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With that, the meeting wrapped up.
And I ran around town, putting together a little basket to bring with me. After consulting every woman I came in contact with, I ended up with a nice robe—with a pattern of daisies on it, since that seemed to suit her—another pair of socks, slippers, some fancy lotion and lip balm, a weighted eye mask with lavender to help her sleep, a book from the popular section, and some snacks.
It felt a little impersonal.
But, I mean, I didn’t know her well enough to truly cater it to what she would want.
When I made my way into the hospital room, I found Sunshine settling her daughter back into the bed, her hair wet like she’d just taken a shower, or had at least been given a careful washing.
“Hey!” Savannah greeted me, shooting that megawatt smile at me. Screw what I said earlier to my Ma. She was brighter than the fucking sun.
“Oh, you must be Nino!” Sunshine said, shooting me a smile just as bright as her daughter’s one. “It’s so nice to meet you. We were snacking on that edible bouquet all day yesterday,” she said, walking over to me, and giving me a one-armed hug since my other one was holding the basket. “Oh, and look at this. You are too sweet,” she declared as I put the basket down on the empty rolling table. “I would love to sit and get to know you a bit, but I think I am going to rush out while you are here to take a shower and feed my cat.”
“And water our gardens,” Savannah implored.
“Yes, of course, darling,” Sunshine said, giving her daughter a smile. “Why don’t you have a seat? Stay a while,” her mother said before making her way out of the room, closing the door as she went.
“You have her smile,” I said when she was gone.
“Thank you,” Savannah said, taking it for the compliment it was. “You really didn’t need to bring me anything else,” she said, but her curious gaze kept slipping over to the basket, so I went ahead and started to pull out items, showing her what I’d brought.
“Want the socks now?” I asked, figuring the other pair were in a laundry bag since she’d gotten cleaned up.
“Yes, absolutely,” she said, wiggling her feet under the blanket. “And, I mean, I wouldn’t kick you out of bed if you gave me another massage,” she said, and I was having a hard time figuring out if she was just being cute and friendly, or if she was flirting.
Either way, though, I didn’t need a second invitation. I sat down at the end of the bed and let her rest her cold feet in my lap.
“I know,” she said. “I have the worst circulation,” she told me as I squeezed one of her feet between both of my hands.
“I should have brought electric socks,” I told her.
“They make those?”
“I didn’t know until I was in the store today either,” I said. “The lady at the store was worried about the access to enough electric sockets, though.”
“It’s going on my Christmas list,” she said, letting out a sigh as she relaxed back into the pillow as I pressed my thumb into the arch of her foot.
I now understood why so many massages between couples ended up in fucking. Because the way she was letting out little whimpers of approval was fucking with my system in ways that were decidedly not appropriate for the venue.
I kind of wished she would talk my ear off like she’d done at the restaurant, give me a distraction, but she seemed a little too into the massage to say anything.
I worked one foot, then the next.
Then, when she made no move to pull away, I worked the massage up her calves, easing the tension coiled there.
When I reached her knee on the second leg, I glanced over, finding her gaze fixed on mine.
And was that heat in it?
As if sensing the question and my uncertainty, one of her legs fell open to the side.
No, nothing was visible, under the cover of the blanket.
But I knew an invitation when I was being offered one.
And, hey, who was to say that my ‘owing her for life’ couldn’t involve as many orgasms as she wanted from me?
CHAPTER SIX
