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Laurel groaned like we were both too loud. I reached over and squeezed her knee gently. “How about you? Hungry?”
Her stomach growled loudly. She looked down at it with betrayal. “I guess.”
“What do you want?” I asked.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Marshmallows.” I gave her a look of silent suffering. She sighed, and her eyes danced to the ceiling of my car. “Something healthy… Uhm… cheese?”
I gave her an incredulous stare before returning my eyes to the parking lot. “Cheese? Like, what, a whole block of cheese?”
“Yeah,” Laurel said uncertainly.
“What are you?”
“A raccoon, I think,” she answered soberly.
After considering the very real possibility that Laurel would eat nothing but marshmallows and cereal once I left her, I got them both hamburgers and fries. And then it took everything in me not to hang around and worry about what the hell Laurel was going to do with a hyper five-year-old while she looked like her eyes were going to slam shut any second. But she assured me that she could handle things, even not feeling well, and it was nearly Calla’s bedtime, anyway.
I left them with medicine, instructions for taking it, and mentally catalogued some of Laurel’s worsening symptoms. Antibiotics didn’t always take, and with a severe case like hers, it was possible for them to taper off in efficacy after a couple of days. I reminded her of that, but I wasn’t entirely convinced she believed me.
Laurel followed me out of her front door after I’d dropped off the groceries for her, and she closed it behind her, leaning heavily against the black metal door with both hands still on the knob at her lower back. “Thank you again,” she rasped with a tired smile.
I tucked a stray loop of caramel hair behind her ear. “You can call me anytime. Seriously.”
Laurel literally looked like she was mentally building a wall brick by brick behind her jean-blue eyes. “Yeah.”
I tugged her earlobe. “Laurel, come on. I just strong-armed you into dinner with my family. If you don’t like me, you should tell me now.”
Concern flitted over her delicate features. “I like you,” she assured me. I raised my eyebrows meaningfully. “Look at how much I’ve upended your life in two days,” she pointed out. “You think it’s going to get any less hectic?”
I looked around like she’d spotted an alternate reality I’d missed. “Sorry, do I look harassed or something?”
“No,” she admitted grudgingly. Her voice had gone low and raspy, and I had to force my brain to not remember the way she’d moaned in my bed only hours earlier.
“My life is boring, Laurel,” I admitted. “None of this has been a burden. If it was, do you think I’d chase you around like I have been?”
“No,” she admitted again, looking to the side.
I slid a hand around the back of her neck and closed the distance between us, loving the feel of her skin beneath my fingers. “Do you want me to fuck off?”
“No,” she said quickly, her eyes flying to mine.
I quirked up a smile. “Okay. Then, I’ll see you soon.”
Laurel’s shoulders relaxed, like she’d released tension she’d been holding onto. “I’ll text you,” she promised.
I kissed her forehead, wanting more but knowing I’d already taken more than I should have that day. “Texting is good,” I agreed.
My phone rang. It was Clemens again, and I answered as I turned away from Laurel, giving her one last wave. “Hey, what’s up?”
“The family is here from Montana,” he said, and he sounded even more tired than he had been earlier in his shift. “Can you come in and talk to them?”
I checked my watch. It was nearly eight, which was the normal time for a night shift, anyway. “Yeah. Can you send Mack to pick me up? I’ll be at Second and Willow.”
“Car trouble?”
I glanced at my gleaming, brand-new SUV in Laurel’s parking lot. Smiling to myself, I said, “Nah. Would you believe me if I said it was actually good luck?”
“No,” Clemens responded gruffly. “I’ll send Mack. You sure you don’t mind handling the family?”
