Chapter 8
Eight
“ H ey, how are you feeling?”
Abby opened her eyes, pleasantly surprised to discover that the pain in her head had quieted to a manageable level. But even more surprising than that was the very handsome and sleep ruffled man sitting in a chair by her bed.
“John? What are you still doing here?”
His cheeks turned a delicious shade of red, and she couldn’t stop herself from looking over his features. Bright blue eyes filled with concern had her stomach doing flips, and thank god it wasn’t from nausea.
“You needed someone to stay and check on you all night. Since you didn’t want me to call your mom or your brother, I stayed. I promise I just sat over here for a while in case you were sick again, and then I slept on your couch.”
“What about Katy? And your work?”
He shrugged, like staying there to watch over her was the most natural thing in the world. “My parents have Katy and I don't have a shift for a few days. I was worried about you. I didn’t want to find myself knocking on your door at an ungodly hour and waking you up to make sure you were okay.”
“That was really sweet of you. I’m usually fine a couple hours after a migraine sets in, though. I feel bad you had to sleep on my couch. That couldn’t have been very comfortable.”
“I’ve definitely slept in worse places.”
She couldn’t hold in her look of surprise, and his laugh filled her room.
“I wasn’t always a law-abiding sheriff’s deputy, Ms. Cooper. But those are stories for another time.”
“I definitely want to hear them.” She rolled over in bed, reaching for her phone. Her heart slamming in her chest when she saw the time. “Shit! I’m late for work.”
Her body bolted out of bed, but a brick wall of warmth surrounded her as the room faded away.
“Whoa. No work today, Abby.” John guided her back to her bed, and she wished his warmth had stayed wrapped around her just for a moment longer.
“What do you mean? It’s not the weekend, is it?”
“No, it’s Wednesday. But I talked to Margery, and she said, in no uncertain terms, that you are to take today off and rest.”
“You called my principal and told her I needed the day off?”
“Of course. I didn’t think you’d want to just not show up to work and have them worry about you. I wasn’t really sure of the call in procedure though, so I just started with her and hoped for the best.”
Her neck itched along the edge of her scar, just like it did every morning, and Abby absentmindedly scratched at it. Until she saw John’s eyes laser focused on the spot she was touching. The spot she hadn’t let anyone see since leaving the hospital. The spot that was no longer covered because she wasn’t wearing her work clothes.
“Oh god,” she squeaked, pulling the comforter up to her neck.
“What?” John sat on the edge of the mattress and placed his hands on either side of her hips. Holy hell. Forget about her scar, she could barely breathe with him caging her in on her own bed.
“You can’t… I mean, I don’t want you to see.”
“Abby.” She saw the instant he realized what she was talking about. “I’ve already seen it. You don’t have to hide it from me.”
“But it’s so ugly.”
“It’s still healing. And it’s a reminder of just how lucky we are that you’re still here.”
“We?”
“Yeah.” His hand went to the back of his neck, and Abby forced herself not to look at the veins on his arm. “Your family. The community.”
“Oh.” Well, that was an arrow right in her heart.
“And Katy and me.”
Oh, indeed. Apparently, Cupid himself delivered that arrow, because she felt like a teenager seeing her celebrity crush for the first time. She really needed to pull herself together.
Was it boiling in her room? Oh, no. That was just the blankets bunched up by her face. Abby lowered the blankets down, not daring to breathe as she watched John’s hand come up towards her neck.
No one had touched the scar except for her doctor. She hated touching it herself, especially in the fully numb spots where it hadn’t regained any feeling. No. She’d rather just forget it was there.
But then along came John. His finger grazed across the tight skin and a shiver rolled through her whole body.
“Why do you hide it?” he whispered.
“It’s hard to look at,” she answered, worrying the edge of her comforter. “The doctor said it’s a hypertrophic scar. Instead of healing and fading away, it’ll be red and raised for who knows how long. Years of looking at it and remembering what he did. What he took from me.”
“It’s also an incredible reminder of how strong you are. How tough and determined you were to survive.”
“All I see is how weak I was to be unable to get away,” she confessed.
“I don’t think you should keep it hidden anymore.”
“I have to. I can’t look at it.”
“Abby,” John scooped up her hand. “No more turtlenecks. No more jackets zipped up to your chin.”
“What? No. I need to wear them. I’ll scare the kids. What would I even tell them happened?”
“You will not scare them. Kids are resilient. You’ll be able to help them build empathy and understanding that each person has something that makes them unique. Yours just happens to be that you survived a psychopath’s attack and are one of the strongest women I’ve ever met.” His face reddened again. “Maybe leave that last part out, though, when you talk to your students.”
“You really think it would be okay to not cover it up?”
“Fuck yes. And I think today is a great day to start.”
“I normally don’t cover it up at home.”
“Good. Don’t on my account.” He stood. “Are you feeling okay enough to get up and have some breakfast, or do you need to stay in bed a little longer?”
“I’m fine. I promise. It’s down to a dull ache and will probably be gone after I eat something.”
“Okay.” John looked like he wasn’t sure whether he should stay or go.
“Give me just a second to use the bathroom and pull myself together and then I’ll come make breakfast.”
“I’ll give you a minute, but you aren’t cooking. I’ve got it handled.”
“Oh. Um, okay. Thanks.”
John nodded and shut her bedroom door quietly.
