“Outstanding,” I whimpered, tears swimming in my eyes.
Why on earth are there be so many nerve endings in the human toe?
And why the hell was May up so goddamn early?
But to my horror, Jeremy waved a gloved hand at me, stepping in behind her.
He wore a navy duffle coat that looked a little big on him.
He was followed by Elaine.
A crisp white fur-lined jacket hugged her waist with a golden buckle.
Her cheeks were flushed red, the tip of her nose rosy pink.
Her mouth twisted into something unpleasant. Disgust? Pity?
To make matters worse, she was accompanied by Charlene, whose glasses had fogged up?—
—which thankfully gave me time to tug my blanket back over my cleavage.
“Oh, you’re finally up,” Charlene said, taking off her glasses to rub the fog away.
Finally…?
I glanced at the clock above the kitchen door.
And froze.
I hadn’t been sleeping for minutes. But hours.
No—worse. Half the day.
The clock ticked its way dangerously close to 11:30 a.m.
Shit.
An apology ready on my tongue, I turned?—
—and nearly crashed into a wall.
Not a wall.
John.
He hadn’t come in from the patio but the hall.
His arms were full of firewood. His gaze found me, trailing down the bedsheet and back up to my Robert Smith hairdo.
I gritted my teeth.
“You poor thing,” Elaine said suddenly, dropping her coat—one that looked like it contained at least ten fluffy bunnies—over an armchair. “No wonder you didn’t join us this morning. You’re sick.”
My mouth dropped open.
Immediate snarky responses lined up on my tongue.
But then I noticed the stern crease between Charlene’s brows flatten into pity.
