Until We Fly (The Beautifully Broken) Read Online Free PDF Page B

bed.  Get a grip. 
    He grimaces.  “Apparently not.”
    “And you can’t drive,” I add. 
    He grimaces again.  “Nope.”
    “And I owe you.  So let me take you wherever you need to go.  After I get you some pants,” I add quickly, red staining my cheeks. 
    A slow grin spreads over his face.  “You don’t want to walk out of here with me naked?” he asks drily.
    More than you know, I think. 
    “Nah,” I say.  “We don’t want to give the little old ladies heart attacks.”
    Or me. 
    “What size do you wear?” I ask, trying to put the image of Naked Brand aside.
    “36x34,” he answers. “But it’ll be hard to put pants on, because of the knee brace.  Shorts will probably be best, but you don’t need to get them.  I can…”
    He trails off hesitantly. 
    “Well, I guess I do need to ask you to get them.  I don’t know what else I’d do.  My bag’s in my truck, but I don’t know where my truck is.”
    He sounds annoyed by that, and I laugh.  “I can see you don’t like to depend on other people,” I tell him.  “I get that.  But trust me, I owe you.  I could buy you a million pairs of shorts and my debt wouldn’t be paid.  And we’ll figure out where your truck is.”  
    I walk out while he’s protesting. 
    I return thirty minutes later with a pair of athletic shorts.  
    I toss them to him.  “They’re stretchy, so I figured they would be easier to slide on.”
    “That’s perfect,” he tells me.  “I’m not fancy.”
    I’m awkward and hesitant, because I don’t know what to do now, not while Brand holds the shorts in his hand, and I know he needs to put them on. He probably needs help standing.  His knee is in a stationary brace, his ankle must be sore, and he’s not supposed to bear any weight.  And he outweighs me by a hundred pounds.   
    “How’s this going to work?” I ask him dumbly.
    He grimaces.  “I hate to ask you, but could you help?  Or I can call the nurse…”
    I shake my head immediately, rushing to grab the shorts.  “Absolutely not.  It’s the least I can do.”
    I don’t know why my hands shake as Brand pulls back the sheet.  I don’t know why I’m hesitant to look at his legs, which lead to his pelvis, which leads to his… Gah.  No wonder my hands are shaky.
    I grit my teeth and slide the leg hole over Brand’s knee brace, as carefully as I can.  I see him grit his teeth as I slide them up, over his bandaged thigh.  I’m as careful as I can be, but I know it must still hurt.
    My fingers graze the hot skin at his waist, and the smoothness of it is electrifying.  It’s silky and velvety at the same time as it is rock hard.   
    I suck in a breath as his fingers bump mine when he reaches for the waistband to finish pulling them up.
    “Well, that was an Olympic maneuver,” he says wryly.  “Thanks.”
    I nod.  “Where’s your shirt?”
    He gestures toward the chair, and I grab the black tee, tossing it to him.  Taking a step, I untie his hospital gown, glancing at his muscle-bound back as I do. 
    A bald eagle flies across his shoulder blades, a ferocious expression on its face, its sharp talons exposed and ready to attack.  Bold black letters are scrolled above it.  I stand on a wall to protect what is mine.  
    Warmth rushes through me again, through all the hidden parts of me, at the idea of this fierce man protecting what is his. 
    I can’t help but wonder what that must feel like. To be his.   To stand within those strong arms, to kiss those full, firm lips.  If I were his, I know he’d protect me until his dying breath.  I could sleep every night without a fear, without a doubt.  He’d keep the monsters at bay.
    I shake the ridiculous thoughts away, and step back. 
    He’s not mine. 
    Brand lets the hospital gown fall away and I inhale sharply. 
    Sweet Mary and all the saints. 
    God, I wish he were mine. 
    Washboard abs don’t describe what Brand’s got hidden under his shirt.  His chest