The confused look Keegan held earlier was now wiped away. Her blue eyes were soft when she replied, “No worries. I just hope that you’re okay.” She turned towards her boyfriend, Camden, whom is probably the second hottest guy I’d ever seen, (we don’t need to talk about the man currently hovering over me taking first place in that category) and asked if he could come help me get on the golf cart. Just as Camden started walking towards me, two strong arms lifted me in the air and I instinctively wrapped my arms around Turner’s neck.
“I’ve got her,” he replied as he moved us away from everyone. I had no doubt they were all looking on in confusion.
“What are you doing? I could have walked you know.”
He rolled his eyes. “No, you couldn’t. You already tried to wiggle it and look how far that got you. Just hush and let me get you on the cart.”
The little butterflies in my tummy were fluttering wildly now. Turner was currently caring for me as if he knew what he was doing. I was aware that Camden owned a gym, so I imagine they all knew what to do in case someone got injured. But I felt like I was a hindrance to his game with his family. Getting a headache right between my eyes, I closed my mouth and chose not to argue, and just relax until we got back to the house. When Turner set me on the overheated plastic seat, he didn’t give me a second glance as he rounded the front and slid in next to me. Turning back towards the field, I noticed the game had resumed but Keegan stopped and gave me a small wave and a sad smile. I lifted my hand in return just before Turner drove us away. Every little bump on the road jarred my ankle and I gritted my teeth to keep from whining about the pace he was driving. Surely he must know the jostling was making the injury ache. Clenching my fists in the seat, I saw Turner glance down at my hands and he let off of the gas a little, but he remained quiet. I thought he might’ve asked if I was doing alright, but he didn’t. He stayed quiet just as I was. Folding my arms over my chest, I closed my eyes and let the steady hum of the engine relax me until I felt us coming to a stop.
As Turner shut off the cart, I opened my eyes and swung my legs out and used the back of the seat to lift myself up while I held my sore leg up. He came around to me and acted as if he were going to pick me up again. This time I held my hand up to stop him.
Shaking my head I said, “No, I’ve got it.”
“Annabelle, I can easily carry you inside.”
I met his blue eyes. “I said, no.” His jaw ticked and he huffed before we walked into the house.
I gave a little hop, letting go of the seat. Wobbling, I almost lost my balance but regained control and hopped again. I made a few more jumps, grabbing on to things in the garage as I went along. A very frustrated looking Turner stood at the door to the mud room. When I finally made it to him, he looked down at me. He was already much taller than my five-foot-five stature, but when he was standing up on the step, he towered over me. As if trying to intimidate me with his size, he continued to block the entrance into the house. My leg that was currently holding all of my weight was getting tired and I desperately just wanted to sit down. Grasping the door frame I gave a little jump and nearly bumped into him when I hopped inside. He stepped back before our bodies touched and admittedly I was slightly disappointed that he did. Shaking it off, I looked at him over my shoulder, hobbling my way through the narrow hall.
“Can you show me where a rag is for the ice? I’m not comfortable digging around your mother’s kitchen.” I turned and started making my way ahead of him.
I heard Turner grumble before he responded with, “Yeah, I’ll get one.”
I noticed the food from lunch was still on the counters and I looked around the spacious room. Walnut colored cabinets lined a U-shaped kitchen set with a beautiful golden hued granite, and stainless steel appliances. There was an island in the middle that had a small rooster pitcher as a decoration. I reached towards it to help balance myself while Turner went to get a cloth. Everything about this place screamed country chic and warmth. If I ever moved out of my parent’s house or redecorated it on my own, this is what I’d want. The room made you feel welcome, like you wanted to sit down and eat a slice of pie and have a cup of coffee. I looked up when Turner came back in the kitchen and headed toward the freezer to gather some ice cubes. I swallowed, feeling the little butterflies making another appearance. Why did he make me feel this way?
When we had been eating lunch I watched him, my eyes intermittently wandered to where he’d been sitting. I didn’t want to look at him, but I felt a pull to. I was curious about him. He was no doubt the best good looking man I think I’d ever seen. I watched him with prying eyes as he had spoken to his dad. He was calm—relaxed, but there was an undertone of unease. His blue eyes held a wealth of knowledge and the words that rolled off his tongue were that of an educated man. Turner held his shoulders high and his back straight. I’d never seen shoulders so broad. But then again, as I glanced around the table, every male in this family had the same stature. Turner came across as dominant, those waves that traveled off of him quiet and strong. It was as though little invisible crests moved through the room and wrapped around you, silently pulling you in without you even knowing it. It was unnerving.
Taking another look at him while he moved through the kitchen, I drank in his good looks. He had high cheek bones and a strong square jaw sporting a five o’clock shadow. My fingers tips tingled in an odd way to reach up and brush them across the rough surface. The urge to graze a man’s skin was never something that I ever really battled with. And it wasn’t because I had never wanted to touch a man, it was that I stuffed down the desires like an unwanted annoyance. I realized I was attracted to him.
Not good.
As Turner came toward me, I did what I always do . . . remained indifferent. I looked up at him when he stood in front of me, meeting his crystal eyes head on. I felt the dominance coming off of him but I shrugged the sensation off and made a small hop towards the breakfast nook. There was a little table with two chairs and I really just wanted to take a moment to rest. Before I was able to get any further, hands came under my arms and Turner lifted me up like a small child and set me on the island. The stone was cool under my legs. I wanted to protest that he had picked me up again without my permission, but the relief of not standing anymore was enough to keep my mouth shut. I saw a small smile quirk at the corner of his full lips, and I wondered if he expected me to say something.
“Lift your leg and rest your ankle on your knee, please.”
I raised a brow. “The brute has manners. Interesting.”
I did as he asked and he gently placed the rag over my already swollen ankle.
“Of course I have manners. What made you think I didn’t?” he asked, confused.
I felt my own mouth fighting off a smile. “It’s just that you have picked me up twice now without asking me, and then you didn’t even bother apologizing for invading my personal space. So hearing a ‘please’ come from you is . . . nice.”
He grinned. “The doctor in me tends to act before considering that I may be being intrusive. So for that, I apologize.”
“Doctor?” I asked inquisitively.
“Keegan never told you?” His piercing blue eyes met mine.
I shook my head. “No. I only know a little about Camden and Dodger. Before today, I hadn’t really even remembered Camden had two other brothers.”
His boyish grin grew wider and the fluttering in my tummy did a summer sault. “I’m a Fellow at UGA Medical.”
This was complete news to me. During lunch he had asked me what field I was interested in working. I answered saying Sports Medicine or Labor and Delivery. He pushed me a little further and asked which one I wanted to be in more. I didn’t really know. I favored sports medicine, but when it came to having a job, it didn’t really matter. I just wanted to be a nurse and help people. Besides, I couldn’t continue to live off of my parent’s life insurance and investments. Okay, well, technically I could, but I wanted to have my own money.