Page 3 of Love Everlasting

Chapter Two

Stupid fly. Sam Cunningham swatted at the insect, its stupid buzzing getting on his last nerve. It landed again, and he literally growled, flailing his arm to shoo it away. “Beat it, before I nail your butt to the wall.”

“Now that I’d like to see.”

Sam jolted up with a groan, drool smeared on the side of his mouth as he squinted into the eyes of an angel.

Okay, he couldn’t be dead because his head was pounding too hard, and dead people didn’t feel pain, right? Not unless … He shot straight up, head in a vice as he groaned in misery, kneading his temples. His stomach burned like the devil and his throat was so parched, it felt like it was on fire.

Uh-oh … fire!

Yep, he was dead.

And now, he was going to pay for his sins.

“You’re not going to throw up again, are you?” A quiet voice asked, soft with sympathy.

He glanced up at the angel through slits in his eyes, his voice barely a croak. “I might. Where am I?” he rasped.

“The back seat of my mother’s car, and I’m Jack’s sister Shannon in case you don’t remember.” She gently tugged on his arm, obviously hoping to remove him from the vehicle. “Which would be a miracle, given the brain cells you destroyed tonight.”

He grunted, gingerly attempting to unfold himself from the car while bowling balls ricocheted in his head. “I don’ believe in miracles.”

“You should—it’s a miracle you’re even alive after the alcohol you consumed.”

“Wish I wasn’t,” he muttered, hand to his eyes as he teetered on the sidewalk, limbs as limp as the crumpled tie dangling around his neck. He sniffed. “What’s that awful smell?”

“Vomit. You puked on your tie and shirt,” she said, the empathy in her tone now laced with a hint of a smile.

He groaned. “Noooo! This is my best tie—a Ralph Lauren black.” One eye opened a sliver. “Not in your car, I hope?”

“Nope, that’s miracle number three—you puked in the parking lot, so Jack and I cleaned you up with the wet wipes we keep in the glove compartment.”

“For sloppy drunks you cart home?” He managed to pry his eyes open all the way, noticing for the first time just how pretty she was.

“Nope, you’re my first.” She hooked an arm to his waist. “Ready?”

“Always,” he said with a smile that was worth the pain, “when there’s a pretty woman by my side.”

She paused, face in a pinch as she stared up with mouth agape. “Seriously? You’re going to hit on me when you can barely walk and smell like puke?”

He gave a faint shrug, smile sheepish. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

“I guarantee you, Dr. Cunningham,” she said in a stern tone tempered with tease, “the only thing you’re going to gain with comments like that is a whop alongside the head.”

“Ouch.” He grinned while she attempted to steer him toward his luxury villa with a strength and determination that belied her small size, her manner utterly patient when he stumbled several times. His hands shook as he fumbled to fish his keys from his pocket, striving for a smile that came out as a grimace. “I can take it from here,” he said, then froze, his keys promptly plummeting onto his brick front porch. Panic set in when he broke out in a cold sweat, mouth salivating like he was going to throw up …

Noooooooooooo!

Body heaving, he spun around to a potted palm just in time, retching into the planter for several agonizing seconds. He stood there, breathing hard while he remained bent over the poor plant, pretty sure he’d just puked up his intestines.

“Let’s get you inside,” a soft voice said, the gentle touch of a palm rubbing his back.

A groan scraped past his dry lips, and he white-knuckled the edge of the planter, not sure if the heat in his cheeks meant he was embarrassed or going to toss his cookies again. “Please go—I can take it from here.”

The caress of a hand to his back continued despite his objection. “I’m sure you can, Sam, but it remains to be seen if you’ll be sleeping out here next to a potted palm or inside in a clean, cozy bed. So, if it’s all the same to you, Doc, I have strict orders to get you down for the night before I leave, so I’m here till I get the dirty deed done.”

He rose slowly, wiping his mouth with his coat sleeve and feeling so much better after unloading his stomach, he actually managed a chuckle. “Ah yes, the ‘sober and sensible twin.’”