by Lori Foster
He joined her with a bowl of his own and iced tea for them both, waiting until she started to eat before spooning up a bite for himself.
His gaze met hers. “Damn, that is good.”
And it felt soothing to her raw throat. “Mom’s a terrific cook.”
“I agree.”
Her raspy voice didn’t invite conversation, so they finished the meal in silence. The fact that he was eating, too, made it easier than if he’d only served her. She ate half the bowl before she lost what little energy she had. It took all her resolve not to rest her head on her folded arms and fade away.
Tash said nothing as he finished his soup and put everything away.
Amazing how comfortable he was in her kitchen, reminding her of that first day, when she’d visited his house and he’d been making tacos.
Thinking of a T-shirt she’d once seen, she said, “A man who cooks is sexy, but a man who cleans is irresistible.”
He flashed a wicked smile while washing the pan. “Good to know since I plan to be here for the duration.”
Her heart stuttered. “The duration?”
“Until you’re well. If it’s two days or ten, I’ll figure it out.”
He intends to stay with me the whole time. Heaven only knew how bad she’d look tomorrow...but did it matter? If he was sick, she’d want to help him, too. That rationale made the situation easier to accept.
It felt like she took a giant step when she nodded. “Okay.” His first overnight. Granted, nothing sexual would happen, but still. This might be better.
This meant he really cared...didn’t it?
No other man had spent the night with her. The close proximity to her parents made it impractical. When her hectic schedule had allowed, she’d occasionally stayed at Chuck’s apartment, but always he’d had the expectation of sex.
What Tash did now felt far more personal.
Without appearing to work, he finished up and even wiped off the table. “I need to brush my teeth and then we can head to bed.”
“Bed?” she croaked. Why did it sound like he planned to join her in one bed—hers?
Ears up, Pavlov shot out from under the table. Clearly going back to bed suited him.
Urging her to her feet, Tash said, “I can camp out on the couch if you want, but if it won’t disturb your sleep, I’d love to hold you.”
Love. Her heart tripped so fast it almost hurt. “I—” That single word sounded like gravel so she cleared her throat and tried again, going for a blasé tone. “I don’t mind if you sleep with me.” Fantasy meet reality. “If that’s what you want.” He’d already said he did, damn it. Stop blathering, Autumn. “You’ll have to share with Pavlov.”
His grin told her he knew she was flustered, but didn’t mind. “Pavlov and I are pals, so no problem.”
The dog eagerly followed them back down the hall. When they paused by the bathroom, he continued on and leaped into the bed, taking up his usual spot toward the footboard.
To Autumn, it appeared the dog had just left her in Tash’s capable hands. “I should brush my teeth, too.”
“All right.” He let her go first. Given her fading energy, it didn’t take her long. After getting her tucked into bed, Tash took three minutes for himself, then joined her.
As if it was the most natural thing in the world he closed the bedroom door, turned out the lights and crawled into bed to spoon her, carefully adjusting his feet around Pavlov’s unmoving body.
“Okay?”
Mmm, better than okay. She snuggled into him, sighed and closed her eyes. “Perfect.”
His kiss to her temple was the last thing she was aware of until she woke the next morning, bright sunshine bleeding through the blinds, her head pounding and her limbs wilted.
Once she got her eyes to focus, she found her father there, his eyes staring at her with laserlike focus above his medical mask. He watched her as if he expected her to expire.
Confused, she struggled up to one elbow. “Dad?”
One eyebrow shot up, he turned his head and bellowed, “She’s ’wake” in his slurred voice.
Hurried footsteps, which definitely weren’t Tash’s, preceded her mother’s theatrical entrance. Full of drama, she paused in the doorway, clasped her hands together and sang, “Oh, thank God.” She, too, wore a mask.
Autumn tried to swallow without much success.
“It’s so good to see your smiling face.”
Pretty sure she wasn’t smiling, Autumn asked, “Water?”
Rushing forward, her mother assisted her with a drink. “It’s noon, and you’ve had me worried silly.”
