Page 24 of Loan Wolf (Green Valley Shifters: Generations #1)

24

CLARA

C lara felt stupid long before she opened her eyes.

Great.

Drink too much, get a hangover, fight with your mom, go for a careless bike ride, and break a limb taking a tumble.

That’s the perfect way to prove that you’ve got everything under control.

“Clara?”

Gabe was there. Clara had no idea how he’d gotten there, but his voice was worried, and his hands touched her face very gently.

She was both relieved and disappointed. He shouldn’t see her this stupid. But his fingers felt so nice . She’d heard a crunch when she landed, but she thought now that it sounded more like a phone, not a bone.

“Clara, angel, can you open your eyes?”

“I’m fine,” Clara said, even though she still wasn’t entirely sure. “Just…dumb.”

She could feel Gabe doing a clinical inspection of her whole body. “Nothing’s broken but my phone and my pride,” she insisted, and she wiggled her toes and fingers to make sure as she finally opened her eyes.

She blinked.

“Why aren’t you wearing any clothes?” Maybe she was delusional? Clara didn’t think she’d hit her head, but nonsensically enough, Gabe was stark naked.

“Why aren’t you wearing a helmet ?” Gabe countered furiously.

Clara winced. “I had a fight with my mom and left without grabbing it.” She struggled to sit up and Gabe frowned and helped her.

From a sitting position, Clara could see that she was a little scuffed up and pretty bloody, but frankly lucky it wasn’t worse. There was a raw rash on the side of one knee, and when she twisted her arms, she could see that her elbow had gotten skinned, too. She tested the range of her wrists and ankles. Nothing was sprained, though it would shock her not to find plenty of scrapes and bruises later. There was a soreness to her left shoulder that she thought she could work out if she was diligent.

“I’ve fallen down before,” she said, shrugging. “I’m fine.” Twiller would say otherwise, given the unsightly road rashes she was sporting.

“You’re fucking lucky !” Gabe snarled. “That could have killed you. I told you not to do that trail on your own. It’s a buddy ride for an expert , you fluff-headed idiot! ”

Then, to Clara’s shock, he gathered her into his arms for an embrace that was surprisingly platonic for being stark naked. He was trembling.

She’d scared him.

He cared.

His unexpected vulnerability alarmed Clara more than the fall had. They weren’t supposed to get close. This wasn’t supposed to be a relationship. She was waiting for her mate; this was just a brief, naughty sidetrack in the plodding plotline of her life.

“Why are you naked?” she asked again, more firmly. Was he a shifter? Was she his mate after all? It was so unfair that she didn’t know .

“I was going skinny dipping since we didn’t have a chance last night,” Gabe said with a shrug. He let go and leaned away from her. He seemed entirely comfortable about being nude. “It’s a hundred degrees out and you’re lucky that I decided to do that because I was close enough to hear you skid down the bluff like a fucking moron. Can you stand up?”

“Yeah. Probably.”

Gabe half-lifted her onto her feet and Clara was relieved to find that nothing hurt more than it ought to. She’d sprained her ankles enough times to know what that felt like. “I’m okay,” she assured him, taking a test stride. She patted her pocket and drew out her phone. The screen was shattered and black, and didn’t respond to her attempts to turn it on. “Well, that’s toast.”

Gabe seemed to realize he was hovering and he drew his hands back, making a motion like he would put them in his pockets if he had them. “Come on, I’ll drive you back to my house and get you cleaned up before your ice-faced dancing instructor can chew you out.”

“What about Daisy?” Clara suddenly realized. The bike had fallen clear of her, which was probably good, because landing on a handlebar or pedal would have made everything worse. She’d squashed a small bush that had cushioned most of her impact, but Daisy was not so lucky.

Gabe, still distractingly naked, strode over and tipped her upright. “The body’s fine, the tire’s bent. Some of the paint is scuffed. She’ll ride again with a little work.” The chain had fallen off the gears, and the front tire squealed when Gabe tried to push it, so he picked it up and slung it onto his shoulder like it weighed nothing and took off down the trail.

Clara followed numbly, aware that she was probably still in some shock. The view was a fine distraction, at least, Gabe’s fine, firm butt cheeks working in front of her, his tattoos rippling with the effort of carrying the bike.

Poor Daisy.

Clara felt more stupid the further they went, and she found new pain in her hips and neck by the time they arrived at his truck, which was parked haphazardly in the middle of the pullout. The pond sparkled on the far side of the lot, the water still and inviting. Insects droned, and the sound of the highway was a distant hum.

“Don’t you want to get your clothes from the shore?” Clara said cautiously as Gabe hefted Daisy into the back of the truck, strapped her down, and went around to the driver’s side without offering to open the door for her.

“It’s not far to my house,” Gabe said coolly. “I figure you don’t want to wait around and see if anyone else comes and catches you before you can clean yourself up.”

Clara didn’t, and she didn’t want to risk infection by washing off in pond water.

She swung up into the passenger seat, hissing at the heat of the vinyl beneath her. At least she had shorts on; Gabe gave an involuntary yelp when he sat down and he shot up and pulled one of the bike blankets from the back seat to put under him, swearing all the while. He flipped the end up of over his lap, to Clara’s mixed relief.

As promised, the drive was short, bumpy, and uncomfortable. Gabe said nothing, and Clara didn’t feel like making conversation. If anyone that they passed noticed that Gabe was naked, they didn’t indicate it, and he pulled up in the alley behind a tiny farmhouse in a quiet neighborhood that was vaguely familiar.

The back door was unlocked and Gabe ushered her in and pointed out the bathroom. “There’s shampoo and conditioner. Probably nothing flowery like you’re used to. Hydrogen peroxide is under the sink. I’ll get you a clean towel.”

He was weirdly distant and disappeared into the house without waiting for Clara’s reply.

It wasn’t until she had turned on the water in the shower and was gingerly undressing that she wondered why Gabe wasn’t wet if he’d been skinny dipping, and how he’d heard her out-of-control skid, as far as he’d parked from where she fell.