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As if she knew exactly what I meant, she hobbled over to the couch and jumped up on the couch before giving me a look. Chuckling, I followed her and laid down on the couch, groaning as I realized I’d have to sleep in my jeans. Maybe I should have gone home. Before I could act on it, Cherry clambered up on my chest and sat down, her wild hair tickling my nose. I pushed the hair away before running my fingers through the long hair. I’d seen pictures of Maltese dogs, but most of their owners kept their hair trimmed down. Not Brady. Instead, Brady had taken the fur around her face and tied it with a bow on top of her head, making her look like she had a cute little ponytail.
My thoughts turned to Brady as I petted the tiny dog. It had barely been a week, and Brady had quickly become so important to me. I knew part of it was the fact that Brady was helping me figure myself out, but even without that, I enjoyed hanging out with him. He was funny, sweet, cheerful, and so kind. He was exactly the kind of man I’d want to date if I had a type. Or if I dated. I knew that if Brady asked me out—as unlikely as that was—I’d say yes without hesitation. But would he want to? Want me? He’d joked it off when I’d asked him if he was asking me out, and that should probably be answer enough for me.
I was such a mess. I didn’t even know who I was. What could Brady ever find attractive about me?
I shook the question away and buried my fingers deeper into Cherry’s fur and closed my eyes. Thankfully, the couch wasn’t too uncomfortable, and it didn’t take me long to fall asleep.
When I woke up, it took me a moment to remember where I was. Brady’s house. Right. Brady was sick, and I’d come over to take care of him and decided to sleep here.
I got off the couch, pleased to see Cherry still asleep on the other side. I wondered if getting a dog myself would be a good idea, but then shook it off. I already had too many things to deal with at the moment, and getting a pet only to leave them alone at home all day didn’t sit well with me. So I peppered some kisses on top of Cherry’s head before making my way to the hallway bathroom. I freshened up, though grabbing a shower would have to wait.
I decided to make Brady a breakfast before waking him up and headed into the kitchen. Last night, I’d only been here long enough to heat up the soup, but I’d seen enough to know that he only had a loaf of bread and some eggs. I sliced the bread to make some toast and turned on the coffee machine. Just as I was about to start on the scrambled eggs, I heard the clicking sound of Cherry’s nails on the hardwood floor and realized Brady must be awake. Putting down the eggs, I wiped my hands before heading into his room.
Brady was on his feet, his palm pressed against the wall, though he wasn’t moving at all. It was clear he’d been trying to get to the bathroom. I rushed to his side, pulling him toward me and holding him steady as I led him to it. Once he was inside, I closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall, head turned toward the bathroom so I’d know if he stumbled or fell. I heard the water running after a few minutes, and the door opened, Brady’s face pale and slightly sweaty, his eyes squinted as if he couldn’t bear the soft morning light that filtered through the drapes. I turned to him, placing my arm against his shoulders as I said softly, “Put your arm around my—Or just fall on me, that works too,” I mumbled as he leaned against me like dead weight. I contemplated what to do for a second before leaning down and hooking my other arm behind his knees and pulling him into my arms. I covered the few feet of distance between us and his bed before laying him down and covering him with blankets. I grabbed the thermometer and took his temperature, frowning when I realized it hadn’t gone down much. Should I take him to the hospital? Or would he get better soon?
First, I was going to finish making breakfast for him. Once he had some food inside him, I’d worry about the rest. I wiped the hair off his forehead and pressed a kiss there before leaving the room. I scrambled the eggs, toasted the bread, and filled a glass with some orange juice I found in the refrigerator—after checking its best-by date. I set everything on a tray before making my way back to Brady’s room. I placed the tray on the dresser and took him in. In the time it had taken me to make breakfast, Brady had managed to fall back asleep.
I gently shook his shoulder as I tried to wake him. “Brady? I made you some breakfast. Wake up.” It took a few minutes of gentle—and not so gentle—shaking before Brady finally woke up, looking at me through bleary eyes.
“Charlie?” he mumbled in a thick voice, and I helped him sit up in bed, folding the blankets around him when he shivered. “What are you doing here?” he asked, and I looked at him with wide eyes.
“What?” I asked, sure he could clearly see the confusion etched on my face.
“What are you doing here?” He said it slowly, as if I was having problems hearing him correctly. I sputtered for a second before realizing that his fever had probably made him too out of it to process my presence before.
“You told me last night that you were sick, so I came over to take care of you,” I told him with a shrug as I brought the breakfast tray to him.
“You took care of me? You stayed the night?” He looked so completely confused that it made me chuckle.
I placed the tray in his lap and waved at it as I spoke, “Yes and yes. I slept on the couch with Cherry. Once you’re done eating, I’m going to the grocery store because for someone who owns a place people come to eat at, your kitchen is awfully stocked.”
Brady’s cheeks flushed darker as he grabbed a spoonful of eggs and stuffed them in his mouth. “I can’t really cook, so I don’t keep much in the kitchen.”
“Well, lucky for you, I can. So I’m gonna stock it with enough food for the rest of the week. I’ll stay here until you’re better anyway, but even if I don’t, I’ll leave some dishes for you.”
“Why are you taking care of me, anyway? I mean, not that I don’t appreciate it, but why? I didn’t ask you to, did I?” He had a horrified look on his face, so I quickly shook my head.
“No, nothing like that. It’s just in my nature, I guess. I know we haven’t known each other for long, but I consider you a friend, and when you said you were sick, I just couldn’t stop myself from coming over.”
Brady drank some of the orange juice before looking back at me. “But won’t it disrupt your schedule? And what about work?”
“Er, I’m kind of between jobs at the moment, so I don’t really have a schedule. I haven’t had time to look, honestly, and I’m not really sure what I want to do either.” I’d spent all the time since graduation working at my dad’s pharmaceutical company, and I knew I didn’t want to do a desk job anymore, but I wasn’t sure what I did want to do.
“Why don’t you find a position that involves cooking, since you love it so much?” Brady asked, and I realized he was right. Cooking would never be a desk job, and I already enjoyed doing it, so why not?
I bit my lip. “Do you need some kind of qualification or something to work as a chef? I have no clue.”
“I don’t think so, but I do know someone who’s looking for a chef.”
“You do?”
Brady nodded before grinning at me, his fever-flushed cheeks bright red. “I know this guy who runs a café. He wants to include some lunch and breakfast options on the menu. There won’t be a lot to do, and you’ll probably be free to go after the lunch rush, but he’s a cool guy, and you will enjoy working for him.”
It took me a minute to realize he was talking about himself, but when I did, I grinned back at him before I processed the fact that he was really offering me a job. “Are you sure you want me? I mean, I have zero experience working in a café.”
Brady gave me a bright smile, his green eyes twinkling merrily as he spoke. “Oh, I definitely want you, Charlie. And don’t worry about the experience. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”
Had he meant that to sound dirty, or was I reaching? The sparkle in his eyes and his grin told me he’d definitely meant the innuendo.Well, hell.