Noon?
Flattening her palm to Autumn’s forehead, her mother said, “Fever doesn’t feel any worse. Are you hungry?”
She didn’t know what she was. Fuzzy-brained, listless, achy all over. “Tash?”
“He’s helping Mike and Sadie with the chores. Ember went to a jobsite but said she’d be home in a few hours.”
Ramifications swirled in her muddled mind. “The animals...”
“Mike has it covered. He knows what he’s doing.” Preening, her mother said, “And I’ve helped.”
What? No. Autumn decided she had to be dreaming. Her mother didn’t dislike animals, but she wanted as little to do with them as possible. And yet, she appeared serious.
“Don’t look at me like that,” her mom protested. “I can feed chickens. I can spray pigs.”
In his chair behind Tracy, her dad leered. “Like a li’l country girl,” he said, eyebrows bobbing as he reached out to pat her mother on the butt.
“Behave Flynn,” she told him with a smile in her voice, then encouraged him by adding, “I wore this adorable scarf around my hair, my jeans with a T-shirt tied at the waist. It was a fetching outfit.”
“Fetching,” her dad agreed.
Somehow she got through the rest of the day—mostly by sleeping for long stretches, reading when she could stay awake and the occasional visit from Sadie, Ember and, most especially, Tash.
Tash was the only one not wearing a mask and it worried her, but he kept promising her he felt fine.
That night he held her again, and it almost made it worth being sick. Almost.
Tomorrow, Autumn vowed, she’d get out of bed and get on with her life, freeing Tash to do the same. She wasn’t a wimp. She could—and would—get her butt in gear.
The next time Tash shared her bed, they’d get more accomplished than sleep, guaranteed.
Chapter Seventeen
For three more days, she barely got out of the bed, couldn’t stay awake more than an hour and felt wretched from her toes to her pounding head. Her fever finally ended, but it left her limp as a noodle. She woke only long enough to eat very light meals, use the bathroom and wash up before crashing again.
On the fifth day, Tash came into her room and touched her shoulder. “Hey, sleepyhead. How do you feel?”
He’d done that off and on each day—checked on her and made her comfortable, seeing if there was anything she needed.
Today she was finally alert enough that it embarrassed her.
Pushing up in the bed, her back to the headboard, she stretched and glanced at the clock. Wincing, she saw it was dinnertime. “I’m so sorry.”
His smile went crooked. “You did what you were supposed to do—sleep. Besides, I’ve enjoyed being here, helping to take care of you. The farm is amazing, but your home is nice, too. I really like it.”
Her thoughts snagged on that statement, then whirled into chaos. A hint that he wouldn’t mind sticking around more, even after she was well?
No, how could he with an impressionable daughter? It was different with her sick and Sadie spending her nights with Ember, but now...
Best that she not read too much into it.
“Thank you.” She pushed
back the sheet, then made a face at her wrinkled sleep shirt. Shoving back her hair, she queried her body and decided she was on the mend. “I want a shower, clean clothes and real food.”
Leaning over the bed, Tash touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “You’re sleep-warm, but not feverish.” He tucked a wayward hank of hair behind her ear.
She’d rather not know how bad her hair looked.
Tash didn’t seem to notice. “How about I get the shower ready, then while you’re in there I can put together a plate for you?”
Her stomach growled. That surely had to mean something, right? For days it had been soup and crackers, but now...? She wanted a meal. “Okay, sure.” Her voice sounded normal again, too. Looking around, she asked, “Where’s Pavlov?”
“Trailing your mother. She’s gotten into the whole farm-girl routine, as she calls it, egged on by your dad.”
“Oh, Lord.”
“They’re still crazy about each other. Nothing wrong with that.”
If she looked at it that way... “You’re right, of course.” She just wished they’d show a little discretion.
“Tracy actually seems to like the animals. She’s with Sadie out in the field talking to her namesake with Pavlov keeping watch.” He leaned in a little and confided, “I don’t think the dog trusts your mother to do things right.”
