Chapter 17
JULES
S he wasn’t sure what to say to Riley about their moment . What she wanted was too heavily tangled up by the reality of her situation.
She didn’t break her rules because they were the only thing that ensured she’d continue to be hired and have the chance to travel. To run from the life laid out for her.
But they wouldn’t have to have the conversation about it today after all.
In fact, Jules was fairly certain she wouldn’t be doing much of anything as the late morning sun cast a warm glow through the apartment.
Because there was no way she would be able to peel herself off the cool tile of the bathroom floor to go to the ranch.
She had little sense of time. But based on light, she imagined that she was on hour nine or ten of her body trying to violently purge the slightly expired chicken she cooked for dinner last night.
Closing her eyes, she drew her focus to the refreshing chill of the white ceramic hexagons against her cheek. This is where she had slept, too weak to move back and forth from the bed to the bathroom. She was certain the hexagon pattern was now imprinted down her left side.
Luckily, she’d felt good enough to change into her favorite silk sleep shorts and matching bralette.
The set was breathable and cool, even cooler when paired with the floor.
Which was good, considering the fever that had her burning up last night.
In the last few hours, she was experiencing drastic shifts between having chills overcome her and the return of sweltering heat.
She was busy contemplating her ability to walk to the kitchen for water when a knocking echoed through her empty apartment. It was too sturdy of a knock to be Maddie. The heavy raps sounded more like they were coming from a man’s hand.
Foolish optimism filled her thoughts with the notion that it was Riley looking for her. And while she had to admit the thought was far-fetched, there wasn’t really a more likely explanation. It was odd that someone was knocking at all.
Before long, the sound ceased, and the creak of a door opening replaced the silence. Apparently, it was important to still lock doors in a small town after all.
“Jules?” A familiar voice drifted through the air. “It’s Riley. Are you here?”
Her heart pulled all the energy she had to somersault in her chest. He had come looking for her. She didn’t remember a time when anyone had done that—anyone except Maddie, really.
“Jules?” he called again, his voice mingling with the sound of his steps entering the apartment.
“ Here ,” she choked out, her throat was raw from all the heaving it had been doing.
A clacking sound on the wood floors of the living room and bedroom continued until a pair of square toed leather boots stopped in her eye line.
Without hesitation, he dropped to a knee at her side, taking her face in his hands. His embrace was a welcome comfort, and she nestled into it greedily.
“Are you okay? What happened?” There was an urgency in his tone. She wondered how ill she must look to bring that out in him.
“Food poisoning,” she managed.
Gently, he smoothed her hair back from her face. “You’re too hot,” he said decidedly. “When is the last time you had any water? Or even got off this floor?”
“Um, well it’s morning now so… after dinner last night?”
“Shit,” he growled. “That’s too long. Why didn’t you call me?”
Riley cradled her to his chest, sliding an arm under her legs and rising. She felt small—and secure—in his embrace. But moving was a bad idea.
“No, I need to stay there in case I get sick again,” she protested.
“I’ll bring you something to get sick in.”
“I need the cold floor.”
“I’ll get you something to cool you down too,” he replied calmly.
It was just a few steps to go from her en suite bathroom across to the bed. Setting her down atop the fluffy duvet, he was delicate as he adjusted a pillow under her head.
“You have an answer for everything,” she huffed. She wouldn’t admit that it was certainly more comfortable on the bed.
A deep chuckle escaped him as he dragged his thumb down her cheekbone, light as a feather. Then he turned and stepped back out to the living space.
She watched through the doorway as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, stopping back in the bathroom to run a towel under what she assumed was cold water before returning to her side.
“Drink.” He crackled open the bottle and held it out to her, laying the towel across the back of her neck as she obliged. The water chilled her from the inside, calming her angry, scratchy throat along the way.
Once the bottle was empty, he took a seat on the bed beside her. Dropping a hand to her thigh, he slid it up and down her leg soothingly.
“How can you be here, what about the horses?”
“Coop’s covering things for me, don’t worry.”
Maybe it was her illness fogging her brain, but she felt speechless as his response sank in. She couldn’t remember the last time someone put her before work or dropped everything so readily to show up. Not since her grandfather, she suspected.
Yet, here was Riley. Despite her attempts to keep things uncomplicated, he was here.
“Why did you come looking for me?” she asked.
“I was…” he started, rubbing his other hand along the mustache that was nearly back to its original glory. “I was worried you were avoiding me. After yesterday.”
She wanted to reach for him, to smooth out the pinch in his brow and assure him that she wasn’t regretting the path they started down yesterday. Even if it was complicated. But as she tried to sit up, dizziness seized her.
