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His eyes soften and the slowest, most adorable smile tips the corner of his mouth. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to,” I say without mentioning the pep talk from my friend.
“Thank you.”
I nod and go back to the kitchen. When I return with his soup, he’s asleep with the blanket pulled up to his chin. I stop and stare, admiring him from afar. God, he’s gorgeous.
While he’s sleeping, I clean up the bathroom and wash his sheets. I feel odd doing that, but he’d clearly sweat through them. Besides, his room is so organized that as long as I don’t snoop, I won’t find anything he wouldn’t want me to.
He’s in and out throughout the day but mostly out of it until seven o’clock, when he says he’s going to try to take a shower.
“Are you sure you can stand?” I ask.
He laughs, a sign he’s feeling better. “If I fall, call 9-1-1.”
“Seriously, Van. I can’t help you if you hit your head.”
His hand touches mine. “I’m fine, honestly. Thank you for today. I owe you a big favor, so name it whenever.”
Automatically, the question, Will you have sex with me to help me get over my dead husband so maybe I can move on? comes to mind, but I just smile at him. “I’m sure you’d do the same for me.”
“Definitely.” He winks and the bathroom door clicks shut a moment later.
I throw myself in the chair, my legs flailing like a toddler having a tantrum. Why the hell does he have to be so damn hot? It would make this whole situation a lot easier if I wasn’t attracted to him.
Twelve
Van
I’m off today, so as a thank-you for Brinley taking such good care of me the other day when I was sick, I decide to bring her lunch.
But when I pull up to Bailey Timber, I’m reminded it’s not some mom-and-pop shop she’s being groomed to take over. In fact, there’s a gate and a guard before I can even get on the property. And since Brinley doesn’t know I’m coming, I’m not sure what’s about to happen.
The guard glances my way, and for a second, he looks as if he’s just going to open the gate, but then he does a double take. I roll down the window and the crisp fall air enters the car.
“Do you have an appointment?” he asks.
“No. I’m here to see Brinley Kelly.”
He cringes as though he wishes I would’ve said anyone else. “Let me call up there.”
We both look toward the big office building that resembles a log cabin, which makes sense given that it’s a lumber company.
“Listen, I’m her roommate and she recently did something really nice for me. I’m trying to repay her by surprising her with lunch. If you could let me get in there…”
He holds up his gloved hand. “No can do. If you don’t have an appointment, I can’t let you up.” He steps toward the phone in the booth.
I have no specific reason for him not to call Brinley. If he calls, I’m sure she’ll let me up, but I’ll have lost the element of surprise. And for whatever reason, I really want to see her reaction when she realizes why I’m here. So, because desperate times call for desperate measures and all that, I blurt out, “Call Savannah Kelly.”
He stops middial and looks at his partner. The expression on the guard’s face radiates more fear than when I said Brinley.
“Um…”
“Please, just call her. She knows me. Tell her I’m surprising Brinley.”
He blows out a breath, looks toward the other guy, who nods, and dials the phone.
Thank fuck.
