by Gina Drayer
As it happened, Liam was less than thrilled to give out Kira’s personal information.
“We keep that information for taxes and verification,” he said, “but I don’t pass out employees’ home addresses to everyone.”
“I’m not everyone,” Jason said. I’m her—what? Friend—maybe more. Much more if she’d just let me. “I’m her boss.”
“I know, but you can’t just show up at her house,” Liam said, frowning. “There are laws protecting employees’ privacy.”
“Just give me the file,” Jason said.
Liam reluctantly went over to the tall cabinet in the corner of his office and pulled it. With a shake of his head, he handed it over.
Jason ignored the other man and scribbled down her address. “Thanks,” he said, handing back the file.
Liam grunted and turned toward the cabinet.
Now that that was done, Jason just needed to figure out what he was going to say when he got there. He glanced at the clock. It wasn’t quite lunch yet. Whenever he was sick, his mother would make him chicken soup. Maybe if he showed up with food it would be less awkward.
Just after noon, following a quick stop at a local deli, Jason was knocking on her front door with a carton of warm soup. She lived on a residential street lined with multi-unit condos. Hers was modest but obviously well-maintained with pots of bright flowers lining her porch.
He was about to knock again when suddenly it opened. Kira, wrapped in a giant quilt and wearing glasses, took one look at him and frowned.
“Jason…” She coughed and pulled the quilt tighter around her body. “Why are you here? Is something wrong at work?”
“I heard you were sick,” he said and held up the bag with the soup as if that were his golden ticket g. “I have chicken noodle.”
“I have soup here.” She leaned against the door and her eyes drifted shut.
“I wanted to check on you. I was worried,” he said, giving her a once-over. Her skin was pasty white, except for the bright red spots on her cheeks. “You look awful.”
“Thanks,” she said flatly. She tried adjusting the giant quilt again and set off a coughing fit. She swayed and reached out to steady herself, dropping the heavy wrap to the floor.
“Come on, let’s get you back to bed,” he said, moving around her to set the soup down on a nearby table. “Then you can eat something. Have you eaten anything today?”
“I’m fine.” But her denial set off another coughing fit. This time when she reached out to steady herself, she missed the wall and nearly fell. Jason caught her, his arm sliding around her waist to steady her.
“Just a little lightheaded. This cold has been awful.” Kira sniffled.
“I’m definitely not leaving you alone. Up we go.” He swept her up into his arms and carried her to the back of house. “Which way to your room?”
“Jason, I don’t think—”
“Never mind. I’ll find it myself.” It wasn’t difficult. There were only three options. “Now, stay here.”
After settling her into bed, he went back for the forgotten quilt.
He pulled the covers up over her and looked around the room. Crumpled tissues and empty water bottles littered the nightstand and the floor around it, along with an assortment of cough syrups and cough drops.
“Don’t look around. It’s a mess,” she moaned and sunk into her pillow.
“Of course it is. You’ve been sick.” The pink stain on her cheeks got even darker. She probably had a fever on top of the cough. He felt her forehead and frowned. She was burning up. Maybe they should skip the soup and call a doctor instead. “When’s the last time you’ve taken your temperature?”
She made a face. “Jason, I’m a grown woman. You don’t have to do this.”
“I know that. But you don’t have to do everything yourself, either.” He snagged the thermometer hiding in the mess on the nightstand and waited for her to open her mouth. She rolled her eyes before giving in. When it beeped, he saw that she had a fever hovering around 101 degrees. Not great, but not deadly, either.
“I’ll get you some Advil with the chicken soup. Do you have Gatorade or anything? You’re probably dehydrated.”
“In the fridge.” Her eyelids fluttered again, closing after a moment, and he had to restrain a smile as he saw her try to battle her fatigue.
