by Jewel, Bella
It took a Hulk sized effort not to ask him just how much he liked me or go all shy like the school girl inside me wanted to do. I forced a laugh. “When you put it that way…I might stay sick for a while.”
He pinched my thigh. “Not allowed. Now, get your ass into the bath.” He bent closer, bringing rich scents of wood and sunshine. “Unless…you need help?” His gaze dropped to my chest. “I’m happy to get you naked.”
He blatantly checked me out, his jaw clenching as he swallowed. “It wouldn’t be a hardship to peel you out of those scrubs, unhook your bra, pull down your—” He cut himself off, his eyes blazing with desire. “Let’s just say, I’d fucking love to see you naked. I’d even keep my hands to myself—only to guide you safely into the bath.”
His voice dropped an octave as desire cycloned stronger. “Can’t be too careful with how woozy you feel.”
His hand came up—I didn’t know if it was to cup my suddenly aching breast or to hold me steady as I swooned into him.
Either way, I took a blundering step backward. “Naked is not something you’re going to see.”
His face darkened. “Ever?”
I softened. “Maybe.”
I’m lying out of my ass.
If I wasn’t sick, I would drag him into that vanilla scented bath with me. I’d had enough of my dry spell and Ryder got to me like cat-nip got to Visa.
“Is this more of a ‘you show me yours then I’ll show you mine’ kinda deal?” His fingers teased his paint dotted t-shirt. “I’m happy to stand here starkers. Fuck, you’d be doing me a favour if you let me get out of these jeans.” His hand dropped between his legs. “My cock hasn’t stopped throbbing since I saw how awesomely practical you are by bulk buying tampons.”
I swatted him. “Ugh, you’re unbelievable.”
He ducked. “And you’re bloody addicting.” Letting the outline of his erection go, he dragged both hands through his hair. “Okay, enough. If you flirt with me anymore, I’m going to push you against that wall and fuck you. And that would be bad because I have morals and seducing a sick vet goes against that code.” He groaned long and low. “Even though I really, really, really want to fuck you, Vesper.”
My eyes bugged as a rush of wetness filled my knickers.
Flu or no flu.
Do it. Take me. Oh my God, just do me.
Taking a step back, he splayed his hands in surrender. “One last time, do you need help getting naked and into the bath?”
For a second, I paused. Screw my aching sinuses and cloudy synapses. If he wanted to get it on with a flu-addled, sleep-befuddled, debt-drowning, micro-managing woman, who was I to stop him? But then common sense hit me around the back of the head.
If I slept with him.
When I slept with him. I wanted to remember every detail, every taste, every freckle, and kiss.
Patience was a virtue, even though my pussy and nipples had turned siege on me and become mortal enemies.
Pinching the brow of my nose, I did my best to ignore my sexual frustration. “Definitely not required. You’ve done more than enough.” I coughed. “You can leave now. Thanks for everything.”
Steam curled from the bathroom behind him, reminding me that it’d been over a year since I’d had a bath and that was only because I’d sprained my back lifting a Bulldog onto the inspection table.
I didn’t know how to…relax.
Living alone meant I didn’t like to be quiet. It felt lazy. If I wasn’t watching a guilty episode of Netflix, I was researching new drugs, or reading studies online for new treatments.
There was nothing else in my life but veterinary.
It’s sad really.
Until Ryder wise-cracked and insulted his way into it.
“Okay, then.” Stepping from the small space and encroaching on mine in the corridor, Ryder smiled—unsuccessfully hiding the desire still bright in his eyes. “Let the water run and then climb in. I’m going to see what food you have.”
Holy crap, he’d almost given me an orgasm just by talking to me, cared enough to overlook my mess and run me a bath, and now wanted to cook for me?
I need to marry this man.
Either that, or kidnap him and keep him in my basement so no one else could steal him.
You don’t have a basement.
Drat!
Reaching out, I latched my fingers around his wrist as he pushed off back to the lounge. It was the first time I’d touched him and my fingers erupted with sensation as his pulse thundered beneath soft skin.
I forgot what I was going to say.
“You do have food, right?” Ryder asked softly, his gaze flicking from where I held him and back to my eyes. Once again, lust swirled like ribbons, tying us tighter and tighter together.
Swallowing, I shook my head. “Unfortunately no.”
“Nothing?”
“Nope.”
He frowned. “You’re a vet; you know the importance of eating right.”
“Wrong, I’m a small business owner who has way too much on her plate to think about cooking three square meals every day.” Even though I didn’t want to, I let his wrist go. “Seriously, just go home. I’ve got it from here.”
Go, before I do something embarrassing like dry hump your leg for being so perfect.
Somehow, he’d erased all his rude comments and impatient quips over the past few months, and replaced it with this caring, sexy individual.
Or was that the flu?
Was I in danger of losing brain cells just by admitting I had a crush on this man?
A crush?
Please…it’d mushroomed into obsession.
“I’m not leaving you to starve.” He scowled as decisions came and went. “Can I use your car?”
“You’ve already stolen my keys and driven it once. Now you’re asking for permission?”
He smiled. “Looks that way.”
