The moonlight allowed Sugar to assess the man’s injuries properly. A fresh slit glistened and dribbled blood on his nose. A nasty bruise stained his swollen left eye. Another equally cruel bruise marred his right cheek.

“It looks worse than it actually is,” he said in a grumbly tone but with an edge of humor that caught her off-guard. His accent, a rich baritone with a deep southern drawl, had an unfamiliar but rich depth she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Let me call an ambulance.” Her shaky hands reached into her purse, searching for her cell.

She froze when she heard his voice again.

He gave her a strained “no” while he struggled to pick himself up. She wanted to help him, but he seemed like the kind of man who fought his own battles, and she didn’t want to interfere.

His heavily tattooed arm curled around his torso as he leaned over in pain. “No need for that.”

“But you’re injured,” Sugar said, concern oozing from her words. “You should really get some help.”

“I’ll be fine.” He lifted his head to peer at her, his eyes nailing her to the spot, while a smile spread across his busted lips. “Truly, sugar.”

Sugar lost her ability to speak as the man called her a term of endearment, without knowing it was her name. A tingly warmth vibrated through her body from it, goosebumps prickling her skin.

“Um, I can’t just let you walk off without offering you some ice or something. My conscience won’t allow it,” Sugar finally spoke, pointing to her building. “My restaurant is right there, so you don’t have to go too far.”

“I appreciate the offer, bu—”

She swiftly interrupted him. “I wasn’t giving an option.”

An expression mixed between surprise and intrigue splashed onto his features. He hiked an eyebrow at her before his close-mouthed smile inched wider.

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” she replied firmly with a nod as she went to him and grabbed his other tattooed arm, draping it across her shoulder. She aided him carefully across the parking lot and towards the entrance door.

Along the way, he said, “You’re goin’ to get my blood on your dress.”

She wore a knee-length, deep red wine-hued dress with broad straps and a V-neckline. Four-inch silvery pumps adored her feet, which matched the silver belt around her waist. She styled her long hair into a bun at the back of her head.

“A perfect excuse to buy another dress,” Sugar returned playfully.

He chuckled a low, throaty note.

When they reached the entrance door, she used her keys to unlock it and led him inside. She guided him through the lobby and into the dining area, helping him move toward the closest table.

She turned on a light switch, bringing the overhead lightbulbs to life.

“I’ll be right back,” Sugar said to him once he was seated before she rushed into the kitchen.

A painfully bright light flooded the sterile room after she flipped a switch.

She winced at the light, her eyes adjusting to the harshness while she traveled around the kitchen gathering various things to help the man.

“Sully is going to kill me if he knew I was doing this,” she whispered, panic knifing through her. “What if this guy’s a damn serial killer?”

She paused at her task momentarily and took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “Don’t judge, Sugar. At least not right now.”

At a sink, she found a clean kitchen towel and dampened it. She hunted down a resealable plastic bag and scooped ice into it. She also retrieved a first aid kit from the kitchen.

Returning to the dining area, Sugar handed the man the ice bag before placing the first aid kit on the table.

“Thanks.” He nodded, immediately laying it on his ribs.

She draped her fingers in the wettened towel, arching an eyebrow. “Do you mind if I clean your face?”

He cocked an eyebrow right back, grinning. “I thought you were callin’ the shots, sugar.”

“I guess you’re right,” she agreed with a subtle smile as she closed in on him.

She used her index finger from her spare hand and rested it underneath his salt-and-pepper bearded chin, navigating his head to angle upward so she could get a better look at his face.

The grayest gaze bored into her brown ones boldly. The tiny laugh lines at the corners of the man’s eyes crinkled a little as a telltale sign he found this unfolding situation amusing.

Sugar cleared her throat nervously and refocused on cleaning the gash on his nose. With her fingers trapped inside the towel, she gently dabbed and wiped at the bleeding cut.

“Do you have any blood-borne diseases I should know about?” she asked a little too late.

“No,” he said truthfully, “just hot-blooded.”

“Indeed,” she muttered under her breath, but luckily, he didn’t hear, or maybe he had pretended not to.

Even banged up, she could tell the man was hot-blooded and just plain hot.

The latter was a fact that made it rather difficult for her to concentrate.

“You know,” she cleared her throat, “you’re faring quite well for someone who looks like they got into a fight with a semi-truck and lost.”

“Well, it’s not every day an old bastard such as myself gets patched up by a beautiful woman,” the man replied, which caused Sugar to snort with a laugh.

Sugar shook her head as her laugh faded into light giggles.

“You, sir, are quite the charmer,” she told him with a smile as she continued to clean his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a beaten man call me beautiful before.”

“There’s a first time for everythin’,” he returned, matching her smile with his own. “I can’t deny that I’m a man that enjoys being the first.”

She teased, “That sounds rather selfish.”

“Oh, I’m very selfish,” he guaranteed.

Her heart quickened in pace at the promise while her brain raced with theories as to what exactly his selfishness entailed.

“Are you?” he then pondered.

Sugar blinked as his question jerked her from her thoughts. “Hm? Am I what?”

“Are you selfish?”

She laughed a little, shaking her head.

“Not even a little?” he probed.

She shook her head once more. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes.”

A moment of silence drifted between them.

“Soon or later, you’ve got to take off those shoes, you know,” he replied.

After cleaning up his face, she opened the first aid kit and got a bandaid for his nose.

“Maybe, I don’t want to take off my shoes,” Sugar said as she carefully placed the bandaid across the open cut on the bridge of his nose.

“You don’t want to or you’re too scared to?”

Sugar froze as the weight of his question hit her hard. It was too intimate, and her answer would be too telling for a stranger.

She cleared her throat.

“I’m done,” she said as she stepped back, feeling uncomfortable in her own skin.

He eyed her carefully but didn’t probe or push the matter further, which she was thankful for.

“I’ll call you a taxi,” she offered as she reached for her cell.

“It’s alright,” he replied as he rose from his spot, wincing as he did it.

He still had the bag of ice against his ribs.

Sugar was curious and worried about what damage lay underneath his shirt. She wanted to lift it up to see what he was hiding. Was it bruises, wounds, or just more tattoos? All the above?

After a beat, she decided it wasn’t her place to know.

“Thanks for showin’ an old bastard like me some kindness,” he said.

She smiled weakly. “It was no problem at all.”

“But be careful who you show kindness to, though,” he said, “because they just might keep comin’ back for more.”

Her breath hitched in her throat at his words.

“I’ll keep that...in mind,” she replied.

His gray eyes scanned her from head to toe, as if he purposefully committed every inch of her to his memory.

“I won’t be a bother to you any longer,” the man stated, turning to leave.

It took every ounce of her will to keep herself from saying something else to him. She stood still like a statue as he walked towards the lobby with a modest limp and out the entrance door.

Sugar exhaled a quivery breath and sat at the table with a racing heart and jittery nerves.

A familiar feeling she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“What in the hell was that?” she asked herself.

Her cell then chirped and vibrated on the table as she received an incoming text message. She bit down on her bottom lip as she grabbed the device and looked at the message she had received.

Sugar groaned inwardly, rolling her eyes.

Sully: ur ass better b home. >:{ 

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