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CHARLEE

Licking my lips, I reached out further to soften the wings of the butterfly on the backdrop I’d been painting. Leaning a bit more to the left on the ladder, despite being told to be careful, I wobbled a bit. Adding in tiny details no one would ever see hardly mattered. Shading on one butterfly. Specks of contrasting color on wings. I was the theater professor, not one of the set crew, but it made me so happy. The spring production was my biggest project every year at the Ranch. This would be the first year it would be held in the theater in the new wing of the University, which had me feeling a bit more stressed than usual. Painting zoned me out and put me into a relaxing space. Balancing precariously, I lost my footing. So much for being careful. Flailing my arms in a flapping fashion, as if my body would take flight, though I knew it wouldn’t, didn’t do anything. Nope, I was still falling toward the wooden stage.

“Charlee!”

Someone shouted as I toppled, ladder, brushes, paint and all in what I hoped looked at least a tiny bit artistic as I fell.

“Oof!” My landing was softer than I’d imagined. Slowly opening my eyes, I found myself drowning in two deep mahogany irises, warm and intense. Pierce Harding happened to be the man I was splayed across. What the hell was he doing in the theater this late? Shit. Paint was splattered in his hair, on his shirt, across his cargo pants. Worse than that, my embarrassing moment had been witnessed by my crush! If that wasn’t mortifying enough, I remembered his warnings.

A huge knot formed in my belly. Pierce had been telling me for weeks to be careful. Not to operate anything dangerous or climb ladders without someone else nearby. Anything with a step, not limited to the stairs in back of the stage, apparently had it out for me. A week ago, I’d tripped over a step stool and smacked my chin against it. No, there was no logic to the way I injured myself. I’d fallen into the stool, sent it flying and then smacked into it. Clumsy feet paired with my lack of paying attention to my surroundings were to blame.

Pierce cupped my cheek. “Are you hurt, sweetheart?”

“I fell on you ! Are you sure you’re not hurt?” Taking stock of my body, I realized how badly my wrist throbbed. It didn’t feel broken but pain flared whenever I wiggled my fingers.

He patted my head as I laid there. “Yes, I’m fine, Charlee. Let me catch my breath. Stay here for a second.”

His husky tone shot straight to my core. We had been spending a lot more time together since he’d volunteered his time to assist with the spring production. Pierce had moved nearby a year or so ago when his boss Colton Reed accepted a full-time position at the Ranch. They designed and built kinky-minded furniture: adult cribs, highchairs, rocking chairs and so on. Pierce beamed whenever he talked about building dungeon essentials like a St. Andrew’s Cross or spanking bench. Crafting them brought him such joy, especially customized pieces.

Pressing my non-injured hand to the stage to get up, I was interrupted by Pierce. He halted the action, pulling me up higher and keeping me against him. His overall demeanor screamed “Daddy”. I tried not to let myself go down that road since we hadn’t delved into our specific wants or needs regarding any type of power-exchange dynamic. But he had made it clear his preferences were to be the Dominant in every equation. I hadn’t opened up as easily. Not given him any indication that I was submissive—at least not verbally. Regardless, Pierce was observant. He could see the signs whenever I let down my guard and showed him.

“I’m crushing on you,” I snapped. Mortification burned my face. “Crushing you. Not on you.”

Smooth move, Charlee. Tell the handsome man pinned underneath you the secret you’ve been keeping for months.

Pierce blinked once, as if gathering his thoughts to reply in a way that didn’t have me moving around. “You’re not hurting me, darling. You need to get evaluated after a fall from that height.”

“It’s a small ladder, Pierce,” I said, grumbling as I rolled off him. He allowed the movement, probably because he didn’t want to cause me pain if I was injured.

“Don’t argue with me, Charlee. One of us needs to fill out an incident report.”

“It was nothing. You should probably get checked out though. Make sure I didn’t crack one of your ribs.”

Warning: dangerous curves ahead.

My friends used to joke but not lightheartedly . I’d been heavier than my friends throughout my life. No matter how healthy my food choices were or how much I worked out, I stayed pretty thick in all the places that mattered. I let the rhetoric live in my head that I wasn’t chosen by attractive men. I’d never be prioritized. I certainly wouldn’t find the relationship of my dreams.

Not in this lifetime.

What the hell was with my self-deprecating statement? I wasn’t a small person in shape or height but Pierce was over six feet tall. He had muscles for days, and I admired his sculpted thighs. Ones I dreamed about being held across. Heat flamed my face even as I glared. It was not the time to start tossing such nonsense at him.

“Care to say that again, sweetheart? Go on and explain what you meant.”