I cocked my head. “Why? Why do you want to use it?”
He strode to the couch and tickled the Chiweenies before heading toward the front door. “Food, of course. If I’m gonna play nursemaid, I need some substance.”
Before I could tell him to shove his nursemaid routine, take his dogs, and leave me alone before he made my ovaries explode, the door slammed behind him and I was alone.
Chapter Eight
Ryder
“CASH OR CREDIT?”
“Cash.” I handed over a wad that I normally divided between the workmen on a Friday night, so they had some beer money at the pub as a bonus for working hard. Guess today they’d have to go without, seeing as I hadn’t been back home since early this morning.
Those poor Chiweenies and that shitty human being who’d hurt them.
The clerk handed me my change and receipt, and I wheeled the cart from the small grocery store five minutes from Vesper’s house to her beaten up, crappy car. The girl really needed to invest in her life as well as her business.
She didn’t live in the best part of town, she drove a rusty bucket, and had no food in her fridge.
No wonder she was sick.
But she’s not your responsibility.
That was true, and the moment she was over the worst, I’d leave her to fend for herself.
I wanted to get her into bed. I wanted to find out where the connection between us could go. But I also didn’t want to push my luck and seem like an arrogant jackass.
I should never have come on so strongly in the corridor.
What the fuck was I thinking?
She was probably too polite to tell me to shut up about tampons and getting naked when all she really wanted to do was collapse in a flu-puddle on the floor.
Good one, Ry.
And here I was shopping on her behalf, forcing her to take a bath like a child, contemplating cleaning her apartment when she’d passed out, all because I had some stupid drive that meant I couldn’t leave someone hurting—just like I couldn’t leave an animal with an abuser or a lost creature without a home.
I have issues.
At least those issues were better than being an alcoholic or drug addict, but I still had trouble controlling the obsession to help.
She’s not lost or abused, you moron. She’s independent. She doesn’t need you.
And that made me grateful and also kinda sad.
I liked her.
Like really fucking liked her.
If she didn’t like me back…then that would absolutely suck. And if she did like me but had no intention of letting me help or care for her and give me the same in return (because that was what happy marriages were, according to the example set by my parents), then whatever chemistry we had would be wasted.
And that would be a damn shame.
If a therapist had access to my brain, I’m sure they’d say my compulsion to help others wasn’t just because of my parents final wish but because I had acres of guilt for not letting them care for me when I was younger.
That was the part I regretted the most. I thought I was too macho to need them. I loved them but I didn’t lean on them. At the time, I thought it was benefiting them to have such a capable son, but now I looked back and realised that by saying I didn’t need their help, it was a slap in their face.
Now they were gone, and I would’ve given anything for my mum to cook me chicken noodle soup if I was sick, no matter my age.
If Vesper wouldn’t tell her friends or family that she was ill, then I’d take care of her until she did.
I’d do what I needed to do to ease the guilt inside me.
What the hell are you saying?
I didn’t know anymore.
I was tired, confused, and turned on with no outlet to relieve my frustration.
I’d just have to accept my grumpiness because I wasn’t in the mood to psychoanalyse.
* * *
Back at Vesper’s, I found she did have someone in her life, after all.
He/she was waiting for me by the front door and attacked my legs as I walked inside with my arms full of groceries.
“What the hell?”
A can of coconut milk dropped from the bags as I leapt to the side, slamming onto the ground.
Talons sliced into my paint-splattered jeans. “Get off, you bloody animal.”
Shaking my leg, trying to get free, I hopped to the kitchen and quickly put down the items before I dropped the rest.
The moment, my hands were unencumbered, the attack stopped and a blur of motion hurtled away. I’d seen the orange fluff ball briefly when we’d first arrived but hadn’t had the pleasure of an introduction.
Now, blood trickled from a small puncture in my calf as the villain took off down the corridor and slinked into a dark room that I assumed was Vesper’s bedroom.
“Visa?” Vesper’s voice sounded, followed by a loud cough. “What the hell are you doing out there you, damn cat? Don’t you dare terrorise those puppies.”
Leaving the groceries, I tiptoed down the corridor, listening to her mutter about felines and canines and how mortal enemies should learn to get along.
Is that how she thought about us? Different species and therefore enemies?
Too bad for her, I had no intentions of going to war with her. Unless she asked me to dress up like a solider and capture her prisoner role-play style.
Shit, down boy.
My damn cock hadn’t been this hard since high-school.
My hand landed on the doorknob, intending to let myself in. The bath salts would’ve bubbled (I think) to protect her decency. And if it hadn’t, I didn’t really care.
I wanted her.
So damn bad.
And because I wasn’t going to fuck her tonight, the least I could do was perve so I had spank-bank material to sort out my traitorous body. I had to get myself under control for the next time I was around her.
It’d been a long drought since I’d been with a woman. I didn’t want to embarrass myself by coming the second she touched me.
If we ever get that far.
I twisted the handle.
It didn’t budge.
Goddammit, she’s locked the door.
Splashing sounded inside. “Who—who’s there?”
“Who else? It’s Ryder.”
“What? I thought you left?”
