Baked With Love 2

by Tina Martin

  Gemma shrugged. “Two, something. Well, we left the appointment earlier than that. We stopped off for lunch at Panera Bread. What time is it now?”

  Ramsey glanced at his watch. “It’s 5:17 p.m. So, you’re telling me she’s been sleeping for close to three hours?”

  “Um, yeah?” she said in the form of a question since she was uncertain if it was the answer Ramsey wanted to hear. “I could be wrong. Maybe she’s watching TV or something. I don’t know. What I do know is, I’ve been up for an hour and I haven’t heard a peep from upstairs. I can usually hear her when she walks to the bathroom.”

  “Do you mind if I go up?” Ramsey asked.

  “No. Not at all.”

  “Okay. Thank you,” Ramsey said getting a head start, jogging up the beige carpeted staircase, traveling the hallway toward her room. Her bedroom door was closed. He turned the knob glad to find it unlocked. If it was locked, he’d probably use a shoulder thrust to knock it off the hinges. That’s how badly he needed to see her.

  Twisting the knob, he opened the door slowly. He saw her lying on the bed with her back toward him. His eyes traveled the silhouette of her clothed frame. He walked around the foot of her princess bed to see her face. Her eyes were closed. Breathing slow, yet steady.

  He kneeled beside the bed and stared. According to Gemma, she’d been up here for three hours. That didn’t mean she was sleeping for a full three hours though. He saw the remote on her nightstand. Maybe she’d watched TV. Or taken a shower. No, she was fully clothed. She hadn’t showered. Maybe she was lying here, crying her eyes out after receiving the devastating news from the doctor. That was more likely.

  Ramsey opened the blinds hoping the subtle evening light would help her wake up naturally, then eased up on the bed and laid next to her. Faced her. He wanted to touch her, but since he’d rather she wake up on her own, he’d have to settle for the feel of her body heat blending with his and even that did something to rouse him. He closed his eyes. Absorbed it. Her heat. Her energy. Then he looked at her again, his eyes recording every detail of her face – the shape of her brows, the long eyelashes over those beautiful eyes he longed to see, her cutesy nose that he’d wiped flour from and lips that made his mouth water.

  Watching her sleep was beginning to be one of his favorite activities. Even after fussing at some contractors, arguing with Royal and stressing out about Gianna’s whereabouts, this moment – watching her sleep – took the cares of the day away. Made him forget problems. Made him want to glide the tip of his index finger along the shape of her lips. Just as the desire turned into a need, her eyes opened.

  Gianna batted her eyes, focusing, then closed them again. She was dreaming about Ramsey. Again. How did she let him creep into her subconscious mind? It was bad enough she couldn’t handle his presence in real life. Now, she had to be all anxious and jittery in her sleep, too? How was that fair?

  She opened her eyes again – at least she thought she opened them – but if they were open, why was she still seeing his face? Weird. Was she having one of those dreams where you’re actually dreaming and you wake up but you only dreamed you woke up? Her forehead creased. She extended her hand to the vision of Ramsey’s face and traced his lips. “Wow. They feel so real and warm,” she said softly.

  “That’s because they are real. And warm.” Ramsey smiled.

  “Aaah!” Gianna screamed hysterically and sprang up off of the bed and right to her feet like a cat dodging a puddle. In full panic mode – Gianna-style – she patted herself down to make sure she was covered in clothes.

  “Well, that wasn’t the reaction I was expecting,” Ramsey said, amused when he knew he shouldn’t be. She actually looked terrified.

  “What are you doing here? In my…in my bedroom?” she asked taking short breaths, looking at him like he was a stranger.

  “I came to check on you,” he said casually. Standing up on the opposite side of the bed from where she was standing, his tone grew serious when he asked, “Where’s your phone, Gianna?”

  Disoriented, Gianna asked, “My…my, my, my phone?”

  “Yes,” he said, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Your phone. Where is it?”

  “It’s…um…I don’t know where it is,” she said, unable to stop moving from side-to-side like she was looking for a good path to make a quick escape. Then, her eyes narrowed when she said, “For all I know, you took it.”