We both stood up, my chest heaving as I tried to calm my racing heart. The truth was he turned me on. Often . It was annoying. Pierce wasn’t interested in me. How could he be? He was attractive in a movie-star heartthrob way. Conventionally attractive. Gorgeous smile, honey-brown eyes, hair the color of a dark whiskey. That he chose to spend time with me outside of work obligations should have sparked a clue. If Pierce didn’t consider me at least a friend he wouldn’t check on me, bring me water and snacks and agree to work in the spring production. Colton may have volunteered him without his approval for reasons unknown to me. But, Pierce didn’t seem to catch my drift. Why did my insecurities spiral through my brain while I stood there inches away from my crush?

“I’m heavier than you.” I gestured up and down the length of my body.

“Excuse me?” He cocked an eyebrow, his hands settling on either side of his hips.

“My body dropping onto yours must have been like a tree falling on you.”

Pierce glanced up at the ceiling of the theater as if gathering his thoughts. That was never a good sign. His jaw clenched and relaxed as he slowly lowered his head and locked his gaze on mine.

“We have had this discussion many times, Charlene Octavia. Since you seem to have forgotten it, I’ll be sure to find a more creative way to get it through your head. No more harsh comments about your weight.”

When he said my first and middle names from his perfect bow-shaped lips in that growly husky tone, I lost my mind. Worse than the way my body reacted, all flustered and sweaty, my heart beamed. A mild crush–my ass. My feelings were bigger. I had a full-blown obsession with him. Wondering often about what it would be like to be in a dynamic with the most attractive man I’d ever met. Not that I’d ever tell him that!

“Don’t you start with me, Pierce. I’m not interested in your lesson.” I dipped my words in sass, tossing them his way. It was my go-to defense mechanism whenever anyone got too close to me. Besides, he had no fire power. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he studied my posture. His authoritative gaze caused wetness to seep into my panties, arousing me more. My calm flew out the window. Maybe it had been perched on the ladder when I toppled it.

“Come on, darling. We need to get you looked at. I’ll have someone clean up this mess.”

“I’ll take care of it myself,” I said, turning around to survey the damage. I’d remembered earlier to put tarps down. Smart move. It’d make it easier to clean up the aftermath and not permanently damage the wood.

“You most certainly will not,” he said with authority.

Turning on my heel, I pointed my finger at him. I couldn’t hide the wince of pain as I gestured. “You can’t tell me what to do!”

“I apologize. No, I can’t order you around, but your wrist is swollen. You need an x-ray to make sure you didn’t break it.”

He was right but I didn’t dare admit that out loud. “I’m not going to a hospital. I hate them with the passion of a thousand… fireflies.”

My absurd statement drew a chuckle but his eyes remained stern. “Regardless, you’re in pain. It’s written all over your face. Let’s go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, but I’ll stop by Master Derek’s office when it’s daylight and report it. Deal?”

Pierce crossed his arms over his chest and his eyes sparkled with mirth. “Oh, yeah? How’s that going to fare for you when you tell him you fell off a ladder and neglected to seek medical attention?”

Biting my lip, I stared up into his handsome face. Shit. I hadn’t thought that through at all. Master Derek took safety very seriously. If I didn’t provide some sort of document that I had been checked out by a medical professional, he’d take me there himself. Afterward, well, I didn’t want to think about that. Not a better option. Staring for longer than appropriate I realized I was backed into a corner. I didn’t like corners at the best of times. No . Not going tonight wouldn’t make me feel any better.

“You’re so bossy, Pierce. Why were you even sneaking around the theater this late?”

“I’m not bossy, and I’m not entertaining your snarky question. Answer mine. What would Master Derek say after you show up at his office door and ask for an incident report? Be honest, Charlee.”

“Nothing good. My reckless decision, not getting checked out? That would make him upset. He’d feel the need to take me to the clinic himself and even if I got a clean bill of health? Well, I’d be lucky if all he gave me was a lecture because I should have taken my safety more seriously.” Sighing, I accepted the fact I didn’t have much choice. Sure, I could forgo the exam but it was going to happen one way or the other. I might as well allow Pierce to take me. The thought didn’t move to compliance.

“Mmmm. Then what’s it going to be?”

“Fine. I’ll go but…” Tears sprang to my eyes and I wiped them away with the back of my hand, forgetting how much it ached. I dropped it to my side, annoyed.

Pierce produced a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed my tears. “I’ll stay with you. If you’d like me to, that is. Nothing will happen without your consent.”

“Yes, please stay with me. I really hate medical places. The doctors never seem to listen.”