“Easy. Just lay back down.” Riley’s voice was back to the sense of urgency from when he arrived.
“Then come down here with me,” she complained, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes with the hopes that it would stop the room from spinning. It didn’t help. A groan escaped her. “I hate feeling dizzy.”
“I’ve got you,” he assured her.
She could feel the bed shifting and her body rocking from his weight now stretched out beside her.
He was lying on his side, and he tucked her in against his chest and brought his arm around to envelop her in his embrace.
His fingers dragged up and down her side now as he said, “Just breathe. Nice and steady.”
“I wouldn’t have avoided you.”
His lip lifted ever so slightly. She liked his soft smiles, they seemed reserved for her too.
“I’m glad. But we don’t need to talk about it right now. You need to rest.”
“I get bored when I’m resting. And in my head,” she admitted.
“On a shoot in Canada, I got the flu pretty bad. I didn’t leave my hotel room for three days.
The only time I talked to anyone was ordering room service, and that wasn’t even until the second and third days.
I hated just sitting there thinking about how cruddy I was feeling. It made all the symptoms feel worse.”
He tightened his hold on her, dropping his nose to the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere. We’ll keep you out of this head of yours.” Then after a breath he added, “Your hair still smells like you—even after all the sweating and being on the bathroom floor.”
“You smell my hair?” She blinked up at him in surprise.
“Mhm, it’s floral and something else. I can’t put my finger on it, so instead I’ve just started to associate it with you.”
“Orange blossom and honey. My shampoo is orange blossom and honey.”
She leaned in tighter against him, her fingers lazily trailing down the front of his heathered gray tee.
Despite her best efforts to keep a clean line between them, with this simple acknowledgement he erased yet another piece of it. Her line was feeling more like a tiny threat these days. What that meant about her reputation at the ranch, she wasn’t sure.
“Still dizzy?” he asked against the top of her head, his lips brushing across her hair.
“Actually, no. Not really.”
“Good. Maybe we can get some more sustenance in you then.”
“When I was sick as a kid, my mom would make me ginger lemonade.” She sighed at the memory of being snuggled deep in her blankets, her parents coming in together to check on her, and a tray of freshly mixed ginger lemonade carried into her bedroom with care.
Her parents were always together back then, doing everything as a team. But their closeness stopped. Then the homemade lemonade stopped.
“Did it help?”
“It did. I’m not sure how much was mental—me deciding it would make me better because that’s what she would tell me. But it was so good either way.”
Withdrawing his phone, Riley started clicking through his contacts. “Let’s see what I can do then.”
“No, I don’t expect you to?—”
“I bet Lou’s got lemons and ginger downstairs.” She knew Lou was the owner of the bakery below this apartment because Maddie had introduced her once.
She felt certain that despite her protests, Riley would be making this lemonade happen. Loosening a breath, she drew her attention to the steady rise and fall of his chest. She was happy to focus on the feel of his strong embrace instead of the hard tile floor pressing into her skin.
She was comfortable with him. This wasn’t like her other locations, her other jobs. In this familiar place—with him—she felt home.
Somewhere deep down, she always knew this would be the case. And she wasn’t sure if that made her want to smile or cry because as lovely as it felt to be taken care of, she still felt the constant, invisible tug from across the state line. She was tethered to a place she didn’t feel she belonged.
“What’s got you so quiet?”
She glanced up at his patient expression. “Just thinking about being sick on the road compared to here.”
At some point, his hand on her side had slipped under the band of her bralette. His thumb skimmed the outside of her breast as he smiled down at her. “Being here doesn’t count as the road anymore?”
“I can’t be held responsible for what I say when I’m deliriously ill,” she scoffed. “But… it is really nice to have someone here.”
“Someone?”
“ You ,” Jules conceded. “It is really nice to have you here with me.”
“But I can’t hold you to that—because you’re deliriously ill?” he laughed.
“Exactly,” she answered through a yawn.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, darlin’.”
“But… are you sure it’s okay? You being here? I can’t imagine Cooper taking over everything you do.”
“I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be,” he replied, his deep voice quietly serious.
“You owe him, don’t you?”
He grinned. “Oh yeah. But some things are more important.” She could hear the smile in his voice. Even as she closed her eyes, she could picture him looking down at her with that grin. Then she felt the smile as his lips pressed against her temple.
After a moment, she felt the vibration of a phone. “Lou has what we need, I’m going to run down real fast. Okay?” he whispered.
“Okay,” she replied, allowing him to slip from the bed and slide a fluffy pillow into his place beneath her. He must have been resting against it, because the pillow smelled like him. She breathed in happily, absorbed by the reminder of his presence. Soon, her fatigue won out.