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“Damn sandwich,” I said before finally drifting off.
When I opened my eyes again, Ashlyn had left an offering on the floor by my trash can. The water bottle tempted me, but the crackers make my stomach surge again in warning. I settled on a few sips of water before curling back into a fetal position and easing my phone out from under my pillow.
My eyes glazed over as I scrolled through the emails before opening my messaging app to see what the damage was there.
Twelve unread messages. Not terribly shocking. What grabbed my attention was the fact that the four of them were all from the same number. One I hadn’t expected to see.
Brady Martinez: Peter mentioned you weren't feeling well. Do you need anything?
Brady Martinez: How are you feeling?
Brady Martinez: If you don’t text me back by noon, I’m calling Ashlyn to check on you.
Brady Martinez: I called Ashlyn. Cecelia Grove, you better respond or I’m coming over there.
I chuckled at the last one, sending another wave of cramps through my midsection. But for now, the contents of my stomach, what little was left in there, stayed put. I held my phone close to my face and carefully texted a response.
Cici Grove: Sorry, I’ve been out most of the day. Feeling a bit better.
Brady Martinez: I was just about to head over there with some soup.
Cici Grove: No, please. I can’t even handle the thought of soup right now.
Brady Martinez: Raincheck on the soup, then.
Cici Grove: Are you always this nice?
Brady Martinez: My mama raised me right.
Cici Grove: Good for her. Going to sip some water and fall back to sleep. Don’t send the troops. Or the food.
Brady Martinez: Noted. Feel better, Cecelia.
Cecelia. I smiled at the phone. After that spectacular Saturday night, things had been a bit strained between us. I knew it was because he believed we had something special. And because I still couldn't wrap my mind around dating someone like Brady Martinez while I worked to keep my family’s company open.
Brady Martinez didn’t lightly or casually date. I could tell that, even from our limited interactions. He wanted me, but he wanted all of me. Even the parts I wasn't sure I was ready to share.
And so he’d been waiting. The occasional caress as we passed in the conference room. The way his eyes went hot and dark when they met mine across the table. It was enough to make me ache. To make my body twitch with need every time we got close. Just enough to light up my skin and make me consider using his private office for something more private and less office-y.
“Can I come in?” Ashlyn whispered from the crack in the door.
I shifted slightly. “Sure, I’m a little less projectile, I think.”
“That’s a relief,” she said, but at the same time I noted that she kept her distance from me. I would’ve teased her if I’d had the energy to try.
“Do you need anything? I’m going to hop on this call in twenty, and then I’m meeting Liam for dinner.” Ashlyn looked at me suspiciously. “Are you going to be able to get home?”
“Yeah of course,” I lied. No way, Jose, was I leaving this couch anytime soon. “I’ll load up here in a few minutes and go in search of sustenance.”
“You’re sure? Liam and I can swing by after dinner…” She looked at me, worry etched in every lovely inch of her face. I immediately felt guilty.
I re-tucked the blanket up to my neck, forcing a smile to my face and hoping it came off legitimate. “No, no. Absolutely not. You two have fun. Go do ‘engaged people’ things.”
“‘Engaged people’ things?” Ashlyn snorted a laugh.
I stared out of my pile of blankets. “You know what I mean. Get out of here.”
“If you change your mind, just shoot me a message.” Ashlyn stood, the textured skirt she wore swirling around her slender form.
