When Kat heard the sound of something hitting the ground, she covered her mouth in horror staring down at the strange looking hand.
It was a prosthetic, she suddenly realized.
The man she’d bumped into had apparently been injured not so long ago. Although the wound seemed to be cleanly healed, there was a reddish looking stub of a wrist at the end of his arm where his hand should have been.
Quickly scooping up the hand from the ground, all the while hoping that for his sake no one would notice, Kat attempted to slip it back inconspicuously over his arm. As she kept manipulating the hand and trying to shove the sleeve over his arm, she suddenly realized she hadn’t even apologized or looked at his face.
She was chewing on her lip and pulling at the rubber sleeve, trying to fit it back on his arm for like the umpteenth time, when she heard the rumblings of laughter that he was most obviously trying to contain.
“Can I give you a hand?” he asked in a rough sexy voice.
There was faint air of familiarity about that voice, but his words were filled with just the right amount of humor to distract her from what she was doing.
And think about what he’d just said.
She stilled. “A hand?” Looking down at the prosthetic she was holding, Kat suddenly snorted.
“A hand?” A giggle escaped and before long she was laughing out loud.
And so was he. But there was something about that laughter that was making her feel really nervous.
Kat was scared about what she was thinking. She was wishing so hard for it to be him, she was almost afraid to peek at his face.