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“Do not take your top off,” he barked.
She shied back, unsure what he was talking about. “What? I wasn’t going to do that. And I’m in a gown. Although I feel like I should be insulted by the horror in your voice as you said that.”
He rubbed his temple. “Sorry. I . . . I was just thrown back to another situation. And I’m tired. Don’t worry about it.”
She frowned, totally confused.
“Someone I know . . . she spat some water, then took off her top to wipe it up just before I opened the car door. I don’t want anyone seeing you without a top on. I’d have to kill them.”
“You threaten to kill people a lot. You should probably get someone professional to examine that urge. Before someone takes you seriously.”
“Everyone takes me seriously,” he countered as she grabbed some tissues.
“Right. Come here,” she told him.
“Yeah, girl. That’s not happening. I clean you up. Not the other way around.”
“That’s a weird rule,” she said as he grabbed the tissues from her hand and used them to dry his face.
“Still a rule. Remember that.”
“Oh, I’m not very good at remembering things,” she said softly, tiredly. She slumped back on the bed, glancing down at herself. “Who put me in this gown?”
“The nurse did. They made me wait outside while they checked you over.”
“I’m surprised you listened.”
“They brought the security guard out. Not that I was worried about that, I could take him. But I didn’t want to end up in a jail cell and leave you alone.”
“You changed your clothes.”
“Had a suitcase in my rental. I got the guy your friend sent over to guard the door to go get it for me.”
There was a knock on the door and a smiling older man stepped in, holding a tray of food. “Breakfast. I’ve got you some scrambled eggs, bacon, and a toasted muffin. What would you like to drink?” He put the tray down on the nightstand and Gray started pulling off the covers.
“Do you have chocolate milk?” she asked hopefully. She deserved chocolate milk.
She’d nearly died.
That thought sent a cold chill through her body.
“Yes, we do.”
“Do not give her that,” Gray ordered. “She won’t be eating this, either. It is likely full of preservatives. I’ve put in an order from a delivery service.”
“Gray!” she said shocked. “The food will be fine.”
“No. Fine isn’t good enough. You need the best to build up your strength and immune system and this crap won’t help.”
The man gaped at him. So did she. What was going on with him? He’d never cared before what she’d eaten.
All right, so he’d been rather disapproving of her Pop-Tart addiction. But nothing like this . . .
“I like chocolate milk.” Truth be told, she didn’t feel like much else.
“It’s full of sugar. You’ve been living on sugar. You need good, nutritious food. You can take this back,” he said to the man.
She mouthed the word sorry at the other man, who disappeared out the door.
