Chapter 5
Belle
I'd gone to bed excited at the idea of a fireplace in the four-seasons room we were planning. It would be cozy and fun to decorate for the holidays. I couldn't wait to have the space to host more groups and parties.
It was going to be amazing. Everything was working out for me, and I couldn't wait to see the additions completed.
I grabbed the book I was reading from my nightstand and tried to read, but I was so tired. I must have fallen asleep. When I woke up, the book had fallen on the comforter, and my stomach was churning. I felt clammy.
I was going to be sick.
I heaved myself out of bed, grabbed a blanket, and dropped to my knees in front of the toilet. Then I threw up everything I'd eaten for dinner the night before. It was awful. Tears sprung to my eyes, and all I could do was flush the toilet, wipe my mouth, and brace for the next round.
I hadn't been sick like this since I was a kid. I rested my aching head against the cool wall, thinking I'd gotten it from one of the kids who'd visited the store.
I was so miserable. I couldn't seem to move from my position, the hard floor and wall making my muscles ache. I wished there was someone to call or even a roommate who could keep me company. But there was no one.
My mother had never been a good nurse, and my hometown friends weren't the kind I called when I needed help.
When there was more time between puking episodes and I was able to lower my head to the floor. I wrapped the blanket around me as best I could and tried to stop the trembling.
The store didn't open until nine on Saturday, so I had a bit of time before I needed to shower and open up. I must have drifted off, because the next thing I heard was feet thumping on the stairwell and a pounding on my door.
"Belle!"
It sounded like Maverick, but that was ridiculous. Why would he be here? Wasn't it the middle of the night still? There weren't any windows in the bathroom, so I had no idea what time it was, and my phone was on my nightstand.
I hadn't had the energy to get it.
"Belle, open up."
I tried to open my mouth, but it was so dry. Maybe if I ignored him, he'd go away.
If he needed my opinion on his work, it could wait until I was feeling better. I didn't want him to see me like this.
Then a key slid into the lock, and the door opened.
"Belle, where are you?"
I felt the pound of his feet, and then he paused. I couldn't lift my head.
The light turned on, and I closed my eyes against the sharp glare.
He dropped to his knees, his hands shifting my hair out of my face. I probably looked awful. "Are you sick?"
His tone and touch were surprisingly gentle.
"Yes," was all I could manage. "You can leave me here. I think the worst of it is over."
He stood. "Not happening."
"Why are you so stubborn?" I mumbled with my eyes still closed. I couldn't bear to open them or move for that matter. Everything hurt, and it was so cold outside of the blanket.
"Why are you?" he said as he turned on the shower.Then he crouched down again. "Let's get you in the shower. Then I'll clean up and get you something to eat."
My stomach hurt. "No food. No shower."
He shifted me so that I was sitting, leaning against the wall. "You'll feel better if you take a shower."
I was positive that my breath smelled awful. "I highly doubt that."
He was quiet, so I opened my eyes.
"Why are you helping me?"
"When you didn't open up this morning, a customer asked what was going on. You were planning to work today, so I thought there was something wrong. When you didn't answer, I got worried. You really shouldn't leave a spare key above the doorframe. That's the first place someone will check."
"I didn't put a key there. Must have been the previous tenant." I tried to shift to standing but slipped. "I didn't realize how late it was. I have to get ready to open the store."
"You're not working today." He put his hands under my arms and lifted me to stand. He put an arm around me so that I was leaning against his side.
I hoped I hadn't managed to puke on myself last night.
He helped me over to the shower where I could feel the steam from the water.
It would feel good to clean up. Not that I'd ever admit that to him.
"You need help getting undressed?"
I bit my lip. "I can manage."
"I'll be in your room. Just holler if you need me. I'll leave the door ajar."
I couldn't even manage a nod; my head ached so badly. And when I attempted a smile, it felt more like a grimace.
He left the room, leaving the door ajar like he promised. The heat of the water beckoned me, so I lifted the silky negligee over my head, letting it fall to the floor. By the time I removed my panties, I was worn out.
But the draw of getting the stench cleaned off was too great to ignore.
I stepped under the water and closed the glass door.
