Chapter Thirty-One
Sloane squealed as she crowded closer to the glass enclosure. “Oh, it’s a red panda. I love pandas!”
August side-eyed her. “You’ve said that about every animal we’ve seen.”
“Because it’s the truth. Aww, it’s stuck behind this little glass wall. Do you think it wants to be stuck there?”
“It’s the only home it knows.”
“Yeah,” she said dispiritedly. “At least he has room to roam and gets fed on a regular basis. He just has to bear the indignity of all us humans staring at him. And it’s hot here in San Diego. Maybe we should break him out and return him to his homeland.”
He stared at her.
Sloane scrunched up her shoulders. “What? It’s a good idea. I mean, it’s not, but I think about it every time I come here. I just want them to be happy and live their best lives.”
His lips quirked slightly at the corner, like he was amused by her. Okay, fine. She could admit it to herself—but absolutely no one else—that she lived for that little quirk. That sign that he was really paying attention to and seeing her. That maybe she wanted to see the quirk more often. Maybe after this temporary assignment was over. Maybe as he leaned closer to kiss her lips.
But what if she was alone in these feelings? The threat of rejection never really went away. He’d done it once—hell, twice—before. Who said he wouldn’t do it again? Did she really want to put her happiness in the hands of someone else? But what if…
What if that other person made her happier than she’d ever been?
And she hadn’t addressed the other issue. Yes, she was fairly confident he was attracted to her, but he was supposed to be on a date with another woman. He’d volunteered for the opportunity.
Sloane pressed a hand to her forehead as a wave of dizziness hit her.
“You okay?” August asked.
“Yeah. I’m just a little warm.” Maybe she was officially overthinking things.
“It’s not that hot today. Want some ice cream?” August stopped and pointed to a concession stand selling the frozen treats.
“Yes!” Absolutely. Anything to distract her from the spin cycle of her brain.
His eyes narrowed for a second, his head tilting to the side, like he was concerned about her way-too-exuberant agreement. She sighed in relief when he asked for her preferred flavor instead of asking why she was acting so strange.
“Butter pecan.”
He nodded and stepped up to the cashier.
“I can pay for it,” she said. “You already paid for our admission.”
He turned. “I know, but I got it this time.”
Right. He wasn’t trying to control her. He believed in her need to be independent and had never told her she was being silly for not accepting financial help from her millionaire brother. Another reason it was absolutely amazing she hadn’t jumped the man’s bones yet. Okay, except for one or two or three times.
She was confronted with reason number 853 after they settled at a nearby table. August knew how to lick an ice-cream cone. Her mind could head straight to the gutter as quickly as anyone else’s. It took up permanent residency there as she forgot about her ice cream and watched him enjoy his own.
Slow and steady with little licks. In no hurry. Savoring every bite. The concentration on his face. She wasn’t made of stone. As the ice cream melted, his swipes got longer and faster. He was so, so talented. His tongue was masterful.
The heat between her legs intensified.
“You okay?” he asked, jerking his chin toward her half-eaten cone.
“Yeah, yeah. Just enjoying the scenery. I love this place,” she added quickly, in case he inferred, quite correctly, that she was talking about him. “Can I ask you a question? It’s really personal, so feel free to say no.”
“I trust you. Shoot.”
“At the bookstore, you kinda had no reaction to seeing that your ex-wife is coming to town. Are you okay?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. It was a shock. Hell, the whole divorce was a shock. That’s what I had a hard time getting past. I didn’t see it coming.”
“Do you mind if I ask what happened?”
“I came home one day from practice. She was waiting, with her bags packed, and said the marriage wasn’t working anymore. She was on a plane to New York later that night.”
“Oh, August. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.” He offered up a small smile. “I’m okay, I promise. The marriage is done. The only thing I ever wonder about is if she ever regrets hurting me.”
“August.” He truly was the kindest, most genuine man she’d ever met.
“It’s okay.” He jerked his chin toward her cone. “Your ice cream is melting.”
