“Can you grab the other end of this?” I asked from inside the back of the moving truck, standing at one end of a dark brown couch.
We were almost done moving everything in. Ford and Dom had just carried in my king-size bed frame and mattress, which barely fit through the doorway. Once we got the couch inside, there were just a few more boxes. Then Sam and I would take a break—probably on this very couch—before we started unpacking.
“Let me and Dom carry this,” Ford said.
I shrugged and bent to pick my end up. “If I got it into the truck with Sam, I’m pretty sure I can get it into the house with you.”
He lowered his brows and shook his head. “I don’t want you to hurt your back.”
I knew he was being a gentleman, but I didn’t like being told I couldn’t do things because I was a woman. It was something I’d fought my own family over for years.
“Just pick it up and let’s go,” I said.
He looked unsure, but said, “At least let me be the one going backward.”
We switched places, my hand accidentally grazing over his sweaty, defined ab muscles, making my stomach somersault. I’d never been with a man with a body like his before.
I glanced at the couch, wishing I could be wrapped around Ford on it instead of carrying it with him. But at least I could enjoy the view. My new neighbor was clearly committed to his fitness routine.
“Ready?” he asked, bending down.
“Yep.”
We lifted it up, and I held in my groan. This thing was heavy. Sam and I had taken at least twenty breaks while loading it onto the truck, and we’d rested for five minutes afterward. I was not committed to a fitness routine. Every muscle in my body would be screaming at me tomorrow.
“You okay?” Ford asked as he walked down the ramp backward.
“Great,” I managed, my voice strained as I held onto the couch for dear life.
“Was that sarcasm?”
“Just go!” I panted with exertion from the twenty feet we’d gone so far.
“Need a break?”
“Can we not have a full conversation right now?”
He grinned, looking as comfortable as he would carrying a pillow instead of a massive leather couch. Meanwhile, sweat was pooling between my breasts, my bra and tank already soaked through.
“Hey Dom, grab the other end of this couch,” Ford said.
“No!” We were almost halfway there. I wasn’t quitting now. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” Dom said. “I mean, you do look fine if it’s like, damn, she’s fine, but not like I don’t need any help fine.”
“I will stab you,” I said, snapping. “Make another joke right now and I will stab you in the eye.”
Ford laughed as Dom put his hands up in mock surrender. “I wasn’t joking, Elle. But I get you. I’ll just walk beside you in case you need help. Silently.”
We’d reached the doorway, and Ford turned his end of the couch slightly, trying to fit it through the doorway.
“Shit,” he muttered. “I don’t think we’re gonna make it. Do those legs come off?”
“Yes.” I glanced at Dom. “Can you switch me and I’ll take the legs off?”
“You got it.”
He really was a nice guy, and he was helping me move when he could have been doing literally anything else. I felt bad for biting his head off.
“Sorry I threatened to stab you,” I said.
He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it.”
I went to the end of the couch Ford was holding, drawn closer to him even though I was sweaty and exhausted. I’d seen the delivery assemble the legs on the couch when I’d first bought it, so I tried to turn one, but it didn’t budge. I tried to move it in the other direction. Nothing. Then I tried another leg and got the same result.
“I know they come off,” I said, frustrated.
“Grab my end and I’ll see if I can get them,” Ford said.
“There’s a euphemism in there somewhere,” Dom said with a grin.
Ford and I ignored him as I moved to stand next to him, my shoulder brushing against his upper arm. I was pretty tall for a woman at five foot eight, but he had at least six inches on me.
“You good?” he asked me as I slid my hands beneath the couch.
Assuming he was asking me if I could handle holding on to it, I said, “Yeah.”
He let go and the couch immediately dropped, one of the legs landing on my big toe. Pain shot through my foot and I yelped, tears springing to my eyes.
“Shit!” Ford grabbed the couch and got it off my foot, then scooped me into his arms and carried me to a chair in the living room.
I was too lightheaded to even enjoy being in his arms. My toe was on fire. I wiped the corners of my eyes as Ford looked up at me, kneeling at my feet.
“I’m so sorry, Elle. I thought you had it.”
“No, I thought…” I fought tears. “I thought you were asking if I could hold it up.”
“Let me take a look.” He unlaced my running shoe, pulling the strings as loose as he could get them before gingerly removing it.
“What happened?” Sam asked, looking alarmed.
“Ford dropped a couch on her foot,” Dom said.
Ford glared at him. “I didn’t drop it on her foot. It was a misunderstanding.”
He gently pulled off my ankle sock and I cried out from the pain, covering my eyes with my hand to hide my tears. I’d never experienced pain like this.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “We need to get you to a doctor.”
“Yikes,” Sam said, cringing as she looked at my foot.
I took a deep breath and glanced at it. My toe was still intact, but the nail was split down the middle, blood running between my toes and down the side of my foot. It was ugly, but I was relieved to see that my toe wasn’t completely smashed.
“Do you have any gauze?” I asked Ford, not in the mood to dig through my bathroom boxes and find my own.
He frowned. “I have a first aid kit, but I really think you need to get this looked at.”
“I will, but not right now. I just want to clean it up and bandage it and finish moving the boxes in.”
We were so close that I could see the ring of gray surrounding his sky-blue eyes. His gaze was intent on me, and my heart pounded. It didn’t matter that I was sweaty and bleeding; I still wanted him closer.
“I’ll clean this up for you. Then Dom and I will carry everything else in.”
“You don’t have to clean my mangled toe. I’ll take care it.”
He cringed. “I’m really sorry.”
I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it; it’ll grow back.”
Sam brought me a couple of paper towels, which I used to keep myself from trailing blood all the way to the bathroom. Once I got inside and closed the door, I sat down on the toilet seat and covered my face with my hands, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
I hadn’t imagined meeting a man who intrigued me and then losing a toenail in a bloody accident right in front of him, but here we were.
Dom was like an energizer bunny, unpacking kitchen boxes while the rest of us took a break with some drinks in the living room, which was open to the kitchen.