“I’m not fond of any sort of medical place either. But it shouldn’t take long.” Pierce stepped back. “They’ll check your vitals. Your wrist will take a quick selfie with a fancy machine. As long as it’s just a sprain you’ll likely be told to ice it, maybe wear an ace bandage and take some pain medication.”

“Okay, okay,” I agreed.

“Good. Let me text Colt. He’ll have this place cleaned up before we get back.”

“Thanks, Pierce,” I said sincerely though I wasn’t looking forward to the visit. He nodded and gave me a thumbs up.

“No problem, Charlee.” He took his phone out of his pocket as he led us out of the theater. I admired the way his jeans pulled on his thighs; the motion gave me something else to focus on.

Pierce

Leading Charlee into the new urgent care unit that had been constructed on Rawhide Ridge, we stepped up to the registration desk to speak to the receptionist. “Good evening, Hazel.”

Hazel looked up, her long ponytail swinging as she looked between me and Charlie. Despite the late hour, her smile was warm and welcoming.

“Hi, Pierce. I’d say it’s nice to see you, but given that you walked into a clinic, I’m thinking it wasn’t just to chat. How can we help you tonight?”

“You’re right. This is my friend Charlee. She teaches over at the University in the theater department and took a tumble off a ladder,” I explained patiently. “Her wrist is a bit swollen.”

“Oh no!” The sweet woman shook her head. “You poor thing,” she said to Charlee. “I’ll grab you some ice. There’s no wait right now. We’ll get you into a room and get you comfortable.”

Charlee tensed as if there was no way going into an examination room would bring her any comfort. She cradled her injured wrist to her body and the tears started again. “I’m sorry. I really don’t love being here.”

“It’s okay, Charlee,” Hazel soothed. “We will do our best for you to be seen and leave as quickly as possible. Please follow me.”

Wrapping an arm around Charlee’s shoulders, I pulled her gently to my side. She looked up at me, her huge blue-gray eyes watery. “I’m right here, sweetheart.”

“I appreciate you,” Charlee mumbled as she leaned against me. At this distance I caught a whiff of her floral jasmine-scented perfume mixed with the paint she’d been using. The way she sagged against my body made me want to protect her from the world. We had been friends since we met though I didn’t know if she was seeking a relationship. We flirted and bantered as easily as we breathed. I cared about her deeply, but my heart was guarded. Having a girlfriend hadn’t been in my current cards. So it came as a bit of a surprise when my thoughts shifted from the belief that entertaining a dynamic wasn’t even in my realm of possibility, to considering Charlee seemed to be submissive. Though other than my gut instinct, I had nothing solid to base my assumption on.

Hazel led us across the lobby and toward a hallway. “Have you ever met Nurse Cain?”

I wasn’t surprised to see Charlee shake her head. If I were a betting man, I’d wager she attempted to avoid anyone having to do with medical issues. But that didn’t mean I didn’t recognize the name. “Yes, both she and Nurse MacIntosh work over at the Ranch’s infirmary.”

“That’s right,” Hazel said brightly as if I’d won some sort of prize. “We’re lucky enough to have Nurse Cain working with us until we get more staffing.” She turned her attention to Charlee and gestured down the hallway. “Third room on your left,” she said sweetly.

“Thank you.” I ushered Charlee inside, helping her to sit on the table.

A nurse I recognized from the Ranch walked in moments later. “Hi! I’m Nurse Cain. I heard you fell on your wrist.” She handed an ice pack wrapped in a towel to Charlee.

“Hi, I’m Charlee. Thanks for the ice. I hurt my right wrist.”

“Hello, Charlee. The doctor will be in soon. Let me grab a few numbers.” She tasked herself with taking Charlee’s blood pressure, pulse oxygen via a small gray probe on the tip of one of her fingers and temperature via a temporal thermometer that scanned her forehead.

“Will I ever be able to play the piano again?” Charlee mused but her features were tight with worry.

Her attempt at humor wasn’t lost on me. I rubbed her back as I stood next to her.

The nurse grinned. “Can you play the piano now?” she asked, going along with the game.

“Nope. Not even one key,” replied Charlee sweetly.

“Then you might want to wait until your angry wrist feels better, sweetie.”

“Good point! It would probably be better to learn with two hands.”

The three of us shared a laugh as the nurse waved and exited. The doctor, I presumed, walked in almost behind her, warmly greeting us. I was thankful for their professional courtesy.

“I’m Dr. Quincy Nelson,” he washed his hands before snapping on a pair of purple gloves. “What brings you here tonight?”