Sloane looked down. Oh, crap, it was. She took a few swipes to mop up the ice cream sliding down the cone. “Mmm,” she moaned as the nutty flavor melted on her tongue.
He cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. “Did you have fun today?”
“Uh, yeah! This is the best day ever.”
And he’d planned it all for another woman. Sloane came up short. Right? Visiting bookstores and the zoo were all activities she enjoyed. But surely that was a coincidence. Right? Who didn’t enjoy wandering aimlessly through a bookstore picking up any book that caught her attention? Going to the zoo that was, yes, a crowded tourist attraction, but had cute animals like red pandas she had to fight through a throng of people to catch a glimpse of?
Sloane blinked as the truth hit her like a sledgehammer. Plenty of people didn’t enjoy those things, especially the crowded part. Like August. But he had been so patient the entire time and joined in on the fun at every opportunity.
What was going on? Was this a date? She liked to think of herself as a fairly intelligent person, but she was so confused right now. Was she being conceited to think this was an honest-to-God date ? She ate some ice cream to give her brain something else to concentrate on.
Suddenly, her stomach cramped, but not with indecision. She groaned and pressed a hand to her abdomen. “I need to get out of here.”
August’s brow furrowed. He jumped up from his chair and rushed around the table to her side. “What’s wrong?”
Oh, no . She puked all over his shoes.
Sloane opened her front door and staggered inside. Was her place an acceptable form of everyday mess or did it look like a cyclone had swept through? She couldn’t remember. Could barely concentrate on the question. Her stomach hated her with the fire of a thousand suns.
“No need,” she mumbled as August swept her into his arms. He ignored her half-hearted protest and carried her down the hall. She pointed with a listless hand toward her bedroom.
August strode through the entryway and gently settled her on her bed.
“Go away.” She pushed his hand away when he reached toward her forehead.
He smiled. “Don’t be stubborn.”
“It’s the only way I know to be,” she mumbled.
“I know.” He crouched down next to her. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit.” Food poisoning tended to do that to you.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.” He ran a gentle finger down her cheek, concern swimming in his gorgeous eyes.
He’d rushed her to the first aid clinic at the zoo. She didn’t have any food allergies that she knew of, so they’d ruled that out quickly. Her symptoms were consistent with food poisoning. Maybe that grocery-store sushi she’d had for dinner last night wasn’t the best choice.
Groaning, Sloane covered her stomach again as its contents roiled again. Not that there was much left inside.
He ran into her en suite bathroom and returned with a trash can. “Just in case.” He set it down on the floor and rushed out of the bedroom again. A few seconds later, he returned with a bottle of ginger ale she kept in her refrigerator. “Here.”
Thankful, she guzzled the liquid. And then flopped back on the bed, all her energy drained from that simple act. She hated relying on anyone, but she didn’t have the strength or the energy or the desire really to protest when he slipped her shoes off, swung her legs onto the bed, and tucked her in. Or when he pressed a cold cloth to her brow. She could barely keep her eyes open, so she didn’t see the point in trying.
“Please get better,” she thought she heard him say as she dozed off. A light pressure on her forehead reminiscent of a kiss accompanied the murmur, but she wasn’t sure.
Throughout the night, a bucket magically appeared underneath her chin when she needed to throw up even though there was nothing left. A glass of water was there when her mouth ran dry. A cool towel was pressed to her forehead when she felt overheated.
Magic was the best, she thought as she drifted off to sleep again.
Sloane’s eyes flew open. Pee. She needed to pee. Now.
Feeling and no doubt looking like the baby giraffe she’d mooned over at the zoo, she stumbled on unsteady legs to the bathroom. She sighed in abject relief when she got to the toilet in time to relieve her bladder. “Whew.”
Then her stomach rumbled. “No, not again.” She dropped to her knees and puked up bile, the only remaining remnants in her stomach. A hand rubbed her back and cooed reassurances at her in a deep, heavenly voice. The angel then wiped her mouth, helped her to her feet, and tucked her back into bed.