I lifted my face to the stream, allowing the warm water to wash away the sickness.
I managed to squirt shampoo on my hand to wash my hair.
I followed up with conditioner, allowing it to soak into my hair while I soaped up my body.
I made a mental note to brush my teeth when I got out. Hopefully by then, I'd feel like a new person. I just wasn't sure how I'd manage to stand up all day at work. Maybe I could set up a stool so I could sit while checking out customers.
I tipped my head back, allowing the water to rinse the suds away. I marveled that Maverick had cared enough to check on me and hadn't run away repulsed when he found me on the floor in the fetal position. Instead, he'd touched my hair with tenderness, and his concerned voice had washed over me.
It was a nice thing to do. Not something I would expect from a man that stood me up. But then again, that was a long time ago, and maybe he'd matured since then.
I was having a hard time reconciling grouchy Maverick, the man who wanted nothing to do with me, and the one who'd run into my bathroom worried about my well-being.
I turned off the water, hesitating for a second to step out into the cold air.
"You need help?" His voice was close, probably just outside the bathroom door.
"I got it." But I wasn't sure I did. The thought of getting out of the shower was too much. I was exhausted from the effort and the night spent on a hard tiled floor.
"I'll come in and hold the towel for you."
"The shower door is glass." It was frosted, but I was sure he could see something if he tried.
"I'll cover my eyes."
The help was too attractive to pass up. "Okay."
When the door squeaked open, I could see that he'd used his hand to cover his eyes but probably left his sight range open to see where he was walking. He grabbed the towel in one hand and held it open so that it blocked his face. "It's ready for you."
I sighed and opened the glass door, stepping onto the rug. He wrapped the towel around me, and when I looked up, his eyes were squeezed shut.
"Thank you."
He grabbed another towel and put this one over my head, rubbing my hair to help dry it.
"You don't have to help. I can manage."
He just raised a brow and continued his gentle drying of my hair. He pulled the strands back and squeezed the excess water. "You want to brush your teeth?"
I nodded. "I'd love to."
He hung up the second towel to dry and squeezed toothpaste onto my brush. Then he handed it to me.
I held the towel closed with one hand. I was fairly sure I still looked close to death, so he shouldn't find me attractive. Not that he did on a good day either.
He stepped out to give me privacy, and I leaned heavily on the vanity as I brushed, then spit out the toothpaste. I rinsed several times until my mouth felt clean. I set my brush down on the counter.
"You want to get dressed, and I'll get some dry toast for you?" His voice was surprisingly soft.
"I don't know if I can eat anything."
"I can run out and get some saltines then. I didn't see any in your pantry. I'll be right back if you think you'll be okay for a few seconds."
"Of course, but you don't need to do that. I'll be okay," I insisted.
"You have my number if you want to text me anything you'll need. I was planning on getting bread, apple sauce, popsicles, and the ingredients for soup."
"You don't have to go through all this trouble." I stepped out of the bathroom.
"Take your time getting dressed. I changed your sheets so you can get into bed."
Before I could remind him that he didn't have to change my sheets or go to the store, the front door had opened and closed, leaving me alone. I was tempted to fall onto the bed and sleep for a million years. But I had a store to open.
My cell phone said it was already ten. I couldn't be seen as a flake. It was never a good idea not to be open on the times and dates you said you would be. I wanted to be on a consistent schedule so customers knew what to expect.
But I couldn't go yet. I was too weak and exhausted. I probably should try to eat something. There was an iced water on the nightstand with a Post-it note. It said, Try to take small sips.
He was probably worried I'd sneak downstairs and open the store. The question was, why did he care what I did? I thought he was content to avoid me as much as possible.
I got the impression he was counting down the days until the project was over, and he could move on. I figured that was why he was working on weekends. The quicker he could finish the job, the sooner he could get away from me.
I forced myself to move toward the dresser and pulled out panties, sweats, and a T-shirt. I felt hot from last night. I pulled on socks and grabbed a sweatshirt in case I got cold. I had a feeling I wouldn't be moving from wherever I parked my body.
Since the sheets were fresh, I climbed into bed and sighed in relief. My body ached from laying on the hard tile all night, and it felt good to rest on something soft. The pillow was cool under my cheek, and I wanted to close my eyes.
