He was cut by barbed wire. That was all. No threat. No taunting men. No crawling away to safety. He was in Lincoln’s truck, out in the open, being driven to get his cheek stitched up.
Red jumped out when they arrived, and regretted the move. His feet hitting the ground jarred him and made his face pound even harder.
Lincoln led him inside.
“What on earth happened?” Mercy asked when he came out of the kitchen, his eyes wide, wiping his hands on his apron. “Why’re you bleeding?”
“Lincoln slugged me for not doing the fence correctly,” Red said.
“I know that’s a lie,” Mercy said. “Your mate would never—” Mercy’s eyes grew wider as Lincoln let out a snarl.
“Don’t you have lunch to make?” Lincoln snapped.
“I think I hear my biscuits burning.” Mercy spun on his heel and took off.
“This way.”
Red followed Lincoln into the downstairs bathroom. He expected to be stuffed into the room with Lincoln considering how big the guy was, but the room was a nice size. Red took a seat on the toilet lid as Lincoln rummaged under the sink.
“You keep a stitching kit in your bathroom?”
“You never know what kind of injuries you’ll sustain on a ranch. A lot of my workers swear by their anonymity, just like you, so I’ve become a pro at being a cut-rate doctor.”
“Have you ever stitched anyone up before?” Red refused to look at Lincoln stringing a curved needle.
“I can do it in my sleep.” Lincoln turned toward him. “Hold your head back. This is gonna hurt like hell.”
Lincoln cleaned the wound, patted Red’s face dry, and came close with his needle.
Red jerked back.
“You can’t be moving like that,” Lincoln admonished. “I don’t want to do any more damage than has already been done. Now hold still.”
Red focused on the shower curtain as Lincoln pressed a warm, strong hand against his jaw. There were campers in various scenes on the curtain, little forest animals by the campfire.
“Take a deep breath.”
Red held his breath. Not only because Lincoln had told him to but because the guy’s rich, leathery smell was playing havoc with Red’s senses.
Lincoln grinned. “I said take a deep breath, not hold it. Let it out before you pass out.”
Red let his breath go, and Lincoln’s scent invaded his lungs as he breathed. He held steady, still focusing on the campers, then shouted when the needle pierced his skin.
“You want some whiskey to take the edge off?”
“No, I can do this.” His inhibition lowered was the last thing Red needed. He’d never been much of a drinker. His friends used to tease him and call him a lightweight.
His attention snapped back to the present when Lincoln stuck him again. Red gritted his teeth, wishing he had some Novocain. He was seconds away from passing out from the pain.
“It’s a jagged cut,” Lincoln said. “I’m gonna do my best to make a clean stitch. Don’t want to mar that pretty puss of yours.”
Red chanced a glance. The guy was focused hard, his brows knitted, his jaw clenched. “I’d hardly call my mug pretty.”
“I’ll have to beg to differ. Now stop talking.”
Red had never been this close to Lincoln before. He saw the soft lines around his eyes, the firm jaw covered by a low-trimmed beard and mustache.
And how his shirt hugged and caressed his muscles.
“Almost done.” Lincoln’s thumb traced Red’s jawline. “How you doing?”
Red frowned. “You just told me not to talk.”
Lincoln’s chuckle was deep and warm. “I guess I just contradicted myself.”
“My face hurts like hell,” Red said.
“I reckon it does.” Lincoln tied off the string and cut it. “Now for the really painful part.”
Red watched as Lincoln got the rubbing alcohol from the medicine cabinet. He poured a good amount on Red’s face, making Red scream his fool head off.
“Son of a bitch!” Red fanned his face as he jumped up and rocked forward. “I guess my modeling career is over.” He spun and crashed right into Lincoln.
Lincoln gripped Red’s upper arms. “Steady.”
“You just set my face on fire,” Red snapped. “I’m allowed to jump around like a lunatic.”
“Let me put a bandage on that so dirt or other stuff doesn’t get into the wound.”
Red felt like a yo-yo. He wanted to stay and let Lincoln touch him any way the guy wanted to, and he wanted to run from the crazy attraction he felt toward him.
He decided to stay and let Lincoln finish patching him up. “Do I look like Frankenstein’s monster?” Red touched the gauze and winced.
“I think your injury makes you look like a rogue pirate.” Lincoln winked as he put away the first aid kit. “You can tell any badass story to the others, and I won’t contradict you.”
“I’ll tell them that Rhinestone and I had a falling out and it turned into a duel.”
Lincoln laughed. “I think you should use another horse. Rhinestone doesn’t make your story seem tough enough.”
Red snorted. “Should I say I got my ass kicked by a horse named Ladybug?”
That made Lincoln laugh even harder, which made Red chuckle. It had been a long while since he’d laughed like that. It wasn’t much, just a chuckle, but damn it felt good to let his fears fall away, even for a moment.
“You need to take a break from work. I’ll get you some iced tea. Mercy makes the best.”
Red’s smile faded. He didn’t want to get to know Lincoln. Red wasn’t in a good place, and he didn’t need his boss getting involved in his mess. “I think I should just get back to work.”
What Red really wanted to do was go back to the bunkhouse and rest. His face was still throbbing, and he wanted to put distance between them.
That tangible attraction that clung in the air between them.
“I can’t let you work after you’ve injured yourself.” Lincoln waved for Red to leave the bathroom. “Take the rest of the day off and rest.”
Red wasn’t going to argue with those orders since it was exactly what he’d been thinking.
“Thanks.” Red pointed to his face. “For saving my ugly mug.”
What was one more scar? When it rained, Red’s thigh hurt like a bitch where he’d gotten stabbed, as did the two healed bullet holes in his chest.
At the rate he was going, Red truly would look like Frankenstein’s monster.
Lincoln touched Red’s cheek. “Ugly doesn’t describe you, Red. Warm bread with melted butter. Refreshing rain on a scorching day.”
Red had no clue what Lincoln was talking about. He gave a nervous chuckle as he walked toward the front door. “I’ll be ready to finish that fence first thing in the morning.”
“I’d feel better if you took someone with you.” Lincoln walked him to the door. “Have Jason help you.”
Red nodded and made a dash for it before he gave in to his desires and begged Lincoln to kiss him.
* * * *
Lincoln watched as Red drew closer to the backyard. His mate smiled at a few men and looked around, as if lost.