“Thanks,” she mumbled as she drifted off to sleep.
When she woke again, sunlight peeked through the window. Sloane blinked and determinedly pushed herself upright against the headboard with heavy limbs that weren’t really interested in cooperating.
What time was it? What day was it? Why was she in her bed, feeling like a truck ran over her?
It all came back to her in a rush. She groaned and dropped her head into her hands. “Ugh.”
She’d thrown up all over August’s Js. Not her finest moment. But today was a new day. She had a job to do. Reputations to save. Her stomach growled. A tummy to fill. But first a shower.
Twenty minutes later, she felt marginally more human. A hot shower, toothpaste, and mouthwash could do that for a gal. She donned an old loose-fitting Knights T-shirt she’d stolen from her brother years ago that was three times too big, because who needed tight clothing when you felt like crap?
Grr . Smiling, Sloane placed her hands over her stomach. That was a good growl, not a there’s-terrible-stuff-in-here-that-we-want-out-now growl. Food was next on her to-do list.
When she made the turn into her living room, she screamed. Someone was lurking in the dark. The person flipped the light switch. She slapped a hand over her galloping chest. Not a person. August. And he’d scared the shit out of her. “What are you doing here in the dark?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I wasn’t in the dark. I was coming back from the kitchen. And hello to you too.”
Right. She was being an ass. He’d obviously stayed to take care of her. It hadn’t been a figment of her always overactive imagination. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. You hungry?”
She nodded.
“I’ll make you something.” He turned, like that was the end of it. She hurried to keep up with him.
August was in her apartment. Her tiny apartment. She’d always thought it was a decent size, but he took up so much space. So much air, leaving her breathless.
He pointed to one of the stools on the other side of the countertop.
She sat. “Ooh, it’s like I’m at a roadside diner in the movies. Can I have hash browns, a triple stack of pancakes, and bacon, extra crispy?”
“No.”
Sloane gasped. “What do you mean ‘no’? I’m the sick person here!”
“Exactly. You don’t need all that grease after what you just went through. Toast and scrambled eggs it is.”
Damn the kindhearted man. Sloane snorted to hide how touched she was that he cared about her well-being. “You’re no fun.”
His lips, still lickable, still biteable, twitched again. “You’ll live.”
A few minutes later, he slid a plate in front of her. Eggs and toast, like he’d promised. She looked up at him with a grimace. “Seriously, this is it?”
“Eat.”
“You’re so bossy,” she muttered.
“What was that?” he called out from the refrigerator where he was grabbing a carton of orange juice.
“Nothing.” She hastily picked up her fork and took a bite of eggs. They were great. Not that she was surprised. They looked good—fluffy and yellow. She just liked to give August shit. She took a bite of the toast—a light brown like she liked. Another winner. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
He leaned his back against the counter. “You’re welcome.”
Sloane set the toast on her plate. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you take care of me?”
“You wanted me to drop-kick you out of my car as I barely slowed down on my way home?”
Sloane shot him a look. He was being deliberately obtuse. “No. You know what I mean. You could’ve called my mom or my brother or sister.”
“I was already here.”
Right. Damn the man and his uncanny ability to say a whole lot of nothing when he wanted to. She finished her meal and held up the empty plate.
“Good girl.”
A pleasurable shiver slid down her spine. Okay, time to get out of here. She slid off the stool, circled around to the living room, and settled on the couch. She tried not to be happy when he followed her a minute later. She failed. He held something behind his back. She tilted her head to the side. “What’s going on?”
“How are you feeling, really?”
“Better. But I’m still hungry. Someone wouldn’t let me eat a huge, greasy meal.”
“Awful. Diabolical.” He paused. “I’m probably not being a good nurse, but I got you something.”
He pulled a distinctive teal box from behind his back. A Sugar Blitz cupcake.
Sloane squealed in delight and clapped her hands. “Gimme.”
He held the box close to his chest. “Any nausea?”
“No. Pinkie promise.”