Autumn’s laugh sounded only a little rusty. “Pavlov is a very smart dog.”
“True.” Tash helped her to her feet. “Ember and Mike grilled earlier. There’s a pork chop and potato left, and salad in the fridge. Does that sound okay or would you rather have soup? Sorry, but there’s only canned left.”
“Food that I can chew sounds like heaven.” Experimentally, she took a few steps. Weak, yes, but not shaky.
In the shower, she scrubbed clean and brushed her teeth. Twice. That alone made her feel much better.
After towel-drying her hair and finger-combing it smooth, she slathered on lotion, then dressed into a clean T-shirt and pull-on shorts.
The mirror was not her friend, showing the dark circles under her eyes and the paleness of her skin, but recovery felt too good to complain.
Heck, just being out of the bed was a gift.
Tash sat with her at the table, drinking coffee and eating a cookie while she devoured her food. Even reheated, it was the best pork chop she’d ever tasted.
She’d just finished when a tap sounded on the kitchen door. She and Tash both looked up, only to find Patricia Schaffer standing there, all smiles and brimming curiosity.
Tash didn’t look happy with the company. “I can send her away if you want.”
He’d do that for her? Knowing him, he’d somehow be nice about it, too. “No, it’s fine. She means well.”
Visibly unconvinced, Tash went to the door and welcomed her. “Patricia. I haven’t seen you since that night at the beach.”
“I know, it’s been forever.” Without taking a breath, she added, “How’ve you been? Playing house with Autumn, I see. Have you moved in here? What about your daughter? I’ve heard so many rumors.”
As if she hadn’t rudely grilled him, Tash nodded to the dish she held. “What do you have there?”
“Oh, this?” Patricia lifted a foil-covered aluminum baking pan. “It’s my very special vegetables, ham-and-cheese quiche. Autumn favored it once, so I thought if she’s feeling better, she might like it.”
Wow. Even with her habit of exaggerating words, Autumn was impressed with the thoughtful gesture. “Thank you, Patricia.” To Tash, she said, “Patricia brought her quiche to a community meeting and it was a big hit.”
“Nice.” Tash took the dish from her. “Autumn just finished eating but I’m sure she’ll love it for her brunch tomorrow.”
“Oh, you’ll need to try it, too. I made plenty.” Patricia gave him a look. “You’ll still be here, right?”
“Take a seat,” he said, again ignoring her question. “I’ll get this put away.”
Frowning, Patricia pulled up a chair at the table, then gave her a pitying look. “How are you, Autumn? Still miserable?”
Autumn almost laughed. “Actually, I’m feeling much better today.”
“Oh, good. You were supposed to meet friends of mine a few days ago, but they said Ember called that you had an awful virus. I promised them you were worth the delay.” Patricia beamed, waiting for Autumn’s gratitude.
“Thank you,” Autumn dutifully replied. “You recommended me to them?”
“Well, of course I did. You’re the only interior designer I know, but I can tell you’re good.” She scooted her chair so close their knees bumped. “I wanted to visit you earlier, but after I told Chuck you were sick, he said you might be contagious and he didn’t want me to risk getting sick, too.”
Autumn’s composure slipped. “Chuck?”
“We’re seeing each other now.” With a happy smile, Patricia revealed, “He promised me that he’s completely over you—”
Tash’s bark of laughter drew their attention. Even though he stood at the counter putting away the dishes from her meal, he obviously listened in.
Autumn saw him shake his head.
Patricia looked between them, her eyes narrowing. “Why is that funny?”
“Inside joke,” Autumn lied, but sympathy forced her to say more. “If you’re happy with Chuck, I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you.”
Ho, boy. This was harder than Autumn could have imagined. “But you know Chuck, right? You know who he is, what he is—”
“He’s changed!”
No, he absolutely hadn’t, and deep down, Patricia had to know it. Autumn didn’t have it in her to press it further, though. “I hope you’re right.” She smiled.
