Three Sasha desperately needed to reach her own front door unaided, if only to assert her independence, but after the first few steps she grudgingly accepted Jake’s help. This had definitely not been one of her better days. Awkwardly, she dug out her keys. He took them from her uninjured hand. “It’s the key with the fingernail polish,” she told him. Independence could wait another few minutes. Without releasing her, he managed to unlock the front door. “Want me to carry you over the threshold?” Her look said it all. Over my dead body. Sprained, splintered and disheveled didn’t count. Once inside, he steered her toward the three-cushion sofa. “First, let’s get you elevated. Then if you’ll point me to the kitchen, I’ll make you an ice pack.” “How do you know what I need?” This time it was his look that said it all. “Trust me, I’ve seen a sprain or two. Underneath that bandage you’re probably already turning purple.” Sasha wanted to tell him to take his sympathy and his barbecue plate and go back to wherever he came from, because she didn’t need him.
What do You think about Her Fifth Husband? (2005)?
