by Rachel Lacey
“I did,” he confirmed.
“Thank you. It was delicious,” she whispered, fighting the urge to cough. Her chest ached something fierce, and the shivery sensation on her skin meant her fever had returned.
“I’m glad. Anything you want for supper, just name it, and I’ll go get it for you.”
“Well, I do have a craving for ice cream.” She turned her head to look up at him with a smile.
“I read that you shouldn’t have dairy products,” he told her solemnly. “It can make your body produce more mucous.”
“I know that.” Had he researched pneumonia to help take care of her? Gah. She was so screwed where he was concerned. She sat up and grabbed a tissue off the table to cough into. “Sounds so good right now, though.”
“What about sorbet?” he asked. “Or a fruit smoothie?”
“Mm.” She leaned back on the couch, closing her eyes. “A smoothie sounds fantastic, actually.”
“Say no more.” He leaned over, pressing his lips against her neck with a quick, gentle kiss that filled her with a combination of heat and chills. Desire and fevers really didn’t mix.
“Thanks, Flynn,” she whispered, snuggling into the blanket on the couch as he left the flat. She had no idea how long he was gone, because she was asleep almost before he was out the door. The next thing she knew, he was back with a paper bag and a plastic smoothie cup. “Oh my God, you’re the best.”
She took the smoothie from him and sipped gratefully. It felt like heaven going down her raw, parched throat. He set several containers of food on the glass table in front of the couch and went into the kitchen for plates and utensils.
“I got a few different things,” he said as he rummaged through cabinets. “I figured leftovers are going to be our friend this week.”
“Definitely,” she agreed, still sipping from her smoothie.
They chatted comfortably as they ate, then watched a documentary on Netflix before she was ready to call it a night.
“Would you like me to go to a hotel nearby?” he asked. “Or I can sleep out here on the couch, if you prefer.”
“I’m happy to share the bedroom with you.” She leaned over, pressing her lips against his cheek. “And I’m not contagious, by the way. But I might keep you up all night coughing. The couch pulls out if you’d rather sleep here.”
His arms went around her, lifting her from the couch to carry her into the bedroom. “I would rather sleep with you.”
Flynn woke to the sound of Ruby coughing in bed beside him, reaching over instinctively to rub her back before he stood to refill her glass of water.
“Thank you,” she whispered, squinting at him adorably without her glasses. She took the glass and drank, wincing as she pressed a hand to her chest.
“Anything else you need?”
She shook her head, taking shallow breaths until the spasms had passed. Weak daylight filtered in through the windows, telling him that morning had arrived. He leaned back, drawing her against his chest, and she snuggled in without protest, wrapping an arm around him. Her skin was feverishly warm against his, her breaths still shallow and ragged.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered.
“Me too.” He’d wanted to see her again so badly, and while he really wished she weren’t sick, he was so glad that he could be here for her. And with her.
They lay there like that for a while, dozing and holding each other, before they finally got up. Ruby spent the day on the couch, alternately napping and watching TV, while he worked at his laptop at the desk in the corner. It felt disconcertingly comfortable, domestic even. And as much as he was glad to be here helping her, he had to grudgingly admit she’d had a pretty good handle on things on her own.
There was a chart pinned to the fridge with her daily medication schedule, including probiotics and vitamins, each one dutifully checked off after she’d taken it.
“Weren’t you supposed to be taking a break from lists on this trip?” he asked jokingly as he brought over her antibiotic and a glass of water.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “That rule pertained to my trip. I wanted to have an uncharted adventure, but I don’t mess around with my health.”
“I’d say you’ve had quite an uncharted adventure.” He leaned over to kiss her cheek as a wave of affection barreled through him.
Ruby snuggled into her blanket nest on the couch, smiling up at him from behind her glasses. Her hair was kind of a mess, her face makeup free and pale from her illness, and yet she looked so lovely, he could hardly draw breath. “I suppose I have,” she said. “I certainly didn’t see this coming.”
His phone began to ring. He swiped it from his pocket to reveal his mother’s name on the screen. “Be right back,” he told Ruby before he stepped into the bedroom and connected the call. “Hello, Mother.”
“Hello, darling,” she said. “I hear you’re in Paris?”
“And how did you hear that?” he asked, running a hand through his hair as he paced toward the window, wishing it was low enough to look out of. He felt a sudden kinship with the animals at the zoo, looking for a way out of their enclosures.
“Your father and Aidan spoke today about financial matters, and he mentioned you’d run off on him, chased a girl to Paris.”
“I didn’t run off on him. I had completed all the surveying work and gone over the initial renderings with him when a friend became ill, and I flew out to stay with her for a few days while she recuperates. Aidan’s project is proceeding according to schedule.”
“It’s just that you have a habit of doing this, Flynn. You lose focus before you’ve completed a project.”
“I’ve got everything under control, Mother.” He didn’t add that Aidan was the one who’d first suggested Flynn come to Paris, knowing that was beside the point his mother was trying to make. “I’ll be finished with this project on time, and I’ll be in Dubai on the first to begin work there.”
