Page 28 of Go Back to December

“You don’t know that.”

Baz’s gaze hits mine, checking in on me exactly like he did last night at the station. It’s as if he wants to be back on the same team again. Which is impossible.

“I’m not good at any of this.” I wave my hand at the medical equipment. “You should ask someone who is.”

He impatiently fists the thin hospital blanket. “It’s only for a few nights. I have a spare bedroom and bathroom.”

Of course I’d have to stay with him to help with the boots, but I can’t believe he’s asking me to do this, or why he thinks I’d accept, when he spent the last week—hell, probably the last few months—working on the deal that will shut down the café.

“Dooley will help,” I insist.

“If you knew anything about Dooley, you would never suggest that.”

What a total cop-out. Dooley rushed to the hospital too. And knew how to get hold of Baz’s family. While I’d like to think Lacy or Amal would check on me if I landed in the same position, I wouldn’t bet on it. We’re not that close, and people can be weird about hospitals. I certainly am.

So why the fuck am I still here? Do I really think I’m going to decode Baz’s crazy request to stay with him and pose as his holiday plus one?

Another nervous laugh cascades from my mouth. “You let them all think we’re together.”

“You let the hospital staff think we were married.” His voice carries more disbelief than amusement.

I hug my coat. “We have the same last name.”

“I know.”

The hoarseness in his voice and the possibility of what else he knows about me make my pulse race. “In all the chaos last night, I didn’t correct them because I thought…you might have needed a medical advocate. But now that your family’s here—”

“That only means I need an advocate more.” He shakes his head. “It will be easier for them to understand why you’d be staying with me for the holidays if they think we’re together.”

He’s not fooling me with his hushed, terse words. His family has him on edge, and I’m utterly flummoxed. That night at the Jungle House, he was counting down the days until the family winter vacation. He talked about their New Year carnival like it was the best night of his year.

What could have changed that? Whatever it was, it altered Baz, and he doesn’t want to change back. He wants to hide.

“You owe me,” he says.

“I owe you?”

He gestures to his bound legs.

Laughing like the villain I strive to be around him, I say, “I saved you.”

“I saved you first.”

“You wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t distracted me.”

“Distracted you?” He makes a face like he sucked on a lime. “How?”

You look perfect. “By torpedoing my café!”

“I’ll help you with the café.”

I’m so stunned at the turn in conversation I sink down on the chair. “But you want to shut us down.”

“I suggested we study it so they wouldn’t shut it down.”

“And you did that out of an altruistic sense of duty?”

“The café is good for the firm’s reputation. And morale.”