  He chuckled. “Why would I take your phone?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  A playful squint decorated his glowing eyes. “Okay, seriously, Gianna, where is your phone?”

  “I said, I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” he said and began taking slow, easy steps towards her.

  “Stay over there,” she told him.

  Ignoring her, he kept coming her way when he said, “I called you at least five times today, was worried so much I couldn’t focus, and you don’t know where your phone is? How can you not know where your phone is, sweetness?”

  “My phone, my phone, my phone,” she said hoping the repetition would jog her memory. “Where is my phone? Oh, that’s right. I left it home.” She rubbed her eyes, still waking up. “I was in a rush this morning and left my phone home,” she explained to him. “It’s probably in the kitchen somewhere. I’m not sure.”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s right. We were in the kitchen last night before you fell asleep in my arms. On the sofa. In the living room,” he said as if he wanted to remind her of that fact.

  Gianna frowned as if his words didn’t register. “Why are you here, Ramsey?”

  “I’m here to check on you, and I wanted to know how Gemma’s appointment went. I was concerned. I still am.”

  “It’s nothing for you to be concerned about. Why are you here?” she asked again, her frown deepening this time.

  “I just told you why I’m here. Are you not fully awake yet?”

  “Yes! I’m awake, but I don’t expect to wake up with a man in my bedroom.”

  “A man…you make it sound like we don’t know each other…like I’m some dude off the street. You know me, Gianna.”

  “Not really, Ramsey. Look…I appreciate you being a listening ear for me last night. And I appreciate your offer to help me, but this whole thing of you being connected to me somehow is a little…um…how do I put this nicely? Out there? Yes, out there. And I don’t know you well enough for you to be sneaking into my bedroom with your big hands and your…your freshly licked lips puckered up at me while I’m sleeping.”

  Smiling, Ramsey said, “They may have been freshly licked, but they definitely weren’t puckered. I don’t think men do that. Pucker.”

  “Well, whatever,” Gianna said crossing her arms over her chest. “Your lips were doing something strange.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “My lips were doing something strange,” he repeated slowly just so she could hear a playback of what she just said and how crazy it sounded. “And how do you know they were freshly licked?”

  “Because they look glossy.”

  “Gianna—”

  “Don’t Gianna me. You can’t go around climbing into people’s bedroom windows and stuff, Ramsey.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, you’re definitely not awake.”

  “Why are you laughing at me?”

  “Because you’re hilarious.”

  Her eyes burned with annoyance. “And I’m hilariously about to call 911 on your fool behind.”

  Still laughing, Ramsey said, “Okay, call ‘em, but you gotta…” He couldn’t get the words out for laughing so hard. “You gotta find your phone first, sweetness.”

  “Go ahead. Laugh it up,” she said, throwing a bath towel around herself like a cape since she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to remember that her robe was hanging on the back of the bathroom door. And why did she even need a robe or a towel? She still had all her clothes on. It’s not like she was wearing a flimsy nightgown. She was in a blouse and dark blue jeans. “Just w
ait ‘til I find my phone. We gon’ see if it’s funny then. You’re going to jail for breaking and entering.”

  Ramsey laughed so hard, he had to take his hands out of his pockets as he bent over to contain himself. “Okay…okay. Calm down, Gianna. Your sister…Gemma let me in. I didn’t come through the window. Good grief. You are something else, woman.”

  “Whatever. And I don’t want no breakfast, either. I just want to find my phone.”

  “Who said anything about breakfast?” he asked, still laughing. “It’s actually dinner time.”

  She rolled her eyes, irritated by his laughter.

  Ramsey continued chuckling, but she looked dead serious. That’s what made her allegations so funny. Like he’d ever climb through anybody’s window…

  To determine if she was actually awake and not sleep-talking as he suspected, he asked, “Gianna, what’s one plus two?”

  “The number of years you’re going to get for breaking and entering because I’m pressing charges.”

