by Sherri Hayes
Paul coughed, and Megan momentarily forgot about Chloe. “How are you feeling?”
“Like someone ran a steamroller over my body.”
Megan frowned. “Let me see if we’ve got anything in the medicine cabinet.”
Megan ambled into Paul’s bathroom. She’d only been in the space once before. Not long after Megan moved in with Paul and Chloe, the little girl had caught a cold. Paul kept all the medicine in his bathroom, out of Chloe’s reach.
Like the first time, Megan was almost shocked by the difference between Paul and most of the guys she’d met. In her past experience, most men were slobs when it came to their personal space, with towels littering the floor and globs of toothpaste in the sink. There was none of that in the room she was currently standing in. The towel he’d used that morning was draped across the top of the shower bar, and the sink, with the exception of a few hairs from where he’d shaved, was clean.
Although Megan was tempted to explore some more—especially since she no longer saw Paul as only her employer, but a man she desperately wanted to get closer to—she went to the medicine cabinet, and found some cough syrup. Grabbing that, along with a glass of water in case he got thirsty during the night, Megan headed back into the bedroom.
Paul hadn’t moved.
“I found some cough syrup for you. I didn’t see anything specifically for the flu in there, so I’ll have to go to the store and pick something up.”
“Not tonight.”
There was an edge of panic in his voice, and Megan immediately understood why. Even though she knew his reaction was irrational, it was also telling. “I’ll wait and go in the morning, if that would make you feel better.”
He took a sip of the water she’d set on the nightstand. “Thank you.”
Megan sat down on the edge of the bed.
“What?”
She folded her hands in her lap. It was the only way she could keep from reaching out and touching him. “Nothing.”
Paul sat up a little straighter. “Come on. You can tell me. I’m not that sick.”
He punctuated his comment with another cough.
Megan reached out automatically to touch his arm, right above his wrist.
Instead of pushing her away, however, Paul gripped her hand and squeezed. “I’m okay. Or I will be.”
She nodded, and for a few minutes, Megan sat and watched their hands pressed together. “Did you need anything? I can make you some soup.”
As if the bubble had burst, Paul released her hand, and pulled the covers higher. “No, I’m good. I need some rest, that’s all.”
Megan stood. “I’ll let you get some sleep.”
She walked to the door, and stepped out into the hall. “Megan?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you. For taking care of me, I mean.”
Megan smiled at him before pulling the door closed. She headed to her room, and stripped out of her clothes before padding naked to her bathroom. If Paul was sick, she knew she’d have to be extra diligent about keeping herself and the house clean. She’d also have to try to keep Chloe away from her dad for a few days while he recovered. The last thing any of them needed was for the little girl to fall sick days before she was supposed to go off with her grandparents.
Paul woke up the next morning feeling worse than he had when he’d gone to bed. He hated being sick. His mouth felt as though he’d swallowed a mouthful of cotton balls, and his throat as if it were lined with sandpaper.
He took a small drink of what was left of the water Megan had given him the night before, and winced as the lukewarm liquid slid down his throat. Paul had hoped a good night’s sleep would have cured him, but that was wishful thinking on his part. Most of the department had come down with it.
With a groan, he fumbled for his cell phone, and dialed his boss. Once that was out of the way, he sent a quick text to Janey. She’d picked up that he wasn’t feeling well when they’d parted ways the day before. Paul didn’t think she’d be all that surprised that he wouldn’t be going into work. Janey had only been back to work a week herself, after being out sick for four days.
It only took a minute or two for Janey to reply.
I got it covered. Call me if you need anything.
Everyone had been pulling extra hours trying to cover for those out sick. Paul would like to say those extra hours involved trying to catch their serial killer, but sadly, that wasn’t the case. One day last week, he’d even had to go out on patrol because they were stretched so thin. Things were beginning to get better, people were coming back to work, and everything was getting back to normal. He and Janey had been hoping to sit down with their files today and reassess. It looked as though she’d be doing that on her own.
Heaving himself up out of the bed, Paul stumbled into the bathroom to take care of business and splash some cold water on his face. He looked horrible. It was difficult to say whether he looked worse than he felt or if he felt worse than he looked. Deciding he was too sick to care, he turned off the bathroom light and went back to bed.
Paul figured he must have fallen asleep again because the next time he opened his eyes, the sun was a lot brighter as it streamed in through the windows. He blinked, trying to shield his eyes, as a piercing pain shot through his head.
A light tapping noise on the door caused him more anguish, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the light.
He heard someone enter his bedroom, and pried his eyelids open against the light to see who it was. As much as he wanted to see his daughter, Chloe needed to keep her distance until he beat this bug or else she’d come down with it as well. It might even keep her from being able to go on her summer vacation with her grandparents, and Paul knew how much she was looking forward to seeing them. Melissa’s parents had always been a huge part of Chloe’s life from the time she was born—they’d only lived three miles away. With their move two hours north, Chloe had only seen them a handful of times in the last six months. It had been an adjustment. For all of them.
“Hey.”
