Free Southern Exposure (Southern Desires Series Book 2) by Jeannette Winters

again to cover her nakedness. She’d never been comfortable with her body before and even less now. With the wounds treated, there was no reason for him to be there. So why was he?
    “I’m okay. You can go back to whatever you were doing before.”
    She knew she sounded cold and unappreciative, but the last thing she wanted was to give him the wrong impression. Or maybe it was the right one, but either way, I don’t want him knowing I want him. That will only make it more awkward.
    He got off her bed and stood by her side. “Why were you crying?”
    She didn’t look up at him. Lying wasn’t something that came easily for her. “It hurt. That’s all.”
    Mark stood there for a moment, and she was positive he was going to push the subject. Holding her breath as he moved, she waited for him to pull her into his arms and kiss her. But instead, he brushed past her and left her standing alone. This is good. This is what I want.
    She grabbed the soiled towel off her bed and threw it on the floor, then went and laid down, pulling the sheet over her head. When was I last held in a man’s arms? Had it really been years ago? It felt so nice, so . . . safe. Sheltered. Less . . . alone.
    Mark didn’t want to leave her, and that only angered him. He went into protective mode when he saw the blood. It was all instinct, and he never once had to think about what to do. It was no different than what he would’ve done for any of his men.
    What wasn’t natural was his reaction to her. His heart was pounding when she was crying. He could’ve held her forever and wanted to promise her the world if it’d stop what was hurting her. She might’ve said it was the alcohol, but he knew that wasn’t the only thing.
    If she would’ve opened up to him, he would’ve been lost. He wasn’t sure if he was glad she shut him off or not. Warm and fuzzy empathy isn’t really in my wheelhouse, so I stay far away from such situations. I’d probably be useless anyway.
    When Mark re-entered the second-floor apartment, Don was sitting on the beam waiting.
    He wasn’t in the mood for any jokes, not even Don’s. His emotional state was unexpected. Blood wasn’t an issue for him. He’d seen plenty of it and patched up wounds that would make a trauma nurse cringe. So what had shaken him about a small puncture wound? The answer didn’t please him. Mark was a man, and everything in him wanted her . That was a physical reaction that could easily be explained. That, however, didn’t explain why he’d felt a punch in his gut when he felt the blood on his hand or why he felt the need to hold her while she cried.
    Mark didn’t wear his emotions on his sleeve for people to see, but he knew it would be different with Don. For better or worse neither of them could bullshit the other. He had no choice but to prepare himself for some of Don’s harassing, and by the look on his face, it wasn’t going to be long before it started.
    “Heard some screaming down there. I was almost tempted to see if you needed my help.”
    And it begins. “Thought you’d have that beam up by now.”
    “Are you kidding me? You expected me to work while you were downstairs having all the fun?”
    “She was hurt. I was just making sure she was okay.”
    Don laughed. “If I hadn’t come in when I did there wouldn’t be any work getting done in this place. Don’t blame you. She’s easy on the eyes and the way she was looking at you . . . Damn. It was like you were one sweet tasty dessert, and she was hungry.” The way she was looking at me?
    Mark normally could laugh at such things but something was different. Hannah wasn’t the type of woman to make lewd comments about.
    “Leave it alone, Don.”
    Of course, Don didn’t listen. He never did. He enjoyed pushing Mark’s buttons, which usually didn’t get him very far. It took a lot to get a reaction out of him. Mark knew it was more about what was going on inside him than anything Don was saying. At least,