Chapter 19 Sam
If a person could melt into a puddle from the sweetest, softest kiss in the world, that’s what I would be right now. It’s like he knows I can’t handle more than this and the tenderness he’s showing has fresh tears filling my eyes. He’s one hundred percent perfect.
And here I am tucked around one of my pillows with curlers in half of my hair, dressed in my robe. And my date is kneeling before me when we’re supposed to be on our way to a movie before going out for dinner. And I’m crying.
But he’s kissing me like this is simply a tiny change in plans versus my once-a-year, life-halting cramps ruining our first official date.
Holy cow, this man can kiss.
Nothing steamy is technically happening. But…wow.
Tommy breaks off our kiss and leaves one more on my forehead. He glances up at my hair and starts taking out my remaining curlers.
I’m mortified.
My hand is gently swatted away before it can get close to my hair and Tommy shakes his head.
“Your job right now is to think about where you’re going to be comfortable while I’m raiding your kitchen. If that spot is right here in bed, that’s just fine, but I need you to tell me so I can get you situated before I get a few things started.” He takes out the final curler and walks them to the bathroom where he’s clearly putting them back in the heater.
I sit up, my abdomen feeling like it’s in a vise grip, and mask the sound I make by asking a question. “What can I do?”
“Hold on, cowgirl,” he says lightly, but without hiding the worry on his face. “Your face is pale.”
“I want to help,” I protest.
Tommy looks at me, then the bed, and then looks outside the room.
“How comfortable would you be on the couch?”
“More. Being able to sit up a little can help.”
One second I’m curled up on my bed, and the next I’m being held in two strong arms. Tommy carries me to the couch, setting my legs down first so he can grab a pillow to put behind my back.
He gently lays me back, putting an extra pillow under my knees so I can stay tucked in my little ball of misery. It’s a whole lot better than the blinding pain of standing.
“Okay, now you need to not move, but you should be able to see what I’m doing and I’ll ask when I can’t find something. Got it?”
I look up at him standing there with his hand rubbing the back of his neck and his eyes checking my face for signs of something.
“This is pathetic,” I say, keeping the whine out of my voice.
“No, this is you needing to stay put and me knowing how to make things a little easier, so please let me.”
“Okay,” I reluctantly say.
He nods and goes right back to the kitchen, opening the fridge and then the freezer and moving some of the contents.
“What kind of dairy can you have?”
“Things like cheese and yogurt, but not a lot of either.”
“Got it. I’ll steer clear from even those for tonight.” He closes the freezer and comes back into view while typing something on his phone. “Will you be okay if I stay in the kitchen?”
Another wave of pain that’s almost searing hits and I hold perfectly still, holding my breath.
“Whoa,” Tommy says, closing the distance immediately. He looks me over as if he can find the pain to soothe it away.
I suppose if anyone can, it would be this man.
“On second thought, I’m going to stay right here until you can take something,” he says, looking decisive.
I make a sound of disagreement and take a shallow breath. “I’m fine, really.”
Of course a tear picks this very moment to fall again. Before I can try to hide it, Tommy’s palm is cupping my cheek and his thumb is brushing the tear away.
“No,” he says softly before his face screws up a little. “How about I stop talking about raiding your kitchen and wait right here with you for Greta to drop the meds off?”
The pain is ridiculous and I want to scream at the timing, but I can’t help feeling like the luckiest woman in the world to have Tommy here, wanting to have our date. Even though I’m going to be terrible company tonight.
“Sam?”
“Oh, sorry. Yes.”
“Where’d you go?” he asks.
He sees my hesitation clear as day.
“Don’t hide,” he reminds me, his eyes soft as he sits on the end of the coffee table in front of me.
“I was just thinking about how you’re not running for the hills.”
He snorts out a laugh. “Again, someone has set the bar far too low if this is winning me brownie points.”
There’s a knock at the door and I sigh in relief at the sound.
“I’ll get it,” Tommy says, kissing me on my forehead as he stands. That cedar scent is stronger today and I take a moment to appreciate being calm enough to soak it in.
Greta’s surprise is evident even from the couch when it’s not me at the door. Moments later, Tommy pockets the meds, grabs my water bottle from the kitchen, and, when he’s back at the couch, sets a coaster for the table. This man is racking up brownie points tonight. I reach out and take the water from him with a smile. I think I’m going to cry again because he doesn’t even think twice about caring for someone. Nothing about him says he expects anything in return, or that this is any sort of a burden.
He takes out a little container and pops off the lid. Again, how this man thinks about all the little things completely baffles me. One of my hands is holding my bottle and it would have hurt more to move around to set it down just so I could have two hands to open the container, but he just does it. He’s the first guy I’ve dated, even though this is just our first date so I don’t know that we’ve officially dated at this point, who was sympathetic to this. Everyone in the past just left me to my own devices.
Oh no, the tears are coming. I let him drop the two pills into my hand and quickly take them, hoping the cold in my mouth will somehow offset the waterworks.
It doesn’t.
Tommy is on his knees, once again, cupping my cheeks like I’m the most precious thing in the world which, combined with the pain that persists, sends me into full-on crying.
“What happened?” he whispers.
“How are you this wonderful?” I ask, blubbering and trying to find something to wipe my nose with before it runs. Somehow, I think even if I had mascara running down my face and was blowing my nose constantly, Tommy would still be here. He’d stay to help while I was sick versus just leaving me to my own devices, which is heart-warming and a little terrifying.