After he took her a bowl of soup, Gatorade, and some Advil, Jason went back to the kitchen. The dishes piled high in the sink seemed so incongruent with the rest of the house. Once the leftovers were put away, he decide to load the dishwasher while he was at it. It felt a little strange to be rooting around her kitchen alone, but under the circumstances, he felt like he needed to make himself at home.
The running water from the sink must have masked the sounds of the front door opening because Jason didn’t realize he wasn’t alone anymore until he heard a voice from behind him.
“What are you doing?”
He jumped, and dropped the bowl he’d been washing. Swearing, he turned to see a teenage girl staring at him from the kitchen door. She didn’t seem scared, just annoyed that some strange man was in her house.
“I’m doing the dishes,” he replied.
The girl gave him a strange look. “The dishes?”
She shambled into the room and dropped her bag on the table. That’s when he noticed the crutch and the way her leg seemed to turn in on itself.
“Who are you? Where’s my mom?”
“I’m Jason. I work with your mom.” He watched as the girl walked farther into the kitchen, her body leaning to the side with the crutch. “Are you Riley?”
“I don’t understand what’s going on,” she said with a slight studder, and wrinkled her brow. “Where’s my mom?”
He remembered Kira saying something about her daughter’s health being an issue, but he didn’t realize she had a disability. That explained a lot things, but it was something he needed to think about later. Right now he needed to make sure Riley wasn’t scared. “Your mom is sick.” He said the words slowly. He didn’t know how much the girl could understand.
She snagged an apple from a bowl on the ledge and took a large bite. “But why are you here?” she asked just as slow.
“I work with your mom. At her job. My name’s Jason.” He smiled, trying to make Riley be at ease. “Your mom is very nice,” he added, keeping his voice calm and slow.
“Really?” Riley sighed and shook her head. “Jason, why are you here? In our kitchen,” she said, her tone matching his.
Jason felt completely at sea. Hadn’t he already told her why he was here? Did she just not understand what he was saying? Outside of the mild stutter, she seemed to be able to communicate just fine. Maybe she was hard of hearing? He had no idea what was wrong with her other than she used a crutch.
“Your mom needs rest. I am helping.” Jason held up the sponge and washed out a cup to show her what he was doing.
Riley rolled her eyes and moved around him to open the fridge. Her gait was awkward and he thought she was going fall, so he took her arm.
Evidently that was the wrong thing to do. She wrenched away and smacked his shin with her crutch, displeasure clear on her face.
“Dude, I don’t need your help. And spoiler alert: just because I walk weird doesn’t mean I’m stupid. So stop treating me like I’m a baby or something.” She grabbed a can of soda from the fridge and stalked out of the kitchen.
Jesus, he’d made an ass of himself, hadn’t he? He was about to run after Riley and apologize, but he thought better of it. She wasn’t in the mood to hear his excuses. He couldn’t really blame her for that, either.
But he also felt another emotion: relief. Or rather, understanding. Kira had talked about how her marriage had fallen apart soon after Riley’s birth. That her husband couldn’t deal with all the pressure—the strain of raising a child that needed a lot of attention.
He’d assumed she meant Riley had been a clingy child, and that her dead husband was an asshole wh
o’d shirked his responsibilities. But now everything clicked into place. It explained why she was so guarded and why her daughter took up so much of her life. But he still thought Riley’s father was an asshole. How could he have chosen the military over raising his own daughter—disability or not?
Because of his choices, her husband had died overseas, leaving her completely alone.
He leaned back against the fridge, inhaling deeply. Although it was helpful to know why Kira was so guarded. She had a good reason—more than one good reason—to push him away.
Maybe he just needed to show her the reasons why they should be together.
Kira dozed for a bit but woke up when she heard the front door open. Groaning as she slowly got out of bed, she put on her slippers and left the quilt behind so Riley wouldn’t see how sick she was.
Kira never got sick. There was the occasional cold in the winter, but nothing that had knocked her off of her feet like this. She couldn’t afford to be this sick. She had too much to do, too much on her plate to be stuck in bed all day.