  “Woman, I did not break into your house.”

  “Then why are my blinds open?” she asked, looking up at him as he stood in front of her. “I never open my blinds.”

  “I opened them because I wanted the afternoon sunlight to wake you up. I didn’t want to nudge you.”

  “Just go, Ramsey,” Gianna said. “I’m still calling 911 when I find my phone.”

  Okay. Enough laughing. All humor dissipated when he realized she was serious. He didn’t know if she was still sleeping or what, but he knew he had to take control of the situation. So, whipping out his phone, he handed it to her and said, “Here. Call 911. Tell them there’s a man in your bedroom who doesn’t want to do you any harm. Tell them he’s here for you, to help you. To be a shoulder for you. To do anything you want him to. Call ‘em.”

  She looked at the phone but didn’t reach for it. “Ramsey…”

  “No. Here. Call 911, Gianna.”

  She glanced at his phone again then back into his eyes. Briefly. “No. I don’t want your phone.”

  “Then stop trying to make me go away because I’m not going anywhere. I’m not. I’m here to stay. Well, not permanently, but I told you…I’m here for you.”

  “How—why—what do you mean? You have a life. This—this is strange. You’re strange.”

  “People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, Gianna.”

  “I’ll throw whatever the freak I wanna throw, Ramsey,” she said, brightening her eyes at him.

  He nibbled on his bottom lip, watching hints of green in her honeyed eyes – a sure sign that she was nervous. And the fact of the matter was, she looked delicious having just woken up and the way she pronounced his name…jeez. Mmm, mmm, mmm. He loved the delicate, sweet-sounding, Southern drawl she added to it. He’d never heard anyone say his name quite like her.

  “What am I going to do with you?” he asked, touching her chin with his index finger and thumb.

  “Leave me alone,” she replied, ducking away from his touch.

  “That’s not going to happen,” he told her.

  “And you’re just so sure of yourself, aren’t you?” she asked, throwing a hand on her hip.

  “I am. You definitely don’t get to where I am in life by being unsure of yourself. So yes, I can say with confidence that I’m not going to leave you alone. I like you, Gianna Jacobsen, and one day, you’ll like me just as much. Just think of me as your real-life guardian angel.” He smiled, showing perfection.

  She thought it was a sneaky smile but brilliant, nonetheless. Gee, what am I thinking? Forget about his charming smile, Gianna. You have to get him out of here. “Eight days ago, we didn’t know each other.”

  He shrugged his large shoulders. “Now, we do. What do you want for dinner, Gianna?”

  That’s how she could get him to leave. She would send him out on a dinner run and not open the door when he returned.

  “I’m not physically leaving in case you’re thinking about locking me out,” he said. Was he a mind reader, too? “I should be able to find something in the fridge to cook. Tell me what you want to eat.”

  And now, she lost the ability to speak. Was he serious? He certainly looked serious.

  When she didn’t respond, he said, “Okay. I’ll just wing it. When you’ve finished waking up, join me downstairs.”

  * * *

  The kitchen was stocked pretty good since she’d just bought groceries the night before. Well, he had ended up paying for the groceries, and he followed her home to help her unpack them and put everything away. Surely he could find something to whip up for her. He opened the refrigerator door and surveyed the contents – eggs, milk, cheese, ham…

  “I see you’ve made yourself right at home.”

  He looked over at Gemma. Her pale appearance didn’t strike him as hard as it would’ve struck other people because he was used to this look – along with the dark circles around her eyes and her chaffed lips. Leandra had the same look.

  “I’m looking for something to cook for dinner.”

  “And Gianna approved this?” Gemma asked.

  “Approved?” He smirked. Approved. That’s funny.

  “She doesn’t allow me to cook a thing,” Gemma told him. “She doesn’t even like it when I heat up soup in the microwave.” Gemma coughed.

  “Have you eaten?”

  “Not since lunch. I was just about to warm up some soup since Gianna ain’t down here yet to stop me.”

  “Well, now I’m down here to stop you. Have a seat, Gemma. I got it.”