After another quick glance at Tash, Patricia said, “Chuck was thinking about visiting you, too—”
No way.
“—but I told him he probably shouldn’t just yet.”
“Better not to chance it,” Tash stated, his tone hard as he tossed down his hand towel. Belatedly, he turned to Autumn. “Right?”
“Exactly right,” she agreed. “I’m sorry, Patricia, but Chuck isn’t welcome here. Not ever.”
Distressed, Patricia again looked between them. “We live in the same town.”
“Yes, and if we run in to each other I’ll be polite.” Autumn took her hand. “You’re a friend, and I will never deliberately embarrass you or put you on the spot. I promise.”
“Thank you.” Patricia squeezed her hand in return, then abruptly turned to Tash. “So you live here now?”
Autumn almost rolled her eyes. Since Patricia hadn’t gotten an answer the first time, she’d asked again. Well, Autumn would nicely tell her to mind her own business, so Tash wouldn’t have to.
She started to speak, and suddenly her kitchen door swung open again and her mother charged in.
“Patricia! Oh, so lovely to see you,” her mother panted, obviously winded. She grabbed Patricia’s arm and hauled her out of her seat. “Now you really must go.”
“Go?” Patricia tried to hold back, but for a plump, short woman, her mother had strength...of all kinds. “But I just got here!”
“Yes, and you’ve said your hellos.” Dragging her to the door, Tracy explained, “Autumn has been very sick, you know. I’m limiting her to short visits only. In fact, I’m sure Tash is taking her back to bed right now.”
Titillated, Patricia asked, “You want him to take her to bed?”
“Don’t be a prude, Patricia. Of course I do. He’s taken very good care of my daughter. He’s a stellar young man. Stellar.” Turning her eye on Tash, she ordered, “Go on now. Autumn needs her rest.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tash said around a barely banked grin.
He had Autumn on her feet, urging her down the hall, before she could take it all in.
Her mother had come to her rescue? Incredible.
Over her shoulder, Autumn belatedly called, “Thank you for the quiche, Patricia!”
Whatever her friend replied back, Autumn couldn’t hear...because Tash was laughing so hard.
His humor brought on her own. Snickering, Autumn nudged him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mother move that quickly.”
“She’s a force of nature, for sure.” There, outside her bedroom, Tash smiled down at her. “How do you feel?”
“Well enough that I’m unwilling to go back to bed just to fend off Patricia.”
His grin quirked. “I think I heard the kitchen door close. The coast should be clear now.”
Still huffing, her mother came down the hall. “Mercy, that was more cardio than I’ve done in years.” She collapsed against the wall, one hand fanning her face. “Patricia is on her way.”
“Mom,” Autumn said, feeling ridiculously proud, “however did you know?”
“I didn’t, because you, young lady, have never told me.”
Autumn felt the flush climbing up from her neck. Tell her mother about Patricia snooping, carrying rumors, sharing gossip? Until this moment, she hadn’t known they had that type of relationship. Lamely, she muttered, “There wasn’t much to tell.”
“Ha!” Her mom drank in another deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Patricia pulled up just as Sadie and I were returning to the barn. Ember saw her, but she had her hands full of tools, so she frantically ordered me to come run interference.” She finally straightened off the wall. “‘Go save Autumn,’ Ember said. ‘That woman is a menace and she’ll upset her.’ Nearly startled me out of my skin, but Ember’s attitude didn’t leave room for questions so I just sprinted here—me, sprinting!—not knowing what I’d find, but the second I saw you, I knew you were uncomfortable.” Her mother peeked at her. “Did she upset you, dear?”
Affection overwhelmed Autumn, gathering in her throat, making it difficult to swallow, compelling her to do something she didn’t do often. She snuggled into her mother’s embrace. “No, Mom,” she promised. “I’m fine.”
For a second, Tracy was startled, then her arms came around Autumn, enclosing her in soft, familiar warmth. “Good, that’s good.” With a pat to her back, she asked, “You’re feeling better now?”
