Recalling the Tylenol in the bathroom, she left the room and returned with them and a cup of water. As he lay back against her pillows she sat beside him and could hear his teeth chattering. She looked into his eyes and her heart contracted as she saw how red-rimmed they were. That wasn’t just from whiskey and getting sick. That was emotional pain, too. She wanted very badly to put her arms around him but feared he wouldn’t welcome it.
“I’ll sleep just for a little while. I’m sorry, Lucy. I don’t mean to put you out of your bed. I hope I don’t make you sick. I didn’t feel this bad earlier this evening or I never would’ve suggested going out.”
“You’re not putting me out of my bed. The thing is huge if you haven’t noticed.” We’d all three fit if we had a mind to. “And I’ve had my flu shot so I should be fine. For now just relax, okay?”
He nodded and closed his eyes, giving in to fatigue as she laid the covers over him.
She held her hand out. “Can I have the towel please?”
His eyes flashed open and the little inner sadist in her enjoyed the turmoil in his expression. “I’ll be naked.”
“I gathered as much. But I don’t want you sleeping with a damp towel around you.” Crying shame to have a sexy nekkid man in my bed and can’t do a damned thing with him.
After a short inner debate, Beck finally squirmed around and handed her the towel with a frown. “I hope you’re happy.”
“I’m not, Beck. You’re sick and you need someone to take care of you.”
His head fell back on the pillows again and she put her palm to his burning forehead. He reached up and stroked her hand with his rough one. “Thank you, honey,” he whispered weakly, and she could hear his teeth chatter again.
Honey. It was unusual for him to use an endearment with her. It probably meant nothing in his feverish state.
After placing the wastebasket by the bed, she coaxed him to turn on his side and laid another light throw on top of the blanket that covered him before turning off the lamp. “Sleep, Beck. I’ll be nearby with Patrick if you need me.”
He nodded, and she could see in the dim room that his eyes were already closed.
She grabbed Patrick’s shirt from the bathroom and after putting it and Beck’s clean clothing into the dryer, Lucy joined Patrick in the living room as he watched the weather forecast. “It looks like we’re in for more rain tomorrow.”
Patrick was a sight, sitting bare-chested on her couch, and she enjoyed eyeing that sexy trail of hair that led to his waistband. Imagining how it’d look below the waist of his jeans had her cunt clenching with desire for him. The wait was getting old and sometimes she questioned herself. Thinking of the man in the next room—irascible though he might be—kept her hoping and waiting. But at least she could enjoy the view while they talked.
“Want me to put your jeans in the dryer?” she asked, unable to resist the hint of a smile on her face.
Patrick’s eyes twinkled as he replied. “Under the circumstances, it’d be best if you didn’t, but I appreciate your thoughtfulness.” The heat in his eyes suggested if he let her do that then they’d need to make use of the bed and with Beck in it the timing just wasn’t right. Lucy was okay with that because they needed to talk anyway. The moment felt like a turning point of sorts.
She picked up the remote and the television screen went black and silent, cutting off the droning of the weather announcer in midsentence. “Talk to me, Patrick.”
His eyes were half-lidded so she couldn’t read his emotions. “About what?”
Lucy sat down close beside him and angled so she faced him a little. “If we have a hope of making something between us work, there can’t be any more deep, dark secrets.”
Chapter Two
Patrick shifted uncomfortably. He much preferred keeping it light between the two of them but the determined glint in her eyes told him that his attempts at evading her curiosity were at an end. “It’s not so much deep and dark as it is humiliating, Luce.”
Lucy picked his hand up off of his knee and Patrick hoped she wouldn’t notice how clammy his palm was at the thought of telling her about his ex-wife. She manipulated his hand between hers, pressing the pads of her fingertips into the muscles in his palms. An electrical charge sizzled up his arm as she tugged his fingers through hers and placed his hand on her thigh and worked her way up his forearm. Along with arousal, there followed a sense of relaxation, and Patrick watched her graceful hands with fascination.
“Patrick?”
“Huh?”