As she walked down the hallway as slowly as an old woman, she heard voices. Riley asking Jason why he was here. Her heart pounded. She’d assumed he’d just let himself out after she fell back asleep. But he was still here. Why was he still here?
She listened as her daughter’s voice became more sarcastic, and Kira knew this conversation wasn’t going to end well. Jason’s voice got louder and slower. Kira winced. Yeah, Riley would love that. She should have said something to him.
“Dude, I don’t need your help. And spoiler alert: just because I walk weird doesn’t mean I’m stupid. So stop treating me like I’m a baby or something,” she heard Riley say, and now she was really embarrassed.
She headed straight to the living room. “Riley Grace!” she hissed as her daughter plopped onto the couch. “You do not get to talk to people like that!”
Riley made a face. “Your friend’s a jerk.” She raised her voice loud enough for Jason to hear in the kitchen. “I’m not stupid and I don’t like being treated that way.”
“I know, but you could have been politer about it. I want you to apologize to Jason right now.”
“I’m not apologizing!” Riley squawked. “Did you hear how he talked to me? He’s the one who should be apologizing.”
“You know well enough that sometimes people don’t understand when they first meet you. Jason is a nice guy.”
Her daughter made a face but didn’t protest. Kira let out a breath and leaned against the wall. The walk down the hall had worn her out. She just wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep for another twelve hours. Her head was pounding, and although her fever had gone down, she was still freezing. Why was it so cold in this stupid house?
“I’m going to go talk to Jason,” she said as she was leaving the living room, “and you need to apologize before he goes. I mean it, Riley.”
“Fiiiiiiine.”
Kira needed to get Jason out of here. For one, she hated him seeing her like this, and for another, it was just weird. They didn’t really know each other. He was her boss. Nothing more than that.
You don’t kiss your boss, the voice in the back of her head reminded her.
“Kira.” Jason guided her to a bar stool like she was some delicate invalid.
“I’m sorry about Riley. She has cerebral palsy and a lot of people assume she’s mentally disabled. It’s made her sensitive. She doesn’t really open up to new people.”
“It must run in the family.” He leaned against the counter, assessing her. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” He raised an eyebrow, so she added, “All right, I feel like poo, but I’m already feeling better. You don’t need to stay here. You don’t want to catch whatever it is I have.”
“I’ll take my chances.” He smiled, and her heart did its usual pitter-pat at the sight. “I know you had soup earlier, but do you feel up to something more? I thought I could make dinner.”
“Jason—”
“No protests,” he said, holding up his hand. “Just accept it.”
The fever had to be back because she just nodded and sat down. Jason started digging through the cupboards, and in a daze she watched him move around the kitchen as though it were a familiar routine. It was so … domestic. And the strangest part was that it didn’t seem weird at all. It was almost nice. God, what was wrong with her?
“Is there any food you or Riley hates?”
“Riley hates peas,” she said finally.
“Okay, no peas. Will a quiche work? I make a mean quiche.” He pulled out eggs, milk, broccoli, and Canadian bacon from the fridge.
“Jason, really, you don’t have to do this.”
“And I’m saying that you should accept my help.” He pulled a bowl from the cabinet and grinned. “Now, do you like swiss or cheddar?”
Riley eventually came into the kitchen to watch Jason cook, and although she didn’t apologize, Jason seem to have moved on. In fact, after some initial awkwardness, the two began bantering back and forth like old friends. Jason wasn’t at all cowed by her teenage sarcasm. Riley even helped him figure out how to work their ancient oven.
“You have to set it 100 degrees less than normal,” Riley said, adjusting the temperature, “because the thermometer’s off.”
“I’m glad you told me. I’d hate to burn this beautiful quiche of mine.”
Riley wrinkled her nose. “Quiche? Isn’t that old people food?”
“Do you like omelets?”
“I guess.”
