He was an idiot for driving in this weather, and now he had the broken leg to prove it. Probably. Maybe just his kneecap was smashed.
Pete flexed his leg just a bit to see and realized that while it was sore, it probably wasn’t broken. Definitely sprained. Not his best moment.
“Can you walk?”
His eyes met her chocolate brown ones, and he felt like someone had punched him in the gut. A man needed to be prepared before being caught off guard that way.
“Uh, yeah.” He tested his leg and winced. “No.”
It was hard to be sexy when he felt as shaken up as he did after the crash. There was something wet on his head and he reached up to see what it was. His fingers were red.
“Yes, you hit your head,” his angel said. “But I don’t think it’s too bad. Head wounds always bleed a bit more.”
“Right,” he nodded, grateful for the support of the car behind him.
“Since you can’t walk, I’m going to improvise,” she said and glanced behind her.
That’s when he noticed the horses peering over at them curiously from the other side of the fence. They pricked their ears forward, heads stretched out through the swirling snow.
“Can you lean on me?”
She moved closer, and he caught a whiff of her floral scent. Swallowing at the warm way it filled his belly, he nodded. Her arm snaked around his waist, all business, as she hugged him. His arm circled her shoulders, almost automatically. He couldn’t help noticing how naturally she fit against him.
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