Page 33 of Revealing Mark

“What’s going on?” This time I didn’t stop myself from touching my hand to his arm.

My concerned eyes searched his.

“I can’t talk about it.” It came out as a whisper.

He looked like he was in pain. I couldn’t explain why, but I moved to wrap my arms around him and hug him.

“That’s okay.”

He didn’t move, and I held him. For a few minutes I continued to hold him, unable to release him. It should have felt awkward but it didn’t. I couldn’t explain it. Then I slowly I slackened my hold, dropping my arms before I stepped away. He watched me with a look I couldn’t decipher.

The milk began to boil over and I turned my attention to pulling it off the stove.I swore when I burned my hand against the side. Tears of pain sprang into my eyes and I held my hand to my chest. Mark took control and pulled me to the sink where he ran cold water over my hand. I hissed when the water made contact with my burn. I was so accident-prone.

For a while I stayed there, watching the water stream over my hand. Mark’s hand held my wrist firmly and it felt like my skin pulsed differently under his touch. It was hypnotic.

“I’m fine,” I said, pulling my hand back to survey my burn. It wasn’t too big but the skin was still red and sore.

“Let me put something on it. I’ve got some stuff that’ll help.”

He left and I waited for him, admonishing myself for being so wrapped up in him and how he made me feel that I hadn’t been paying attention.

It wasn’t long before he returned with a tube of medication to help ease the pain.

“This might hurt.”

With a gentleness I’d never seen him possess before, he carefully covered the burn along the side of my hand with the soothing cream. He slowly massaged it in.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, feeling my brain scatter, and all I could do was feel the touch of his fingers against my skin.

“You really need to find someone to take care of you,” he murmured while he finished rubbing the cream onto the burn.

His words made something in me bristle and I firmly pulledmy hand back, cradling it against my chest. “I can take care of myself.”

He sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know exactly what you meant.” I straightened my back. My feelings were hurt and nothing he was going to say was going to change that.

“Tracy,” he said, but I shook my head.

“I can’t look after myself so I need a guy to be able to do that,” I stated with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to dare to confirm my accusation.

“There is nothing wrong with having someone to look out for you.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Having someone doesn’t make you incapable. Just look at your brother and Sarah.”

I’d never thought of it that way. I frowned. “Then why don’t you have someone?”

If his advice was good enough for me, why wasn’t he following it?

“Some people need more than others,” he answered cryptically.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m needy?” Was I being overly sensitive?

He shook his head. “No, you’ve got it all wrong.” He let out a heavy breath. “Let me put it this way. You want someone in your life to share things with, don’t you?”

I nodded. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“I don’t.”

My happy, clear-cut, cupid mind couldn’t process what he was saying.