He sat next to her on the couch and handed the box to her. Sloane’s mouth watered at the delightful smells emanating from inside. She wasted no time in ripping the container open and taking out the lemon meringue cupcake. She moaned as the flavor burst on her tongue. “Oh, my God, this is so good. Nicholas is the best baker ever.”
A clearing throat interrupted her fawning spiel.
Sloane beamed at him. “And you are the absolute best for getting it for me. Did you go out and get this?”
“And leave you alone? No, I had it delivered. I thought about making them, but you have nothing but eggs, leftover fried rice, juice, and ginger ale in your fridge.”
“All I need in this life of sin.”
She was rewarded with his beautiful, crooked smile. She dropped her gaze to the cupcake. “This is exactly what I needed. It’s so beautiful.”
“Agreed.”
She looked up. Her breath caught in her throat. “You’re staring at me.”
He shrugged. He didn’t stop.
Sloane’s lips curved with pure joy as her heart picked up pace to a gallop. “Is this the part where you tell me I look beautiful even though I’m in a ratty T-shirt and have bags under my eyes after a night of puking?”
“No. You looked terrible last night. Still do.”
Sloane gasped. “Get out!” She pointed to the front door.
“No. This is the part where I say I’m happy you’re feeling better after you took a couple of years off my life. I was worried sick about you. I’ll raise holy hell if you ignore what your body is telling you like that again.”
Sloane’s heart melted. “Thank you.”
“You already said that.”
“I know, but thank you for everything. Yesterday. Wait. It was yesterday, right? I haven’t lost a week of my life to food poisoning, have I?”
His lips quirked. “No.”
God, she wanted to bite that bottom lip. Suck on it.
“Good. Thanks for yesterday. It was the perfect day until I got sick.”
“Agreed.”
Sloane dropped her eyes to the cupcake. Did she have the guts to put her heart on the line and risk heartbreak? Risk not being able to control the future? Yes. Time to go for broke and lay it all out there. No more guessing and assuming. She lifted her head. He was still watching her. Always watching her. “Did you plan it for me?”
“Yes.” Said with the quiet intensity that never failed to mesmerize her. Said so simply, like there had been no other choice. Maybe there hadn’t been.
Her heart stuttered once. Twice. Not that she’d expected him to lie, but she’d thought he’d be a little more reticent, hesitant to put it all out there. But why? This was August. He always spoke the truth. He was always honorable.
Yes, she’d thought the probability that she was right was fairly high, but still she hadn’t let herself truly believe, because what if… She looked up into his eyes. Yes, what if? What if she went after everything she’d wanted for twelve years?
She caressed his jaw, rough with stubble.
“Was Desiree ever going to show up?”
“No. I canceled.”
Wow .
“Why did you plan those specific activities?”
“Because I knew you’d enjoy them.” He reached for her hand and traced the lines in her palm. “Because I wanted to go out on a date with you, and if I asked you directly, I knew the odds were pretty good you’d freak out.”
Because he knew her. If he’d asked, she would’ve overthought the whole situation and worried about things not working out. Freaked out, in other words. She felt his eyes on her mouth as she took another bite of cupcake and tried to adjust to this new reality. As her heart practically burst with happiness. “So you planned a sneaky date.”
“I did.”
“Thank you. I loved it. Well, before the puking, anyway.”
That special smile spread across his face. “Anytime.”
She held up the dessert. “Wanna try it?”
“Sure.”
She pinched off a piece of the ridiculously fresh cupcake and pressed it to his mouth until his lips parted. She gasped at the quick flick of his tongue against her thumb. He chewed slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.
“What do you think?”
“It’s sweet.”
“Hmm, let me try.” She gently pressed her lips to the left corner of his mouth, then the opposite side. Her pulse accelerated at his quick inhalation of breath.
“Sloane. Are you trying to seduce me?” His hand landed on her leg and squeezed.
“Yes,” she answered breathlessly.
“Your stomach—”
“Is fine. I’m fine. Now, hush and let me complete my mission.”