“It’s like a dinner omelet but it’s baked like a pie.” He gave her one of his grins. “Besides, if you don’t like it, it’s leftover soup for you.”
She stuck her tongue out. “Jerk.”
“Brat.”
Kira watched them, not sure if she was more confused by the fact they were suddenly getting along, or that Jason was the type of guy who got along with kids. Teenagers were such complex creatures, and she couldn’t blame anyone for deciding not to engage with one simply out of self-preservation. But Jason teased Riley like ... well, like a father would.
Her heart clenched, and she had to blink back tears. She needed to get it together. She wasn’t even dating Jason and she sure as hell wasn’t going to make him Riley’s step-dad.
When Kira tried to set the table, she had another coughing fit. Jason told her to sit down and do absolutely nothing. Riley took over, and Kira just watched them. Maybe she was hallucinating from all of the cough medicine she’d taken in the last forty-eight hours.
“So what do you do for fun?” he asked Riley as they put down plates and cups.
Her daughter shrugged. “Go to the mall, see a movie. I can’t exactly do sports or anything. Or at least any sport that would be fun.”
“Riley plays the flute,” Kira couldn’t help but interject.
“Mooooom.”
“Oh really?” Jason asked. “I tried to play the saxophone in high school but failed miserably.”
“Well, I’m good. I got first chair. It’s been seven years since a freshman has been first chair for any instrument.”
Kira bit back a smile. Riley had gotten her competitive streak, for sure.
Jason brought in dinner and Kira dug into the quiche, suddenly starving. It was delicious. Even Riley thought so.
“Don’t sound so surprised, you guys,” he teased.
Kira blushed. “I don’t know a lot of single guys who cook.”
“My mom trained me well. I can even do laundry.”
“I don’t understand why guys can’t do their own laundry,” Riley said. “It’s easy.”
“I have many skills,” he said and smiled at Kira, like they had an inside joke. She wasn’t sure what the joke was supposed to be, but her entire body heated as he gazed at her. “Ask your mom.”
Kira kicked him the shin; he coughed into his water glass.
After eating and cleaning up, Jason said he needed to head out.
“You won’t s-st
ay and watch Netflix with us?” Riley pouted, sticking her lower lip as far out as it would go.
He laughed a little. “Maybe another time. Your mom is tired and should get back to bed. Take care of her, okay?”
Riley nodded, but Kira wanted to walk him out. “Thank you. For everything.”
His gaze was warm as he took her in. He looked like he wanted to touch her, but Riley was just in the other room, watching them like some disapproving chaperone at a school dance.
“I wanted to do it.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Get better soon. I miss having you around.”
Kira returned to the living room in a daze. Had Jason really come over, made dinner, and hung out with them? Her mind couldn’t wrap around it all.
Riley was flipping through Netflix, trying to find something to watch. “I liked him,” she said without being asked.
“Even though you were mad at him earlier?”
The girl shrugged. “He didn’t get all defensive about it like most people do. Plus, he’s cute.” Her gaze landed on Kira. “Are you guys going out?”
“No!” Riley raised a questioning eyebrow, so Kira added in a calmer tone, “We’re not dating. He’s just a co-worker. Or boss. We’re friends.”
“Uh-huh. You know, I may only be fifteen, but I’m not stupid. I know about men.”
Kira smiled, trying hard not to laugh. “Do you, now?”
“Don’t look at me like that. I know that guys don’t come over to a girl’s house, make them dinner, just because they’re friends. If you’re not dating already, this is his way of saying he wants to.”
Kira didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t even know if she could classify what she had with Jason as friendship. It was like a stalled relationship or something. She was attracted to him, and he was attracted to her, and they may have kissed and had that night in the hotel but …
Riley finally decided on a Food Network show, and the sound of some celebrity chef yelling about BBQ filled the room.
“I think you should go out with him,” she said decisively.
If Kira had been drinking anything, she would be choking right now. “That is not going to happen.”