Megan stepped forward, blocking a good portion of the light. Some of the pain eased, and he released a sigh. There might also have been something else—calm, maybe—but he wasn’t going to dwell on that. “Hey.”
She must have noticed him squinting, because the next thing Paul knew, she was marching over to the windows and pulling the curtains closed.
“Better?” Megan asked as she returned to stand beside his bed.
“Yes. Thank you.” He tried to sit up, and without him asking, Megan readjusted the pillows behind him. “You know you shouldn’t get too close. You’ll catch it, too.”
“Well, if I do, you’ll just have to take care of me then, won’t you?” She sauntered across the room, and returned with a tray that held two pieces of toast and some tea.
Although he wasn’t really hungry, Paul knew he needed to eat. He hadn’t eaten much for dinner the night before, and if he wanted to kick this cold, he would need his strength. Why did every inch of his body have to ache?
Megan set the tray over his lap, and Paul picked up one of the pieces of toast. He was weak, and it irritated him. Paul was used to taking care of things, including himself. “I didn’t ask you to take care of me. I’m perfectly capable—”
“Stop being a baby.” Megan swiped his empty water glass from the nightstand, and strolled, unperturbed, into the bathroom.
When she returned with his refilled glass, she had a rather serious look on her face. “What?”
She set the glass down and crossed her arms over her chest. Even in his less than stellar state, Paul couldn’t help but notice the way the motion pushed her breasts up, making them look fuller. Megan wasn’t overly endowed in that area, but he had firsthand knowledge of how well they fit into the palm of his hand.
He suppressed a groan as his body reacted in spite of his condition.
Megan’s expression softened, and she rushed to get him another dose of painkillers. She’d misinterpreted his reaction. T
hat was probably a good thing. He didn’t think he could fight her off right now.
Without argument, Paul swallowed the pills. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
She didn’t cross her arms again, which sent a wave of disappointment through him.
“Something on your mind?” He figured he might as well have her get whatever it was out of her system.
Megan met his gaze. She looked weary, but determined. “Cindy called this morning. Melissa’s mom. She asked for you, and I told her that you were sick.”
Okay, not what he’d been expecting. He opened his mouth to ask what she wanted, but coughed instead.
Megan handed him the tea.
He took a sip. It still felt as if there were tiny nails coating his throat, but at least it suppressed his urge to cough. “Thanks.”
She frowned. “I’ll add cough drops to the shopping list. I wanted to see if there was anything specific you wanted before Chloe and I head to the store.”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“Okay.”
Megan shifted her weight. She was nervous about something, and he figured it had to have something to do with her conversation with his mother-in-law.
“What did Cindy say?”
“Well, when I explained that you were sick, she . . .”
Paul waited for Megan to go on, but she didn’t. “Did Cindy say something to upset you?”
He didn’t think Cindy would do such a thing, but he guessed it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. When he’d told his in-laws that Megan was moving in with him and Chloe six months ago, Cindy and George had both been concerned—Cindy more so than George. To his knowledge, Cindy had never voiced those concerns to Megan.
“No. Not exactly.”
Paul was trying to have patience, but given all he wanted to do was close his eyes and sleep for the foreseeable future, her stalling was grating on his nerves. “Spit it out.”
Megan jerked at his tone, and of course, his gruff reply sent him into another round of coughing.
This time, she didn’t hand him his tea. He guessed he deserved that. “Sorry.”
“I know you aren’t feeling well, and men tend to be babies of the highest order when they’re sick, but that doesn’t give you the right to be rude to me. I’m trying to help.”
“I know, and I appreciate it. I do.” Paul sighed. “What did Cindy say to you?”
“She said that since you’re sick, she and George would come get Chloe early. That way, you could rest and get better faster. Plus, she said this way, hopefully Chloe wouldn’t catch whatever you have.”
“So when are they coming?”
Megan bit the inside of her lip. “They’ll be here this afternoon.”
Paul didn’t know what to think. In a way he was glad they would be taking Chloe early. She was set to leave in five days, and if Janey’s illness was anything to go by, it would take him nearly that long to recover, anyway. It wasn’t as if he’d get to spend any real quality time with her before she left. Still, it was always difficult handing his little girl off for any extended period of time. “I guess this means you can head down to Nashville and visit your sister a little sooner.”
Megan looked at him as if he’d grown two heads. “You think I’m going to go off and leave you here alone? When you’re like this? Not a chance, mister. You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”
“I’m a big boy, Megan. I’ve been sick before. I can take care of myself.”
She shook her head like a disapproving parent, and strolled toward the door. “Chloe and I are going to the store. Eat your breakfast, and leave the tray by the bed. I’ll come get it when I get back.”
Without waiting for his response, Megan left his room, and closed the door behind her.
Paul leaned back against his headboard, and looked toward the ceiling. He was in some serious trouble. Megan’s flight to Nashville didn’t leave for five days. He’d been relying on Chloe being around to create a buffer between them. It had worked in the past. What was he going to do with her gone? He and Megan alone in the house together wasn’t a good combination. Sure, he was sick, but unlike with Chloe, that didn’t mean Megan would keep her distance—the last twelve hours had already proven that.