“All right, then. So, who is this friend you’re caring for?”
“Ruby Keller. You met her briefly at the Langdon wedding last week.”
“Oh? I thought you two had only just met that night.”
“We did, but we’ve remained in touch. She came down with pneumonia, and since she was so far from home, I offered to give her a hand while she’s recovering.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” his mother said. “Just be careful that you don’t get distracted from your work, that’s all.”
11
The sounds of the city awakened her, cars humming down the street outside and a church bell clanging in the distance. Ruby stretched, opening her eyes to peer at her surroundings. The blurry living room of the flat in Paris appeared in front of her, which meant she’d dozed off on the couch. Sometimes, it was hard to remember whether it was day or night when she slept so much. The one constant was Flynn, and there he was now, handing her glasses to her.
She slid them onto her face, and the room came into focus. “Thank you. What time is it?”
“Just past noon.” He sat beside her on the couch. “Feeling any better?”
“Yeah.” She pushed herself into a sitting position. This was the fifth day since starting antibiotics, the fourth day since Flynn’s arrival, and the medication was definitely starting to take effect. Her fever was gone, and her cough was beginning to ease.
“Ready for lunch?” he asked.
“Sure.” She wasn’t particularly hungry, but she knew she needed to eat to aid her recovery. “What do we have today?”
“I picked up some bread, meats, and cheese at the market this morning. I thought we could make a light meal out of it, if that sounds good to you.”
“It sounds perfect.” She sat up, coughing. “And actually, what do you think about making it a picnic?”
“A picnic?” A wrinkle appeared between his brows as he processed her request.
She rubbed at her chest as the coughing subsided. “There’s an adorable little park at the end of the bl
ock. I saw it when the taxi dropped me off.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Some fresh air would be good for me,” she said. “We can bring a blanket and lay in the park for a little while. I’ll even use my oxygen tank for the walk.”
He looked like he was going to argue with her about it, but after a moment, he reached over and squeezed her hand. “If you’re sure it’s okay, I’d be happy to fix us a picnic.”
“I’m sure it’s okay,” she whispered. “I need to be really careful about exposing myself to germs right now, so I’ll only sit on our blanket, but I need some fresh air. If I were at home, I would have spent a lot of time outside, resting in the yard.”
“All right, then.” Flynn got up and went into the kitchen.
Ruby peeled herself off the couch and went to make herself presentable. She brushed her hair and clipped it back, splashed some water on her face, and put on a bra under her T-shirt. She sat on the bed to put on her sneakers and then went into the living room to get her oxygen tank.
Flynn had a paper grocery bag in one hand and a duffel bag in the other. “Do you need help with that?”
She shook her head as she slipped the cannula into place across her nose and behind her ears and started the oxygen flowing. When she’d finished, she rolled the tank across the room to join him, smirking at the barely disguised concern on his face.
“You’re sure this is okay?” His gaze darted from the tank to her face.
“I’m positive,” she assured him. “Believe me, I want to get well as quickly as possible so I can get out of here and go home.” Except as she said it, she realized it wasn’t true. As much as she hated being sick and stranded in Paris, she liked being here with him. Her words hung in the air between them. Flynn’s gaze dropped to the floor, a sort of deflated air around him.
She stepped forward and pressed her lips against his. “But I’m really glad I’m here with you right now.”
He set down their picnic, his arms sliding around her waist to tuck her in against his chest. “I am too.”
She turned her face against the soft cotton of his T-shirt. Flynn was tall and solidly built, so much so that her head fit neatly below his chin. She should have felt small in his arms, frail even, given the oxygen tank she was attached to. But she didn’t. Something about the way he held her just felt…right.
They stood like that for a minute, holding on to each other. His heart thumped steadily beneath her ear. Finally, she stepped back. Flynn turned and opened the door to the hall. He glanced at the flight of stairs that led to the street below before turning back to her.
And then, as if he’d just made a decision, he lifted the oxygen tank and handed it to her. She clutched it against her chest, opening her mouth to ask him what the hell he was doing, but he’d already swept her into his arms and was carrying her down the stairs.
“No stairs for you,” he said simply as he set her down. “Not until you can walk without that thing.”
“Um. Okay.” She couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at her lips as he jogged back up the stairs to get the bags containing their picnic. She would have protested the act of bravado, except the stairs really had done a number on her the last time she’d scaled them. And besides, she already knew he wasn’t prone to acts of bravado. Acts of kindness, though? Yeah, he was a master.
They walked outside together. Sunlight washed over her, and she squinted, feeling like a bear coming out of hibernation. The breeze tickled her skin, and she tilted her face toward the sky, soaking up the sun’s warmth. Yes, this was exactly what she’d needed.
Flynn’s free hand found its way into hers, and they strolled toward the park at a leisurely pace. The wheels on the tank rattled over the uneven chunks of pavement beneath them, providing the soundtrack for their walk.
“Tell me if you need to stop and rest,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze.
