Excerpt of Bad Taste in Men by Kylie Gilmore

Shane pulled into the small parking lot behind her store.
Her apartment was on the second floor. He fetched her
crutches from the back seat and walked around to open her
car door. She tucked the crutches under her arms and made
her way awkwardly to the rear entrance.

“Thanks again,” she told him. “I got it from here.”

He exhaled sharply. “Gimme the keys. I’m not leaving you.”

She pulled her keys from her purse. “I’m fine. You’ve done
your part. Thank you. Good night.”

He snatched the keys from her, unlocked the door, and
slipped a crutch out from under her arm, replacing it with
his body. His voice rumbled low in her ear. “Relax.”

She suppressed a shiver. That would’ve happened with anyone
speaking so close to her. Sound waves and physics and
neurological stuff. She glanced at him, so close. His eyes
were blue with flecks of gold. She’d never noticed the gold
flecks before. Her eyes widened as he leaned the other
crutch against the building and scooped her up in his arms.

“Careful of my ankle!” she screeched.

He grunted, pushed open the door, and carried her upstairs
to her apartment. If her pulse was racing, it was only
because of the risk of falling down an entire flight of
stairs. He carried her in and set her down gently on the bed.

“Really, Shane, there are easier ways to get me into bed.”

His voice went low and husky. “When I want to get you into
bed, you’ll know it.”

Her face flushed. She opened her mouth for a snappy retort,
but nothing came out. Was he coming on to her or insulting her?

He chuckled. “I’ll bring your crutches.”

He left, and she propped up the pillows behind her so she
could sit up in bed. He returned and placed the crutches
next to her bed.

“I’ll take the sofa,” Shane said, “so I can carry you
downstairs again in the morning.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’ve got crutches. I can do it.”

“If you don’t want me to stay, then call me when you wake up
and I’ll come over. I’m not letting you tumble down those
stairs.”

“You’re not sleeping on my sofa.”

“Then call me.”

“Sure,” she said just to get rid of him.

His eyes narrowed. “I’ll be on the sofa.”

“No!” She thought fast. How to get him out of her hair?

“Sleep in my bed instead,” she offered, lifting the covers.

His eyes lit up. “I thought you’d never ask.”

And to her absolute shock, he scooted in next to her.