Chapter 27
I opened my eyes. I always seemed to wake up at the same time, no matter what hour I’d gone to bed.
Six-thirty. I didn’t need to look at my watch that was resting on its charger on the nightstand; the soft light filtering through the window told me that would be the time.
Sometime during the night, I had turned over and my back was against Elijah’s chest once again.
His arm was draped over my waist, heavy, which told me he was still asleep.
His deep breaths in my ear verified that fact.
It had been a while since I’d woken with the weight of someone against me. I didn’t hate it.
The night before had been a lot. For anybody. I knew this. So much for being fun. I’d turned the sext into a cryfest instead, at some point drifting off to sleep as he held me.
I carefully slid out from beneath his arm, not sure how deep of a sleeper he was.
My mom usually didn’t wake up until seven-thirty or so, but with her late-night fall, I wondered if she’d sleep a little longer today.
I peeled off Elijah’s T-shirt and draped it over the back of my desk chair.
Then I pulled on my pajama shirt, buttoning it up as I headed for the door, phone in hand.
I would let him sleep until I heard my mom, then I’d wake him and send him on his way before she realized he’d been here. Again, like a sneaky teenager.
It wasn’t about that though—her scolding me. It was that I didn’t want her to be embarrassed that someone else had been here last night when she’d fallen. Okay, maybe it was a little of both.
I shut the door quietly behind me and went to the bathroom, where I brushed my teeth and hair and used the toilet. Then I headed to the kitchen to start some coffee. I checked my phone for any messages. There was one from Mac, the food delivery guy.
Need to change to 6:45 in the am.
He’d sent that last night around nine. How had I missed it? I immediately called Raya. She answered with a sleep-deep voice.
“Emergency?”
“No, Mac changed the time to six forty-five for today.”
“He did not. That’s in like ten minutes.”
“Can you get there?”
“No. I’ll be there at seven, like every time he comes.”
“Please, try. I’ll call him.”
“Ugh. He’s doing this on purpose.”
“Hurry,” I said, then ended the call and dialed Mac.
“Hello,” he answered, the engine noises in the background let me know he was already on the move.
“I just got your message. You know she has a hard enough time being there at seven.”
“I do know, because she’s late every time, Sutton. Every. Time.”
“So are you just saying six forty-five so she’ll be on time today, or do you really need her at six forty-five?”
He laughed.
“Gotcha,” I said. “Probably a good strategy.”
“Work smarter, not harder,” he said.
I shook my head. “Next time, text her.”
“Really?” he asked.
“What do you mean ‘really’?” I said, confused.
“You told me to always text you. I don’t even know if I have her number.”
“Oh, right.” Shit. I really was a control freak. A boring, predictable control freak. “I’ll send it to you.”
“Can’t wait to start bugging her.”
I laughed.
“FYI,” he said, “you might want to do an inventory of the kitchen. Not sure if that’s been done since you’ve been gone. I think you’re ordering way too many potatoes.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I carried a box inside Friday and added it to, like, four other unopened boxes.”
“Yeah, take that off the list for your next delivery this week.”
“Will do.” I ended the call and forwarded Raya’s contact info to Mac, then opened my email.
Along with a whole lot of spam, a message from a call center company about reserving the patio for a team dinner waited.
I leaned my butt against the edge of the counter.
To my left, the coffeepot bubbled and hissed as I replied, offering available times.
Next, I started an email to the team about inventory.
“It’s too early to be working,” a low voice to my right said.
I glanced over to see Elijah standing in the entryway to the kitchen, watching me. He was fully clothed and I was weirdly disappointed by that fact. I should’ve kept his shirt on.
“Yeah,” I said. “Well, time stops for no one.”
“Do I need to sneak out of here?” he asked, looking down the hall and then back at me.
“Soon,” I said.
He walked closer until he stood in front of me, then braced his hands on the counter on either side of me. I still had my phone up, thumbs on the screen, email not quite composed.
“Personal space,” I said with a smile.
He kissed me on the forehead. “Who’s even awake at six thirty in the morning to be conducting business with?”
“Delivery drivers, food suppliers, restaurant owners.”
He smirked.
“Is the boxing gym not open this early? People don’t go before work?”
“It is. Our front desk person is there, opening. But I don’t go in until eight.”