She just squeezed it back, because although she was one hundred percent enjoying the fresh air and the walk, it was probably best to save all her breath for the task at hand. The street curved slightly to the right, and the park came into sight. It was nothing much, just a little square of green between two street corners. Benches lined its edges, and a statue in the middle was flanked by beds of red and purple flowers.
They crossed the street and made their way over to it. An elderly couple sat together on one of the benches, but otherwise, the park was deserted. Flynn opened his duffel bag and pulled out a blue blanket, which he spread across the grass. Gratefully, she sat, crossing her legs in front of herself. She was a bit winded from the walk, but her blood was pumping in a good way. She felt energized and alive, grateful for this beautiful Parisian day and Flynn’s company.
Pneumonia could look so much worse than this. She knew firsthand, and she’d take this beautiful park and this handsome man over a hospital bed any day of the week.
He opened the other bag and began spreading out their picnic. And while she hadn’t had much of an appetite since getting sick, her stomach actually grumbled in anticipation. He laid out meat, cheese, bread, and even a sprig of plump purple grapes, followed by two bottles of sparkling water.
“It’ll have to do until you’re off the antibiotics,” he said with a wink as he handed her a bottle.
“It’s perfect.” She screwed off the top and took a long drink. “How is your friend’s house coming along?” she asked as they began to prepare their plates.
“Really well,” he told her, his face an interesting contradiction of emotions. She saw excitement and pride mixed with something less happy, almost dark. Flynn was a paradox that way, and she still hadn’t quite figured out the source of his melancholy where work was concerned.
“Would you show it to me?” she asked. “Once we’re back at the flat?”
He looked up at her, surprise evident in the rise of his eyebrows. “I’d be glad to.”
“Cool.” She bit off a chunk of crusty bread, crunching it thoughtfully. “I have no idea how that process works, and I’d love to see what you’re working on.”
“Well, I’ll draw up the plans for the house, conferring with Aidan on all the particulars, and once he’s signed off on everything, we’ll deliver the final design to the builder.”
“And this is what you enjoy doing?” she asked. “Do you prefer it to work at the hotel?”
He rolled a slice of salami around a wedge of cheese and popped it into his mouth, chewing and swallowing before he answered. “I’m not sure how to answer that, exactly. But yes, this is my favorite thing to do, designing something from scratch.”
“You don’t get to do that at Exeter,” she guessed. “The hotels have standards that they follow, guidelines.”
“Exactly.”
“Have you thought of opening your own architecture business?”
“I’ve thought about it.” He took another bite.
“Would your family be upset about you leaving the business? Couldn’t you still work with them while having your own clients?” She created her own meat and cheese roll-up and popped it in her mouth.
“I’m not sure I have it in me to be a business owner.”
“Why not?” she pressed.
“I sometimes have trouble seeing things through to completion. I lose interest. It’s why I’ve been placed on so many different projects. My mother doesn’t think—”
“She’s wrong,” Ruby interrupted softly. “I don’t think you have any trouble seeing things through, not if they’re important things or things that truly interest you.”
He looked away, a muscle twitching in his cheek. “I’m not sure you’ve known me long enough to say that with any authority.”
“Fair point,” she conceded. “But I don’t foresee you having any trouble seeing me through my recuperation or finishing Aidan’s project on time. Maybe the work you’re doing at Exeter just isn’t right for you.”
“Maybe.”
She’d seen a bit of what he meant, though.
She’d noticed the way his attention wandered during movies, how he seemed to flit from task to task in the kitchen. He’d been nonstop when they toured London together, and he seemed to focus with laser-like intensity when he worked on the mock-up for Aidan’s new house. “Please feel free to tell me if I’m way out of line, but have you ever been tested for ADHD?”
His gaze snapped to hers. “Why do you ask?”
“My sister has it. She struggled a lot in school, and it made her feel stupid when the opposite was true. People think it means you can’t focus, but you can. People with ADHD are hyper-focused on the things that interest them. You just remind me of her that way, that’s all.”
“I was diagnosed in secondary school,” he said, still staring off into the distance.
“Oh.” She hugged her knees against her chest. “Well, then you already know everything I just said.”
“I guess I had forgotten the part about being able to focus on things that interest you,” he said. “Although, I’m not sure that’s true in my case.”
“I’ve seen you focus on a lot of things. In fact, I don’t think I would have even noticed it if not for my sister’s experience.” She paused, gauging his response to her words. “What I noticed more is your perception of yourself. I think that sometimes you don’t go after what you really want, because you’re afraid you’ll mess it up, but you underestimate yourself, Flynn.”
He reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, but you’ve never really seen me at work.”
“True.” She squeezed back. “But I still think you can do anything you want, if you decide to stop holding yourself back.”
Flynn was quiet, his expression troubled.
“Secondary school is late to be diagnosed,” she commented.
“It is,” he agreed.
“Did you have trouble in school because of it?”
“It wasn’t easy,” he admitted. “I’m the youngest, as you know, and my siblings all excelled in school. My parents didn’t understand why I couldn’t just sit down and finish my lessons like they did or why my marks were always so low.”
