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Chapter 19
Sitting in his car watching the entrance to the admin offices at the Hearts Afire Resort and Spa, Gavin began to have second thoughts about his plan.
Up on the mountain, it had seemed like a good idea, waiting outside Gen’s office to surprise her when she came out, in kind of a reverse reenactment of her waiting outside the doctor’s office. He’d thought that Gen, with her sly sense of humor, would get a kick out of it. That’s how he’d seen it going down in his mind.
Now, actually sitting in a car with his eyes glued to the front door of a building and waiting for a woman who didn’t know he was out here to walk through it…well, he was about ten seconds from calling the police on himself, that’s how much like a creepy stalker he felt.
He was just about to chalk it up to a bad idea and drive away when she stepped through the glass door. He almost didn’t recognize her because of the oversized, opaque sunglasses she was wearing. It was the way his heart skipped that got his attention, the way it did every time he laid eyes on her. There was no mistaking it.
Well,he thought, it’s now or never.
He climbed out of his car and walked around to the front, then leaned casually against the hood with his arms crossed. He’d lucked out in finding a parking space right next to hers, so he figured he’d take advantage of it.
She didn’t see him at first. She was focused on digging her keys out of her purse as she walked. But when she was a few yards away, she pulled her overstuffed key ring out of her bag and looked up, pointing the fob at her car– and then froze in place as her eyes landed on his face.
She stood stock still for a moment, then sputtered, “Wait…what the…what…?”
He cocked his head to the side. “I thought this was what we did now. Just show up unexpectedly. Is this not our new MO?”
It took her a moment to process the words, but when she did, she threw her head back and laughed from deep within her belly. He felt a stirring in his chest. Her laugh had always been one of his favorite things about her, especially when it was one of those all-consuming laughs that she surrendered her entire body and soul to.
The only thing that could make one of those laughs better was when he’d caused it. So this moment, right here, was basically the pinnacle as far as he was concerned.
Until the laugh was cut short by her clutching her head and groaning, long and loud. He stepped forward, concern flooding him. “God, Gen, what’s wrong?”
She rubbed her forehead. “Oh, nothing. It’s just that my head is in the secure grip of a vise, and I just vomited all over my co-worker. No biggie.”
He drew his brows together. “Is that some kind of euphemism?”
She grunted. “No. God. Why does everyone think that? I mean I literally blew chunks all down Bernice Baxter’s chest. It was gross. And kind of weirdly satisfying. But mostly gross.”
“Are you sick?”
“Hungover.”
“Ah, got it. Well, come on. I’m driving you home and making you my surefire hangover cure.”
“It’s not necessary, Gavin. I’m actually feeling a lot better already.”
“I know it’s not necessary. It’s what friends do. Come on.”
She nodded, then, and walked to the passenger side of his car. He opened the door for her and settled her gently into the seat.
“I’m not an invalid,” she groused, but he noticed that, at the same time, she didn’t turn down the assistance.
“I know you’re not.” He understood her being grumpy. He didn’t like people fussing over him when he was sick, either. Hell, wasn’t that ninety percent of the reason that he hadn’t told anyone about his condition– he didn’t want to deal with the sympathetic faces, the awkward expressions of sympathy, and the worst part– being treated like he needed to be taken care of. No fucking thank you.
But, as he settled himself into the driver’s seat and started the car, the first thing he did was glance over at Gen’s pitiful form, slumped against the window. He was filled with such a strong protective instinct that his hands curled around the steering wheel nearly into fists, squeezing so hard that his knuckles were pure white.
He knew in that moment that he’d kick the ass of anyone that tried to hurt her, ever. The only problem with that came when the thing trying to hurt her was not a person that could be easily ass-kicked, but rather something hard to pinpoint, like illness or pain. That was the real bitch of it– how the hell were you supposed to dropkick a headache? Or throat-punch the flu?
Damn. He was getting a rare glimpse into the other side of that equation. Being the caretaker, or even just in the same vicinity, of someone you cared about when they were sick was just as hard. Maybe even harder, in a lot of ways.
And, shit, Gen only had a stupid hangover. Not a brain tumor, however benign.
God. He knew that his family was going to freak out when they heard those words: brain tumor. He knew it because that’s what he’d done, and– glimpse into the other side of the equation or not– he just wasn’t ready to be on the receiving end of those freak-outs.
And Gen. He couldn’t stand the thought of the pity that would certainly appear in her eyes as soon as she found out what was going on with him. The look she got in her eyes when she turned them on him had always been one of his favorite things about her.