  “You really don’t have to, Ramsey. I know you’re doing the whole win-the-little-sister-over-to-impress-the-big-sister-thing, but it’s really not necessary.”

  “I know, especially since big sister is already impressed by me.”

  Gemma smiled. “Why do you think that?”

  “I don’t think it. I know it. Now, you have a seat, little lady, and let me prepare some soup for you.”

  “Okay.”

  Ramsey walked over to the pantry and removed a can of soup. Looking at the label, he asked her, “Is clam chowder okay?”

  “Yes. That’s fine.”

  He poured it into a bowl and put it in the microwave. After three minutes on high, he stirred it, then put it on the table in front of her. “Don’t burn yourself.”

  “Thank you, Ramsey.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He returned to the refrigerator and stood there, trying to piece together a meal in his head. He didn’t do this – coordinate meals. Carson cooked his meals. He never had to give much thought to things like this before.

  “Um, may I make a suggestion?” Gemma asked.

  He looked back at her with the refrigerator door still open. “What’s that?”

  “If you can’t cook, which I highly suspect that you can’t, why don’t you just run down the street to get something?”

  “Because I’m afraid your sister won’t let me back in.”

  Gemma giggled. “She’s mad at you, huh?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I told you she’d freak out if she woke up to find you in her bedroom.”

  “Yeah. You did warn me.”

  “But, no worries. You can run out and pick up some food. I’ll let you back in.”

  “And what if you’re asleep?”

  “Oh. Right.”

  “Well, in that case, order a pizza.”

  “Good thinking, Gemma. Tell me what kind your sister likes.”

  “She likes meat. Pepperoni, sausage, bacon…”

  “Gotcha.” He pulled out his phone and called the nearest pizza restaurant, confirming delivery in twenty-five minutes.

  “Gemma, I told you I would heat up your soup,” Gianna said sternly as soon as she walked into the kitchen.

  “Ramsey heated it up for me.”

  Gianna glared at Ramsey, then quickly looked away.

  “Hmm…I’m picking up some tension here,” Gemma said.

 
“I’m not trying to cause any tension,” Ramsey said. “Just trying to help.” He pulled out a chair, sat across from Gemma but kept his eyes on Gianna. She was filling a cup with ice and water. Her hair was pinned up like it usually is when she had to work. She had on jeans and had changed out of a blouse into a gray T-shirt, nothing fancy but still it shaped her body well. She kept her back to him while she drank water. He took it as her ignoring him. She wanted to ignore him? Fine. He’d talk to Gemma. He looked across the table at her and asked, “What do you think about a having a full-time nurse, Gemma?”

  Gianna frowned, turned around to look at him but didn’t say a word.

  “I told you, last night, I couldn’t afford that,” Gemma replied.

  “And we don’t need your help, Ramsey,” Gianna said.

  “That’s exactly what someone who needs help, but is in denial would say,” he said, looking at her. Returning his attention to Gemma, he asked, “Gemma, what if money was no object? Don’t you think a home nurse would greatly help you and Gianna? It would free up Gianna so she doesn’t have to worry so much while she’s at work. I mean, use today for an example. She didn’t work at all because she had to take you to the hospital. If you had a nurse, Gianna could’ve been working.”

  Gianna’s temples pulsated. Jaw hardened. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not standing here.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Then I advise you get in on this discussion and act like you are standing there.”

  “It would help us, Gianna,” Gemma said. “I told Ramsey we had looked into it, and—”

  “And she said you couldn’t afford it,” Ramsey finished saying. “Sorry for interrupting, Gem.”

  Gem? He was on a nickname basis with her sister now?

  “That’s okay,” Gemma told him.

  “We can’t afford it, and that’s really none of your concern, Ramsey,” Gianna said, then took a sip of water.

  Ramsey smiled. None of his concern…he’d be the judge of that.

  When the doorbell rang, he got up and said, “That’s probably the pizza.”

  “You ordered a pizza?” Gianna asked, her forehead gradually creasing.