Chapter 156
[ 474 words ]
Chapter 156:
He stopped dead in his tracks.
He turned his head. The yellow streetlight illuminated Caroline’s pale face and the awkward, stiff way she was holding her right leg.
Jarrod didn’t ask her what was wrong. He pulled his hand out of his pocket, releasing her fingers.
He took one large step in front of her, turned his broad back to her, and dropped down onto one knee right in the middle of the sidewalk.
O𝘳𝗀anі𝘇e 𝘺o𝘶𝗿 l𝘪br𝘢𝗋𝘆 𝗼𝘯 𝘨𝗮𝗹no𝘷е𝗹𝗌.с𝗈𝗺
Caroline jumped back, startled by the sudden movement.
“What are you doing?” she asked, staring down at him.
Jarrod stayed crouched. He reached back and patted his massive, solid shoulder.
“Get on,” Jarrod ordered. His voice was a low, vibrating rumble that left absolutely no room for debate. “I will carry you.”
Caroline stared at his wide back. A hysterical laugh bubbled in her throat. The image was completely absurd. A high-ranking, ruthless Pentagon colonel was kneeling on a public street, offering a piggyback ride like a teenager.
“I am not doing that,” Caroline refused flatly. “I am not crippled. I can walk.”
Jarrod turned his head and looked up at her over his shoulder. A dark, wicked amusement danced in his gray eyes.
“If you prefer,” Jarrod said smoothly, “I can pick you up bridal style and carry you down the avenue while you kick and scream. Just like I did at your parents’ house. It is entirely your choice.”
The memory of being hoisted into the air like a sack of potatoes made Caroline’s face burn with fresh humiliation. She ground her teeth together. She knew this man never made empty threats.
She weighed her options.
With a heavy, resentful sigh, she stepped forward. She placed her small hands tentatively on top of his rock-hard shoulders.
Jarrod reached back. His large, hot hands clamped securely under her thighs.
He stood up in one smooth, explosive motion. He didn’t even grunt. To him, her weight was absolutely nothing. He adjusted her weight, carefully settling her onto his left side, instinctively protecting the right shoulder that had taken a bullet for her sake weeks ago.
Caroline was forced to drape her upper body over his back. Her cheek pressed directly against the crisp cotton of his dress shirt. Beneath the fabric, she could hear the slow, powerful, rhythmic thud of his heartbeat.
Jarrod adjusted his grip on her legs and started walking. His strides were long and perfectly stable. The agonizing friction on Caroline’s heel vanished instantly.
She shifted her weight, trying to find a comfortable angle.
“It’s like leaning against a brick wall,” Caroline complained, her voice muffled against his shirt. “Your shoulders are digging into my chest.”
Jarrod let out a low, deep chuckle. The sound vibrated through his chest cavity and transferred directly into her body.
“That is muscle built for stopping blunt force trauma,” Jarrod shot back, his tone laced with arrogant amusement. “It was not designed to be your luxury latex mattress.”
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