He took a drink of the peppermint tea Megan had brought with his breakfast, and sighed as the warmth coated his throat. Her taking care of him wasn’t helping. Paul didn’t get sick often. The last time it happened, his wife had still been alive, and Chloe hadn’t yet been conceived. Melissa had brought him tea and juice and made sure his blankets and pillows were just so.
The memory of Megan adjusting his pillows caused a pang of longing in the pit of his stomach. There was one problem, though. He didn’t know if he was longing for Melissa or Megan, and that brought him up short. The two women were so very different. How could he be having this pull toward Megan when, at the same time, he missed his wife?
It didn’t make sense, but then again not much had made sense in his life for the last two months—not since Chris and Elizabeth’s wedding.
Chapter 13
The moment Megan told Chloe they were going to the store to pick up some medicine for her dad, the little girl began asking questions. From the sound of it, Paul had never been sick—or at least, not that Chloe could remember. Chloe only had one parent left. She didn’t want him to go away, too.
It was then Megan truly understood the little girl’s freak-out when she’d thought Megan was going to leave. To think that one of the two people at the center of her world was going away, especially after she was already missing her mother in her life, was a scary prospect for a five-year-old.
The questions continued in the store. “What’s this for, Megan?”
“It makes it so you don’t cough.”
Megan moved on to the next item on her list.
“What about that?” Chloe asked when Megan placed a box of tea in the cart.
It went on like that as they weaved their way through the store.
When they arrived home, Chloe helped Megan bring the groceries inside. Chloe was still worried about her dad, and Megan knew she would have to keep the little girl’s mind off things until her grandparents arrived. Megan gathered what they’d need to make several batches of cookies. Chloe loved to bake, and they’d spent many hours in the kitchen making cakes and brownies over the last few months.
When Chloe found out what they were doing, her face lit up like it was Christmas morning. She rushed into the kitchen, grabbed her apron, and stood in the middle of the floor waiting impatiently.
Megan laughed. “Did you wash your hands?”
Chloe frowned, and ran into the small bathroom down the hall where there was a stool she used to reach the sink.
Hearing the water turn on, Megan used the time to unload and separate what they’d bought. She was almost finished when Chloe ambled back into the kitchen, wiping her hands on her little apron. “Can we make the cookies now?”
Megan attempted to hide her smile. “Not quite yet. We need to find a recipe first. Can you grab that book over there on the shelf that says cookies?”
Without waiting for any further instruction, Chloe went to the bookcase Megan indicated, the one where all the cookbooks Melissa had owned were stored. A couple of minutes later, the little girl brought the blue and tan book with the word cookies in big bold lettering. “I gots it, Megan. Now what?”
Chloe’s eagerness was infectious. It was one of the things Megan loved about her. “I need you to sit down here at the table and find us a recipe for chocolate chip cookies. Do you think you can find all those words?”
The little girl nodded, and quickly took a seat, opening the book.
This time Megan didn’t hide her smile. “I’m going to run these things up to your dad real quick, then I’ll be back down and we can start making the cookies, okay?”
“I have to stay away so I don’t get sick.” Chloe repeated the explanation Megan had given her bot
h the night before and again that morning.
It was also the explanation Megan had given Chloe when she’d explained that Chloe’s grandparents were coming to pick her up early. Chloe had been torn. She missed her grandparents and longed to spend more time with them, but she was also afraid for her father. After several reassurances, and letting Chloe know that she could call her daddy anytime she wanted while she was with her grandparents, she seemed more at ease with the idea. Megan wouldn’t go as far as to say she was excited. She only hoped Cindy understood that she would have to keep Chloe extra occupied for the next few days.
Megan knocked lightly on Paul’s bedroom door before cracking it open to peer inside. He was lying in bed with his eyes closed, but as she walked into the room, he opened them.
“You’re back.”
“Yeah. I brought you some things I thought you might need.” She handed him the bag and he took a look inside. Going through the grocery store, Megan had picked up anything she thought he might need, from things to settle his stomach to those proclaiming to help fight the flu.
He coughed and promptly pulled out the bag of throat lozenges. “Thanks.”
“Did you need anything else at the moment? Chloe and I are going to make some cookies. I figure that will keep her busy until Cindy gets here.”
“Good idea.” Paul coughed.
She frowned, but after he assured her that he didn’t need anything else, Megan headed back downstairs.
When she strolled into the kitchen, Chloe had already dug out the mixing bowl, the flour, and several measuring cups.
“Were you going to start without me?”
The little girl smiled up at her. “I’s got everything ready, Megan.”
Megan laughed and shook her head as she picked up the recipe book Chloe had left lying on the table. Sure enough, it was open to a recipe for old-fashioned chocolate chip cookies.
For the next three hours, Megan and Chloe worked side by side making cookies. Megan knew she and Paul would be eating cookies for weeks—even if Megan sent two to three dozen with Cindy. Baking had done the job, though. Chloe smiled and laughed freely. There was no sign of the furrowed brow that had been present early that morning.
