Just Fooling Around(13)
The idiot was lucky that it was cold medicine he’d grabbed, not something more lethal. Still, at least it brought him the peace he so desperately needed.
Finally she understood.
Her hand stroked through his hair, studying the dark lashes that lay so innocently on his cheek. Like a boy.
The stubble on his jaw proclaimed something more. As did the marks on her breasts.
The buzzer on his apartment rang forty-seven times, his cell beeped incessantly until she turned it off. There was a broken water pipe on the floor above, and the spreading stain on the ceiling was almost hypnotic to watch grow, but Jenna didn’t leave.
She stayed in Cam’s bed, holding him in her arms, stroking his hair and jealously guarding his sleep.
She’d come here expecting to help him, to save him from his devils, but instead, she’d found something new. A piece of herself that she liked, that she enjoyed, that she treasured.
Mentally, she high-fived the loose harlot that she’d discovered inside. Right now, she felt relaxed, alive, desired.
She owed him more than he ever knew. When he woke up, she’d tell him that. For now, she leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to his mouth.
Exhausted from lack of sleep, Jenna closed her eyes, hearing the buzzer ring. Let whoever it was believe that Cam Franklin wasn’t home. Let them think that Cam Franklin was somewhere out risking life and limb.
Right now, there was only one task for her, and it was a big one. While on her watch, Cam was finally going to be safe.
6
April 2, 12:37 a.m.
CAM WOKE SLOWLY, scanning the disaster site that had been his bedroom, but there were no injuries, no blood. He pushed his face into his pillow and smiled.
No pillow.
Jenna.
He pressed a grateful kiss to the inviting skin, and then frowned as the previous night’s events clicked back into place.
The clock was now on, and he realized it was 12:27 a.m. on April 2. Cautiously he flexed his hands—no bruising, no fractures. The rest of him seemed to be fine, too.
Had he slept through the entire day? Nah. It was impossible.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” she murmured, turning on the light.
Jenna.
He lifted his head, unhappy to notice that she was sleeping in his bed with her red dress back on. Not that it had to stay on.
“Did it go away?”
She knew what he was talking about. The Curse. It with a capital I. “You slept the entire day. Welcome to April Two.”
“You’re sure.”
She clicked on the television, and he watched the date and time crawl on the news channel. She was right.
“I have some connections, but not that good.”
“What happened?”
“You grabbed the cold medicine instead of aspirin.”
Groggily he rubbed his head. “I don’t have cold medicine.”
“Apparently you’ve forgotten about it, because it’s here,” she replied.
The words played in his head, new implications, new ideas, new plans. Plans with Jenna. Cam sat up, stretched his arms, feeling amazingly good. “I can’t believe it—April second.”
“Live and in person.”
“And nothing bad happened?”
“You might need a need roof at some point,” she stated, pointing to the wet patch on the ceiling.
“No HazMat scares, no mislaid laundry, no misdelivered packages of live snakes?”
“Sure, there were a few things.”
“Bad?”
“You should have seen me with the IRS auditor. Masterful. He won’t be back.” She smiled at him then, not so cool, not so detached, and a charge of lust shot through to his groin.
“You really stayed all day? Why?”
Her hands plucked at the sheets of his bed, a faint blush on her cheeks. “For the great sex.”
“Like there was any doubt,” he said, because sex was the least of his problems.
She gently laid a hand over his. “And for you. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Casually Cam rolled his shoulders, a nonchalant gesture to indicate that it had never mattered whether he was alone or not. Jenna stared at him as if she didn’t believe him. Cam didn’t mind.
“I’m kinda liking having my own personal doc. It’s convenient.”
“And cheap.”
“Are we talking frugal or tawdry?”
This time, she rolled a shoulder, a nonchalant gesture to indicate that it didn’t matter, and he covered her mouth, not so nonchalant, because it mattered.
She mattered.
He pulled her close, held her tight, fiercely tight, feeling the quiver within her. That quiet shudder always gave her away.
“Doc?”
Jenna looked at him, and despite the dim of the room, he saw something warm and good. Something that made him realize he would never be the same. “Yeah?” she asked.