AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Normally that question would make me blush, but I’m too sick to let it. “Couch.” No energy to make it back upstairs.
Owen slips an arm around my waist, and I lean into his body, which smells like a combination of pine trees and heaven. It’s the first pleasant moment I’ve had all day. I lean a good amount of my weight on him because the weak knees are also fully in play.
He leads me into the living room and helps me onto the couch. I try to kick off the slippers but they’re just a bit too tight, and he gently takes my foot and removes one. I numbly hold out my foot to him, and he takes the other one off. Then he props a pillow under my head and spreads a throw blanket across my body. “I brought you some ginger candy. The lady at Just in Thyme said it would help.”
“Susannah. She’s a keeper.” She doesn’t believe in medicine, so she has all kinds of alternative ways to heal people.
“Would you rather have actual medicine?”
“I’d always rather have candy.” I manage a smile, and he disappears as my eyelids close, and all I can think is how nice it is to have him here.
I’m not a person who ever thought I’d enjoy being taken care of. I’ve spent a lot of time on my own. I like being on my own, being independent. I built a business—worked my tail off, really—and convinced myself I didn’t need help from anyone else.
But now, here, having someone doing the hard things that I can’t do. . .it’s everything.
Owen returns with a small brown paper bag of candy and the vase of sunflowers.
At the sight of them, my cheeks flush with embarrassment.
I feel like I’m caught, even though there’s no way for him to know they’re from Chad. As if he’d care anyway. . .
“Thought they might help you feel better,” he says.
He sets them down on the coffee table so carefully, the wall around my heart springs a leak. He pops open the bag of candy and tilts the opening toward me.
I take one, unwrap it, and stick it in my mouth. No idea if it’ll actually help, but I’m willing to try.
I sink further into the pillow. It’s cold, at least for now, until my face heats it up.
“Do you want to watch something?” he asks, sitting on the opposite end of the couch.
I crack a lid open and peer down at him, certain that from his perspective I’ve got at least two chins and a lazy eye. “You don’t want to spend your day here. I promise I’ll be okay.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” he says, a suspicious grin on his face.
I shift the pillow slightly and look away, smiling. “No.”
“Okay, then. Let’s watch something.”
“Okay, then.”
He opens Netflix and since it’s my account, most of the recommendations are for rom-coms or historical romances. He starts scrolling through them, and I feel a little embarrassed that he can see my watch history. Maybe he won’t notice.
“All of these title slides are of people kissing,” he says.
So much for that theory.
“I like romance,” I say.
“Okay, so what’s your favorite?”
I close my eyes. “Can’t pick just one.”
“Top six, then.”
I open both eyes. “Top six? That’s random.”
He shrugs. “Top six is better. It gives you one more to add to your list that should be in a top five but is left out.”