“The perks of running the place.”
“So many perks,” he said sarcastically. He kissed me. His mouth tasted like toothpaste. He must’ve found my tube on the counter in the bathroom. Or maybe he carried a travel toothbrush on all his late-night booty calls.
“How are you feeling this morning?” he asked, straightening up, then turning in a circle.
“What are you looking for?”
“A mug.”
I pointed to the cupboard above the coffee maker, and he pulled two out, pouring us each a cup.
I finished my email and hit send, then placed my phone on the counter. “I feel fine,” I said. “I’m sorr—”
“Don’t,” he said, stopping my words short. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
I sighed, not sure that was true but too tired to argue. “I need to call the doctor.”
“The doctor?”
“About my mom’s fall last night.” I plucked a pen from the junk drawer and wrote a note on the pad I kept on the counter for when I had thoughts like that.
“When the office opens. Ugh. I wish I could go down to LA for the weekend. I need to do inventory and analyze the space again.” Maybe being there would inspire ways to give it more personality.
“Your mind never shuts off, does it?” he asked.
“It did for a little while last night.”
“When?” he asked, pretending not to know what I meant. He lifted the mug of coffee. “Do you take cream or sugar?”
I nodded, opening the fridge and retrieving the vanilla creamer. I moved to his side and poured until the coffee was a light brown instead of black. I held out the bottle for him, and he did the same.
“How about a do-over?” he said. “My place? Tonight?”
“I…” I carried the mug to the table, sitting down there. “I can’t leave her alone after what happened. I’ll … I can’t.”
He joined me.
“I mean,” I continued, “if I schedule Lucy from the home health facility or maybe during the day when she’s…” I trailed off. I knew I wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving again until she saw the doctor.
He put his hand over mine. “I get it. Don’t worry. There will be time.”
I nodded and pinched the bridge of my nose. Would there be time?
“Come here.” He pulled me by the hand onto his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck, resting my cheek against his head. The tension in my shoulders seemed to pour down my spine until I felt like a puddle in his arms.
I wiggled in his lap, rubbing my ass along his groin.
He chuckled and squeezed my sides. “Are you hungry?”
“Hungry?” I shifted, attempting to straddle him and doing a very poor job. He must’ve sensed my goal because he assisted me in the process, moving my leg into place.
“I can go pick up some food,” he said while I kissed his neck and then cheek.
“Some food?” I asked, moving my mouth to his, running my tongue along his lips.
“Your attempts to make my questions euphemisms are not working.”
“They feel like they’re working,” I said, pressing myself against his erection.
“Your body on me is definitely working, but my words are not sexy.”
I laughed. It had been a while since I felt this light.
The power of a good cry, probably. Or maybe this man.
Yes, that was likely the reason, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
I didn’t like my emotions to be dependent on anyone, let alone a man.
But that was a weakness, I reminded myself. One that needed to change.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, still kissing him.
“See, now I’m confused, because I don’t know if you mean this”—he palmed my breast—“or actual food.”
I smiled. “I think we have eggs. I can make eggs.”
“Eggs?” he said suggestively, teasing me.
“I get it. It doesn’t work.”
He chuckled. “You are the cutest.”
I gave him one last kiss, then climbed off his lap. “I’m going to make you eggs.”
I opened the refrigerator and pulled out the carton of eggs, spinach, peppers, cheese, and some heavy whipping cream. From the cupboard I grabbed some spices. And just as I was about to get a pan, the bell sounded from down the hall.
I met Elijah’s eyes.
His brows popped up in surprise. “She rings for you?”
“To avoid a repeat of last night, it’s necessary.”
“Do you want me to stay? I can help. Lift her out of bed, get her into the wheelchair.”
I started shaking my head before he had even finished his thought. “No, I just need to … no … it’s … no.”
He stood from the table, put his mug in the sink, and then pulled me into a hug. “You need to take care of yourself.” His hands went to my shoulders, where he rubbed at a knot with his thumb.
“She’ll recover. It’s not like this is my life,” I said. “I can do anything for a short amount of time.”
Her bell rang again.
“Coming, Mom!” I called out. “Give me a minute!”
“I’ll get my shoes,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be.” He kissed me soundly, then we both went our separate ways. Him to leave, me to take care of my mom.