted the urge to look at him. Barely. He’d have to be damn good looking for me to weather another skullquake. “Monkey’s butt!”
    He choked mid-laugh. “Monkey’s butt? Is that even possible?”
    Maybe not. But it was better than dropping a dollar I didn’t have into the swear jar. It wasn’t even as satisfying as swearing, but it was part of my new self-improvement regime. I snapped my cell phone closed and groped my leg before shoving the thing into a pocket. “You’d be surprised at the advances made in medical science.”
    Or not. I would though. I hated science, medical or otherwise. Still, he didn’t need to know that my language could turn a sailor’s ears red. Just one of the many things I learned, when my parent’s moved to that commune near the oil fields in Oklahoma.
    “I’ll take your word for it.” He cupped my chin. Gently but firmly, he turned my face to the