Chapter 17 #3
Sarah stood and willed her trembling legs to cross the room. She almost didn’t recognize the clean-shaven, well-dressed man outside her door. He looked so different she actually had to blink to be sure she wasn’t imagining him. “You clean up nicely.”
“Same to you,” he said, his eyes taking a slow and appreciative journey from her face to her knees and back up again to meet her gaze. “Very nice indeed.”
His praise and the not-so-subtle interest behind his words sent a flash of heat through her that settled between her legs, reminding her that while her marriage might be dead, she was still very much alive and still very much a woman.
Charlie extended an arm to her. “Shall we?”
Sarah didn’t hesitate when she curled her hand into the crook of his elbow. “By all means.”
Blaine settled Tiffany in his bed, and pulled a light blanket over her. Her dark hair fanned out on his pillow as her sweet lips moved adorably in her sleep the way Ashleigh’s did. She’d thought he’d be disgusted by how she looked, but to him, she was beautiful all the time, even when sick.
Keeping the bedside light on so she’d be able to find the bathroom if she got up, he went to the kitchen and located an old plastic bowl that he put on the bed next to her, in case she needed it.
Over the next couple of hours, he made a sandwich and drank a couple of beers, watched a few innings of the Red Sox game and reviewed some reports he’d brought home from the office.
By nine o’clock, he could no longer take knowing she was asleep in his bed while he was in the next room acting like it didn’t matter that she was asleep in his bed.
He took a long, cold shower to remind himself that this night was about comfort and not about sex before he slid in next to her and wrapped an arm around her. Damn, she was still blazing hot with fever.
While he knew he should try to get her to take something for the fever, he was afraid her ravaged stomach wouldn’t be able to handle it.
She turned over and curled up to him, her face pressed against his chest.
The implied trust she conveyed by reaching for him in her sleep set off a chain reaction of emotion in him.
She was so damned sweet, even if she wanted the rest of the world to see her bitter, edgy side.
He’d seen the sweetness, but he adored snarky, sarcastic Tiffany, too.
Blaine smoothed a hand over her hair, hoping she’d sleep off the worst of the bug overnight.
He must’ve dozed off, waking when she moaned in her sleep.
“Tiffany,” he whispered.
Her eyes opened, and she blinked him into focus.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded.
“Need anything?”
“Maybe some water. I’m so thirsty.”
“Coming right up.” He released her to get up and retrieve ice water from the kitchen. When he returned to the bedroom, he helped her sit up and held the glass for her.
She took a couple of greedy sips. “That’s good.”
“Take it slow. You don’t want to get your stomach going again.”
As if it had heard him, her stomach let out a huge growl that made them laugh.
“That’s attractive,” Tiffany said. “In fact, I must be knocking your socks off with how attractive I am right now.”
Blaine leaned in and kissed her square on the lips. “You’re gorgeous, even when you’re sick.”
“Sure I am.”
“Would I lie to you?”
“I don’t know. Would you?”
Even though they’d been joking around, he sensed that she expected a serious answer. “Never.”
“That’s good to know,” she said with a small smile that told him how much his one-word answer had meant to her.
“How about some crackers to see if your stomach can handle a little food?”
“Earlier, I thought I’d never eat again, but now crackers sound good. I feel a hundred times better than I did before.”
“That’s good. Be right back.” He returned a minute later with a box of oyster crackers and a couple of painkillers to combat the fever, which she took with another big swallow of water. “This was the best I could do.”
“I love them.”
Propped on pillows, he sat next to her and held the box while she munched on a handful of the small crackers.
“This makes me want clam chowder,” she said.
“A sure sign that you’re on the road to recovery.”
“No kidding. A few hours ago the words clam chowder would’ve made me puke.”
“If it makes you feel any better, the flu is taking the island by storm. I’ve heard of at least two dozen cases.”
“Lucky me.”
He took her hand and linked their fingers. “Lucky me. I get to take care of you.”
“It’s all part of your devious plot to make yourself essential to me.”
“How am I doing so far?”
“Pretty good.”
“Only pretty good? That’s disappointing.”
He loved listening to her laugh, loved the way her eyes danced with mischief and her lips pursed in thought. There were a lot of things he loved about her, he realized in a moment of clarity.
“Why did you suddenly get all serious?” she asked, mimicking his expression.
“Did I?”
She nodded. “What’re you thinking about?”
Blaine chose his words carefully so as not to drive her away by getting too serious too fast. “I was thinking that I like being with you like this.”
“When there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell of sex?”
That made him laugh. “Even then.”