Was the flu affecting her short term memory?
“Yes, I did. But now I’m back. I went for food, remember?”
“What on earth for? I told you to go home. You’ve done your good Samaritan thingy. I’m home safe. Now please, leave me alone.”
Did something happen between me leaving and returning? She’d been nice to me before. Now, she was cold.
I knew I shouldn’t have left her alone.
Doubts had a horrible way of turning something right and good into something bad and wrong.
My temper itched into gear. “Wow, that’s gratitude for bringing you home.”
A pause, then a reluctant: “You’re right. I’m sorry. Thank you for bringing me home, Ryder, and for running a bath, but really…I must insist you leave.”
I smiled; not that she could see it. Even with my thread of annoyance, I was enjoying myself way too much to leave yet. “Only once I’ve fed you, Vesper. You’re my patient until I discharge you.”
I pressed my forehead against the door, murmuring, “Finish your bath, then come and find me. Eat what I give you. Let me give you some drugs to help you sleep. And then, maybe, I’ll obey and leave you alone.”
Another splash. “You’re beyond annoying. Has anyone ever told you that?”
I laughed. “Lots. I’ll take it as a compliment.”
There was no reply.
* * *
The sound of draining bath water sent me bolting into the kitchen to finish warming the potato and leek soup.
I hadn’t been snooping.
I would never snoop.
Not me. No way.
It wasn’t my fault her diary was open on her coffee table (who uses paper diaries anymore?) or her Netflix account wasn’t password protected.
From my none-snooping, I learned she loved classic romances such Pride and Prejudice and had a standing date labelled ‘Dogs and Dots’ at one p.m. every Thursday afternoon.
I had no idea what that was but I kinda wanted to know.
I couldn’t help that I’d found those little things. After all, I’d been searching her apartment for a nice fluffy dressing gown to give her after the bath because I was a sweet, non-snooping man who’d invited himself back to her place with outward intentions of caring for her but inward intentions of sleeping with her.
Despite my good and bad thoughts, I’d failed on the dressing gown hunt. Turned out, she owned hardly any clothing and definitely not a nice snuggly robe. So, I’d had to settle for rummaging in her chest of drawers and found some fleece pyjama bottoms and a baggy t-shirt that had a forest background with a beaver crossing its arms. The slogan said: You got wood? I got an axe. Bedtime is sleepy time. No eager beaver here.
I’d snickered. Her sense of humour had infiltrated her wardrobe.
A woman after my heart.
Just so long as she truly doesn’t have an axe when I approach her with my wood.
After stirring the soup one last time, I grabbed the clothing I’d found, and placed myself right outside the bathroom door.
Three…
Two…
The door opened and a towel-draped water sprite greeted me. Holy shit, her skin was the colour of honey and her blonde curls were damp-dark. The short black towel she hugged around her curves gave me a great view of her long legs and pink painted toes.
She screamed, clutching her chest.
My eyes locked onto the small towel, begging it to fall.
Her hand swatted out, whacking me on the bicep. “Oh my God, what are you doing lurking in my corridor? You damn well gave me a heart attack!”
I laughed, swallowing the sudden lust and angling away my hips. “Nothing. Just waiting to give you these.” Shit, it was hard dragging my eyes a
way from the droplet rolling down her cleavage.
I handed her the clothing. “Didn’t want you to get cold. Figured you could get dressed in the bathroom where it’s muggy and hot.”
Her mouth fell open. “Who the hell are you?”
Holding out my hand, I grinned. “Suppose we’ve never been officially introduced. I did kinda barge in on you that day with Heineken and the awful emergency. I’m Ryder Joseph Carson. I like swimming and—”
She ignored my polite introduction, stealing the clothes instead. “Yes, I know your name. That wasn’t what I meant. I meant why are you doing this? I’m not your responsibility. Shoo already.”
“You’re right, you’re not my responsibility. But why should I not do this? Doesn’t the world need more charitable individuals?”
“Are you saying I’m a charity case?”
I jammed my hands in my jean’s pockets. “Well…”
“Wow, keeping me under house arrest and giving out insults.” She sneezed, her eyes welling up with flu tears. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”
That was a question I could answer.
Truthfully.
With no bullshit of any kind.
I bent to her level, inhaling vanilla and other girly smells from her bath. “You care for so many creatures. You put them first and you’re selfless when it comes to their wellbeing over yours.”
She froze as I cupped her cheek. “You’re not like most people, Vesper Fairfax. And I’m not a liar. I like you a fuck ton, and the sooner you realise that, the better off we’ll both be.”
My fingers sparked where I touched her. It took all my willpower to drop my hand and step back. “Go and dress—before I undo that tiny towel and kiss you stupid. Dinner is ready and I want you to eat.”
Chapter Nine
Vesper
I WAS SICK.
It sucked.
But what didn’t suck was Ryder Carson.
He fed me—delicious warming soup.
He entertained me—making jokes when Visa finally came out to say hi.
He kissed me—okay, just a quick peck on the forehead—after he’d cleaned the dishes and straightened out my lounge until I screamed at him to leave the mess alone.