“You got me groceries?” Abby scanned at her counter, overflowing with grocery bags that certainly weren’t there when they walked in the door the day before.
She’d changed into a different shirt and shorts than the ones she’d been sleeping in, and couldn’t help but notice the smile that grew on John’s face as he watched her walk towards him in the kitchen.
“It’s not anything crazy. I just researched what was good to eat after a migraine and then made sure you had what they suggested. Emma wasn’t sure if you had any strong food preferences, so I just asked her to make sure there was a bit of everything.”
Her heart dropped. Emma couldn’t tell Sam she was sick. He’d freak and be pounding down her door as soon as he heard.
“She isn’t going to tell Sam what happened, is she?”
“I don’t think so. She did tell me she’d call you later to check in.”
“Okay. And as long as you aren’t about to force me to eat sardines, I think we’ll be fine.” She walked over to the counter where he was leaning against and reached out, her hand landing on his arm as she went to her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You didn’t have to do all this, but thank you. I don’t think anyone has ever taken care of me so well before.”
“I’m just glad I could help.”
“Is that why you did this?”
He froze. “What?”
“You stayed over. You got me groceries that would be okay to eat after a migraine. Because I’m always needing your help.”
“I stayed, I did this, because that’s what you do when someone you care about isn’t feeling well.”
“I’m someone you care about?”
“I thought that was obvious by now.” John’s demeanor changed. It was only slight, but she noticed immediately.
“What’s wrong?”
“We need to talk about yesterday.”
Shit. Of course. She’d passed out in front of Katy and he was probably thinking of pulling her out of class for subjecting her to such a scary event.
“You don’t think Katy is going to be scared of me now, do you? I’ll make sure she talks to the counselor at school if you think she’s going to have a hard time processing what happened yesterday. You know I adore her but if you want to switch her to another class, I completely?—”
“I’m sure Katy is going to be just fine.” He stepped back to lean against her sink, hands resting on the counter behind him. Abby took the sight of him in. Rumpled jeans from a night spent sleeping on her couch and a white shirt that was still molded to his body even after a day of wearing it.
Whatever brand that was, they needed to contact John about being a model because holy hell, the way the white fabric showed every muscle on his chest and stomach had her almost drooling. “This isn’t about her.”
Oh god, she needed to stop. She was ogling the poor man in her kitchen who was trying to have a serious conversation with her! “Okay…”
“If I hadn’t been there, what would you have done?”
“What do you mean?”
“What normally happens when you have your migraines? You call your mom or Sam to help.”
“Uh, sure.”
“No. You don’t. Do you?”
“I haven’t wanted to burden them more. Sam is killing himself trying to keep the ranch afloat and my mom has always been whimsical. You know, never really good with the tough stuff. That was always my dad. My mom wants to focus on being positive and crystal healing. I’d rather just take my prescription and sleep it off.”
“But you passed out yesterday. It was so bad that you literally collapsed to the ground.” John flinched, and the memory of her struggling to get to her car made her stomach sour. It had probably been so upsetting to see that happen to her. “Give me your phone.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I’m going to put my number in there and you’re going to use it the next time you aren’t feeling well.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes. Don’t be stubborn. Everyone needs someone to call when they need help. I want to be that person for you.”
Her jaw went slack.
“Why?”
“Because we’re friends. I care about you.” Friends. God, she wanted so much more. “And we’re going to start those self defense lessons. I’ll need your number to coordinate that.”
“Okay,” she whispered as she handed over her phone. He typed away for a few seconds before handing it back.
“Good. I’m in there now.”
She quickly looked at the contact information and laughed.
“Deputy Handsome?”
“It’s my official title with the department,” he smirked.
“Mm, yes. Feels very official. Did you assign a speed dial number to yourself?”
“Yep. You didn’t have any assigned, so I took the first one. And I want you to use it. If you aren’t feeling well again and don’t want to bother Sam or your mom, I want to be the one you call.”
“Thanks, John.”
He placed his thumb under her chin and lifted her face so she was looking into his beautiful blue eyes.
“Abby. I don’t think you understand what I’m saying. Use the number. Anytime. Promise me.”
“I…” God, what was it about him? There was some unspoken chemistry with John that made her just want to rip up her clothes and lay bare in front of him begging for his touch. Jesus, she needed to get a grip. This was her student’s father. The man who saved her because it was job. “Yes. I’ll call.”
“Good girl. So, what sounds good to you? I was thinking some watermelon, because it’s hydrating and will be easy on your stomach. But if that doesn’t sound good, I also got some avocados and a nice sourdough. We could make avocado toast.”
Abby laughed as she sat down on the bar stool. “Avocado toast? How hipster of you.”
John raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Am I too old to be a hipster?”
“It’s not that. I just think more ‘mountain man, possessive alpha hero’ than hipster when I think of you.”
“I don’t know what to say to that. Is that a good thing?”
“Oh, it was definitely a compliment. You’re like every one of my favorite romance novel heroes rolled up into a real man.” Abby’s mouth snapped shut as she realized what she was saying. “Yeah, so I don’t know why it made me laugh, it just did. Avocado toast and watermelon sound perfect. But I’m helping. It’s not fair you bought me food and then have to prepare it for me.”
“Sit.” He pointed with the end of the bread knife he pulled from the drawer. “I’m taking care of you. No fighting me on it.”
She let out a little huff as she sat across the counter from him.
“So, tell me more about these romance books.”