She gripped his hand, ignoring the tiny jolts of excitement that danced across her palm when his skin touched hers. He gave a gentle tug. Bonnie shifted too quickly, tried to get her feet under her before she dropped from the shelf.
“Careful!” His warning came too late. She felt her dress catch, heard a distinctive rip and before she knew it, she’d landed face-first on the floor of his boat.
She raised her head and coughed. The worn carpet, which was the color of rusted metal, smelled like it had been laid at the turn of the century. Before she could even think of righting herself, he’d scooped both hands under her arms and hoisted her up.
“Whew.” That almost sounded like a word.
She stepped to one side and shoved down her skirt, only to have her ankle give way and send her toppling over.
“Ooooow!” She tried to break her second fall in as many minutes, but missed the closet door handle by inches.
He caught her again, this time locking his hands around her arms and pushing her back against the bulkhead. “Better now?” He hadn’t released her; seemed a bit reluctant to, given his furrowed brow.
“Better.” She nodded, then winced when she tried to put weight on her foot. “Ah, except for that. Ouch!” She would have hopped if she hadn’t thought she’d give herself a concussion on the overhead. “I must have twisted it when I got my shoe caught in the planks.”
“Damn. Last thing we want right now is you getting injured. Best get your weight off it until we’re sure it isn’t broken.”
He swept her off her feet and deposited her on one of the padded benches surrounding a scarred Formica table.
“It’s fine,” she protested when he bent down on one knee but he paid no attention to her.
She shivered against the skim of David's fingers as they pressed and prodded her ankle. She took the opportunity to stare at his hair… The breeze outside had messed it up a bit and her fingers itched to touch it, to see if it was as soft as it appeared. His hands were firm, yet rough and calloused. Honed by physical labor. He had lifted her as effortlessly as if she’d been a feather.
Bonnie flinched when he flexed her foot. It no longer hurt, just throbbed in protest.
“I don’t think it’s broken,” he said. The rumble of his deep voice had her quivering inside.
“No.” She shook her head and almost laughed at herself. “That's good. I, um, thank you.”
“It's okay,” he said with a flash of that heart-tugging smile. He pushed to his feet, took two steps away and pulled open the door to a small refrigerator under the counter. “I'm sorry you got hurt. The place is a mess… I know.” He produced an old-fashioned metal ice-cube tray and dropped it upside down into the sink.
"I don't think it's a mess, David," she replied hastily. "I think it’s a nice boat, and I'm glad you brought me"
Her words made him feel warm inside. He absolutely loved the way she adapted and found beauty in everything. It wasn't something he expected from someone like her so he ended up admiring that about her.
“Scoot back.” He said. He didn't want her to know just how much she affected him. He motioned for her to sit back in the booth and once her foot was up on the bench, he tied the towel-encased ice cubes with a rubber band and plopped the makeshift ice pack onto her injured ankle.
“Better?” he asked softly.
“It will be, thanks.” Bonnie replied. “You’re being awfully nice about this.”
“About what?” He hurried off, then returned with a duffel bag, jacket and stuffed recyclable grocery tote. He tossed his duffel through the opening under the ladder into what she assumed was one of the berth compartments.
“I don’t know. You're different from the guy you were when we first met. You seem so okay with being my…"Babysitter" as you called it the other time…Not that i think you are though”
He shrugged. “Well, maybe I decided to just go with the flow." Deep down, he knew that she was right and he didn't want to admit that he was starting to enjoy spending time with her. It had never been part of the plan and he didn't really want to talk about it either so he changed the topic immediately. "Are you hungry? You should be” After setting the groceries on the chipped counter, he began unloading the items.
“Starved.” Bonnie replied.
“I don’t have a huge selection I’m afraid. You know one thing about me, I can get by on peanut butter most days. Maybe tomorrow we can go shopping for more stuff”
Her stomach growled and he smiled again, chuckling. “Peanut butter it is. Strawberry jam okay?”
“Sounds great.” Bonnie replied. Tears burned the back of her eyes and she tried to distract herself by looking around the cabin. It was…homey, she supposed. Clearly, he had interesting interior-design ideas, no doubt inspired by classic 80s television. “Are you a renter?”
“Blue Blood?” David turned slightly and she could watch him slathering the bread. “Nope. This beauty is all mine now. Just finalized the purchase not too long ago.”
“Oh. Yeah, you told me that.”
“Is that a disappointed ‘oh’?.” he asked, “Kinda sounded like one”
Bonnie said nothing.
David slapped another piece of white bread on top of his swirled masterpiece and slid the sandwich onto a napkin. He set it, along with a butter knife, on the table for her. She blinked and a solitary tear slipped down her cheek.
“Is it your ankle? Are you in pain?” He shifted toward the ice pack, but she shook her head.
She tried to smile and swiped a hand under her eye. “No it’s not. Please don’t mind me. My Grams used to fix me peanut-butter-and-jam sandwiches when I was having a rough day. We were very close. She died some months ago.” She touched a finger to the pillow-like bread. “I really miss her.” Her voice hitched. “Sorry. I’m such a mess. I didn't mean to ruin the mood….Just memories, that’s all.”
He finished making his own sandwich, grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the bag and joined her at the table. “I understand, Bonnie, and you didn’t ruin the mood”