Oh! He’s so sanctimonious and infuriating! “Fine! If you have some sort of macho need to see this through to the gruesome finish, you can take me home, but for the love of God, take me out the back door so I’m not any more of a public spectacle.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Mac scooped her up and gave her a moment to get her injured arm and leg settled. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, releasing a long deep breath.

While she once again hid her face against his faded yellow T-shirt, he carried her through the lobby and out the back door. He smelled of sporty deodorant and laundry detergent, and his steady heartbeat echoed in her ear. Too bad he was a McCarthy. Otherwise, she might be tempted to forget about her no-men-ever-again policy.

Maddie directed him through a series of pathways behind the buildings that made up downtown Gansett.

“I used to play cops and robbers with my brothers back here.”

“I used to drag trash bags heavier than I was to the Dumpsters when my mother worked at these places.” She let her gaze travel up over the strong column of his neck to focus on his jaw, which seemed tense. Maddie wondered what it would be like to trail her lips along his whisker-sprinkled jaw. . .

He glanced down to catch her studying him. “What?”

Her cheeks heated with embarrassment. “Nothing.” After a long pause, she said, “Your leg has to be hurting. Why don’t you put me down? I can walk.” He surprised her when he did as she asked. The sudden weight on her injured knee sent pain shooting through her, and she cried out from the shock of it.

“Have we proven that you could use a lift?”

A surge of nausea took her breath away. “Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, surprising her again with the tender gesture. “I’m really sorry this happened.”

Maddie ventured a glance up at him and swallowed hard, taken aback by his intense gaze. “I know you are.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to. It was an accident.”

“An accident that was my fault.” He lifted her carefully and once again gave her a minute to settle her injured limbs before continuing on.

Maddie directed him to her apartment over Tiffany’s studio.

“Isn’t this the Sturgil place?” Mac asked.

She nodded. “My sister Tiffany is married to Jim Sturgil.” As they reached the foot of her stairs, Maddie realized that her purse was still attached to the wrecked bike. “My bag! I never got it off the bike. My wallet, keys—”

“Take it easy.” He carried her up the stairs to her door. “I’ll track it down for you.”