Chapter 43
I return forty-five minutes later. It took me longer than I planned to find everything, but eventually I tracked it down, giddy with excitement at what I secured, and zoomed back to Jameson.
I don’t bother knocking when I return, and he didn’t bother locking the front door.
I don’t know if it’s because he thinks small towns are safe, or if he’s just that tired, but either way it makes it easier for me to sneak in while he stays tucked in bed—assuming he listened to my orders. We’ll see how stubborn he is.
I set the bags on the counter, pull out a few things, and wander around looking for the bedroom. He sure rented a big place for one person. It’s at least three bedrooms.
Finally, I find the master bedroom. He’s buried under a fluffy white comforter, fast asleep.
I tiptoe in and set a water bottle, a couple pills, some chest rub, and a few juice options on the nightstand beside him. I look down at him and can’t help but smile. He looks so relaxed and peaceful when he’s asleep, stripped of his stoic CEO mask. I like him like this.
At the risk of getting caught standing over him and staring like a creep, I quickly set down the last item on the nightstand and exit the room. He’ll see it when he wakes up.
**
I sit downstairs for two hours diddling on my phone in the kitchen. I try to find more information on Sonny or Elizabeth, but still nothing.
I play a few rounds of sudoku. Then solitaire.
Then I call Jess just to check in, which turns out to be a bad move, because my dad immediately gets on the line to ask why I’m calling only a few hours into my date and if I need an old-fashioned fake phone call bail-out.
I love him for it, and it makes me laugh. But I assure him everything is fine.
I pull up Jess’s blood-monitoring app. She’s fine—no alerts—but I’m bored so I check her numbers anyway. Just in case. Everything is good.
By now my stomach is growling. I peel back the plastic on the charcuterie board and start picking at it. There’s no point in waiting for Jameson. I doubt he’s eating much of anything today, but at least I can enjoy it. I haven’t eaten at all today, since I knew I was coming over here pretty early.
Finally, a voice from the top of the stairs startles me nearly out of my chair. My heart jumps as I turn to see Jameson. He’s grinning at me, wearing soft black joggers and no shirt, holding up the Lord of the Rings DVDs I left on his nightstand.
“You got these for me?”
“Yeah. You said it’s your favorite, so I figured they’re probably your comfort movies when you’re feeling under the weather.”
He looks down at me with a look that’s half appreciative, half sleepy.
“Come up here,” he says softly.
I hop off the stool and climb the stairs. He’s already back in the bedroom when I find him, chugging water with his back to me.
His muscles shift with every swallow, and his sweats hang low on his hips. If he weren’t sick, I’d pounce.
He turns, smiling sleepily as he gestures toward the TV. “How’d you know there would be a DVD player? People don’t use those anymore, right? And where did you even find this box set around here?”
“It’s a rental. They usually have all the options. And we do have stores here, you know. I got lucky.” I walk toward the TV, then stop and grin at him. “Sorry, would you have preferred VHS? Is that what you’re more comfortable with?”
He laughs, rubbing his jaw with one hand and planting the other on his hip. He looks down, shaking his head and hiding his smile. I try not to look at the bulge in his sweats, but man, he’s delicious even when sick.
“More old guy jokes? You’re going to kick a man when he’s already down?”
“You can handle it.”
He shakes his head again, still smiling.
“Or are you one of those guys who acts like he lost a limb when he gets a little baby cold?”
“Not one of those guys,” he mutters, though the exhaustion is already pulling at his face again.
“Will you get back in bed? I’ll set this up.”
“I can—”
“Get,” I order, pointing toward the giant bed.
He shakes his head but obeys, propping up a couple pillows before slumping back against the headboard.
I’d rather be doing other things against that headboard.
Dang it. Pull it together, woman. He’s sick. I’m here to take care of him—while staying far away. That’s it.
“You’re staring off into space, Carly. What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
I turn, peel the plastic off the movie bundle, and slide out the first disc. It feels very fun and nostalgic. I haven’t used a DVD in a long time.
“I have a confession…” I say.
“Don’t tell me.”
I turn back around just to watch his reaction. He already looks like I’m about to tell him his puppy ran away.
“I’ve never seen them.”
He smacks his forehead and squeezes his eyes shut in mock pain.
When he finally looks at me again, his expression is unreadable. “That’s really the kind of thing you should tell a man before he starts to fall for you, baby.”
I…did he just? My heart skips a beat. Or two.
Before I can respond, he gestures toward the soft sofa beside the bed. “I know you probably don’t want to be anywhere near my germs, but will you stay and watch with me?”
His eyes are heavy, already fading. I glance toward the dresser and notice how much nighttime cough syrup is gone. A lot. Not an alarming amount or anything, but still. He’s not going to make it ten minutes into this movie.
“Okay.”
I smile to myself and press play as I curl up into the couch.
When the intro begins, Jameson speaks softly beside me. “You know, when I was a preteen, I wasn’t very cool. The kids here in the U.S. thought I had a weird accent. And this was a different time. They were ruthless back then.”
He takes a breath, then coughs. I wait patiently, listening closely.
“On top of that, I was a bit of a bookworm—or a nerd, as one might say—and I didn’t have the incredibly handsome looks I have now. I was very skinny, a little awkward.” He smirks at me.
I shake my head, grinning, then rest my head in my hand, eager for him to continue. I want to hear every bit of this.
“Anyway, when the movies came out and blew up, and every other girl had a crush on Legolas, my accent was suddenly interesting. Even cool, to some. And it helped that I started to fill out a little bit as well. Not a lot, but…some.”
“Is that why they’re so special to you?”
He smiles, his eyes on the screen with an almost enchanted look on his face.
“No. I loved the books before these ever released. But I fell in love with the first movie the moment I saw it, before it blew up big-time. And there were still the kids who thought they were too cool and called us nerds, naturally.”
“Thank you for sharing that,” I say, grinning. “Can’t relate, though. I was always cool.” I lean back, fold my arms, and prop my feet up in front of me.
He throws a pillow at me, and we both have a good laugh.
But his coughing cuts through the laughter, and the moment ends when he leans over for a drink of water.
He looks exhausted, so I turn my attention back to the movie.
Before I know it, I’m completely immersed in the story. I even start the second movie, even though he fell asleep long ago. It’s nice—being near him, watching his favorite comfort movies while he rests, letting me take care of him.
He stirs on and off throughout the movies, and for the brief moments when he wakes, he’s surprised to find me there, still watching.
“Thanks for staying,” he says groggily, his eyes still shut.
“You’re welcome,” I whisper back.
I leave him by late afternoon, reluctantly, to pick up Jess. I didn’t even get to finish The Return of the King, sadly.