“Decided I was bored and took a trip off a ladder,” Charlee said softly.

“Oh my! Next time you’re bored maybe you should try a jigsaw puzzle. Or a crossword instead?”

“That would be less dramatic. I am the theater goddess extraordinaire.” She gave a small smile.

“Aha! So, the ladder was acting? Not very nicely I’d say.” He gestured toward her hands. “How did you land?”

“I actually landed on top of Pierce,” she said, gesturing at me with her chin.

“Smart. He looks like a good cushion.” Dr. Nelson winked. “I see you holding your right wrist. Does it hurt?”

“Yeah. It’s throbbing and whenever I wiggle my fingers it’s worse.”

“Can you hold your hands out toward me?” He rotated each wrist very gently. “Please squeeze my fingers.”

She followed his command, relaxing a little as I continued to gently rub her shoulders and back. The soothing gesture was for me as much as for her. “You’re being very good, sweetheart,” I whispered against her ear.

Charlee glanced up at me, adoration filling her eyes. That was a good sign. Hopefully her wrist wasn’t injured too badly.

“I’m trying to be,” she mouthed.

“Hmmm. Your wrist does appear swollen. Have you ever had an x-ray?” Dr. Nelson asked matter-of-factly.

“Not in a long time, but yes, I’ve had them before,” she answered.

“All right. The room is just a few doors down. Your landing pad has to stay here while we take a few films. Would you like me to help you?”

“Yes, please.” Charlee glanced at me, apprehension creasing her eyebrows.

“I’ll be right here. Tomorrow we’ll go out to that bakery you love in Porter’s Corner. Does that sound good?” I asked.

Her face brightened. “Yes, please.”

Dr. Nelson gave her his hand and helped her off the table. He gave me a thumbs up before leading Charlee out.

Watching her shuffle out of the room with the doctor brought my mind into a terrible flashback. Sweating, I jabbed my fingers into my hair trying to stifle the emotions flooding through me. I didn’t talk openly about why I hated medical places. What had Charlee said? She hated them with the passion of a thousand fireflies. I hated them with a deep burning sense of something I couldn’t name. When I brought Charlee to the bakery I might tell her why I hadn’t sought either a relationship or a submissive in years. My heart hadn’t been ready to face the emotional commitment.

Abigail Hale, a friend of mine from high school, had wanted to experience a real BDSM dynamic. A once-in-a-lifetime trip to Rawhide. Experience having a Daddy Dom of her own. All before the illness ransacking her body stole her life away. I’d agreed without hesitation, wanting to make Abigail’s last memories wonderful. And they had been. Until they weren’t.

It had been an intense two months. I’d accompanied her to places I never thought I’d go. Doctor’s visits while the staff delivered an updated prognosis. Hospice planning. It wasn’t pretty. And yet, try as I might, I couldn’t stop myself from falling in love with my friend. I knew her time on earth was limited, but my heart didn’t get the message. Her positive outlook and shiny disposition brightened her darkest days and mine.

I missed her terribly. She left an ache in my heart that I wasn’t sure could be soothed. My sweet, sunshine-filled Little girl. I could still hear her laughter at the smallest things. A pretty butterfly. A funny bird. I took a deep breath and let it out. I had to be strong for Charlee. It was a wrist injury. Nothing too serious. Even a break didn’t warrant my reaction. Anxiety didn’t care.

Pull it together, Pierce.

Chiding myself did nothing but irritate me as I paced the length of the room.

Dr. Nelson poked his head into the room. “Are you all right?”

Clearing my throat, I nodded. “I’m not a big fan of medical facilities. I’ll be fine.”

“I used to dislike them. Well, years before I became a doctor. White coat anxiety is something many people face under the best of circumstances.”

“Thank you for acknowledging that. I’m good now,” I said as the pit in my stomach eased. “How’s Charlee?”

“She’s much better. Just out in the waiting room wearing a brand-new soft splint,” he said calmly.

But he seemed to read into my posture as he studied me. Giving me room to talk about the pinching anxiety that had eased but not disappeared. It was likely showing on my features.

“Good,” I said, letting out a sigh of relief. Charlee didn’t need anything sidelining her from the spring production. “No broken bones?”

“No, nothing is broken. I’m sure Charlee will tell you all about what she needs to do to take care of herself. If she was listening that is.” Dr. Nelson gave me a knowing look.

“I’ll make sure she follows your instructions. Thank you for being gentle with her.”

“Of course. Would you like a copy of the suggested plan? I don’t want to assume, but Charlee seemed really upset before. I’m happy to share the standard practice in case she didn’t hear everything I said.”