My phone buzzed, and I picked it up to read Maverick's message.
Maverick: You'd better be in bed.
I lifted my phone and snapped a selfie, adding a caption before I hit Send.
Belle: So bossy.
Maverick: That's my girl.
My heart skipped a beat. I wasn't his girl and never would be. He was just being nice because I looked awful.
Why was he being so nice to me? He could have called Clara or one of the other shop owners to come over. He could have insisted on calling my mother. I wasn't sure she'd come, but he could have done any number of things except help me shower and run to the store.
He probably felt responsible for me. But once he'd bought the groceries, he'd be on his way.
The next thing I knew, there was a dip in the bed, and I was opening my eyes.
I rubbed them. They felt gritty.
"You should eat something."
I sat up, and Maverick set a plate of toast on the nightstand. He helped to fluff the pillows behind my back.
I hadn't bothered to put on a bra, and my nipples were sensitive under the soft cotton of my T-shirt. I wished I'd put on the sweatshirt to cover them.
"I made toast. But why don't you try a few saltines first?"
I took one from him and carefully nibbled it. I wasn't hungry, but I was eager to move past this stage of sickness and feel better. If I had to eat to feel better more quickly, then I would.
"That's a good girl."
My body flushed. Why did he keep calling me that? "I thought you hated me?"
His eyes flashed with irritation. "You scared me when I found you on the floor. I thought something had happened."
"Something more than a stomach virus?" I asked.
He cleared his throat. "Yeah."
"Thanks for checking on me and buying groceries, but you don't need to hang around. I'll be okay."
He gave me a look. "If I leave, you're going to go downstairs and try to work."
I grimaced. "How did you know?"
"The store is important to you, and I'm sure you're upset that you can't be down there."
I chewed my lip. "Customers expect me to be open."
"I called Aspen and let her in. She figured out the cash register and is checking people out. And don't worry. She's telling everyone you're sick."
I lowered the cracker, waiting for the bite to settle in my stomach. "You asked your sister to work for me?"
He handed me the water, urging me to drink. "She didn't have to work at the inn this morning, so she was free."
"That was really nice of her." I'd have to thank her somehow.
"I owe her one."
"I owe her a favor." I sipped the water tentatively, not sure if the cool liquid would settle in my stomach.
He took the glass back. "She was happy to help you. Me? Not so much."
"Are you grouchy with everyone?" I asked, genuinely curious. I never saw him interact with his family, and we'd had brief interactions at school. That was it.
He sighed. "That's what they say."
"I thought it was just me."
"It's possible I'm grouchier with you, and I'm sorry for that." He didn't meet my gaze, and then he stood. "Would you like me to grab a book or something to read? I noticed you had a library of books packed in boxes in your living room."
"I haven't had a chance to put them on the shelves yet. It was more of a priority to stock the store."
"I can grab a few and put them on the nightstand. Just promise me that you'll eat a few bites of toast."
"As soon as I'm sure my stomach is going to accept the cracker and the water." I snuggled under the covers.
He nodded, then slipped out.
I scrolled on my phone, answering the texts on the chain that we'd created for the shop owners: Reina, Meg, Clara, and Angela, telling them that I had a stomach virus, but I was starting to feel more like myself.
Maverick returned with a stack of books. "I picked a variety."
My heart warmed that he'd actually read the blurbs or at least looked at the cover to figure out what I might like.
He placed them in a careful stack on the nightstand. Then he raised a brow at the plate. "You haven't eaten."
"I'm working on it." Dutifully, I set the plate on my lap and lifted the toast.
"If you eat that, I can give you a popsicle."
"That actually sounds good right now." I hadn't eaten one since I was a kid.
He swung the chair at my desk around so he could sit on it. "I'll just stick around until you take a few bites."
I sighed. "I don't need a babysitter."
He pursed his lips. "I'm starting to think you do."
And here I thought he was being nicer to me because I was sick. He was already back to his old ways. I hadn't asked why he was cranky with me because I was afraid of the answer. I didn't need him telling me it was because he liked me. He'd already decided we could never be anything.
I had to guard my heart.