“How would you know?”
“My old man suffered from enough hangovers in his time.”
She wrapped her hands around the cold glass. “I wasn’t drunk.”
“Upset stomach. Close enough, now drink. Then we’ll talk.”
Her eyelashes fluttered down and she complied with his command. Almost immediately, the rolling in her stomach had begun to ease.
“Better?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Now has this happened before?”
“Not like this. I work nights and with the stress of the last couple of months... I’m just tired.” Her stomach chose that moment to remind them both that she hadn’t eaten all day.
He grinned at the loud rumbling that echoed in the kitchen.
“And hungry,” she admitted.
“I already dumped the eggs.”
“I couldn’t get those down anyway.” She doubted much of anything would sit well in her stomach, except... “Do you have any ice cream?” she asked hopefully, licking her lips at the thought of the cold treat easing its way down her parched throat.
“Yes.”
“And french fries?”
“You’re kidding.”
She shook her head. “Now that I’ve gotten my appetite back, I have this urge for french fries, too. Any in the freezer?”
He raised an eyebrow at her unusual request. “Sorry, but no.”
“Then it’s a good thing there’s an all-night fast food place near my apartment.” She graced him with a smile. “We can stop by... on my way home,” she said pointedly.
“You obviously can’t wait to get away from me. Fine, but from the looks of things you’ve been neglecting your health, and that’s got to stop.”
She glanced down at her too-thin body. Overwork and exhaustion had taken their toll. She shouldn’t care that he looked and found her lacking, but vanity won out. She more than cared... and didn’t appreciate the silent admission. “Thanks for the compliment,” she said wryly. “And here I thought I’ve never looked better.”
His eyes fell to her chest, then traced a heated path over the rest of her body and up again. Her breasts tightened and swelled beneath his visual caress. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, uncomfortable under his scrutiny.
“Ice cream and french fries isn’t exactly a typical combination.”
She shrugged. “Works for me. Can we go?”
“In a minute.”
“I don’t have a minute. It’s almost four in the morning and I have to work tomorrow night. That means I need a decent meal and sleep... not necessarily in that order.”
He braced his hands on his thighs and rose from his seat, crossing until he stood before her. His strong hand reached out and touched her cheek. The pad of his thumb stroked beneath her eye. “Looks to me like you haven’t been getting much of either. Sleep or food. But I’ll go along for now. French fries it is.”
She followed him toward the garage, her gaze taking in his broad shoulders, the narrowed waist and the way his denim jeans hugged his behind. Memories and need assailed her.
She didn’t want this pull toward him complicating the life she was just beginning to build. “And then we’ll go home?” she asked.
His gaze settled on hers, intense and serious. “Yes, Nikki. And then we’ll go home.”
* * *
Kevin watched as Nikki inhaled french fries and a burger, as if she hadn’t eaten in ages. He would have found the sight amusing, if he wasn’t so concerned.
“French fry?” she asked, holding the bag out toward him.
“No thanks.”
She shrugged. “That’s okay. More for me.”
He didn’t know whether to tell her not to overdo it or to let her make up for lost time. Before he could decide, she distracted him with a question.
“Tell me where you’ve been all this time,” she said in between bites.
“The Florida Keys.”
Her eyes grew wide, but the pain there was obvious. “I’m glad you were soaking up the sunshine.”
He had no difficulty reading her mind or the betrayal she obviously felt. “While you and Janine were grieving, you mean.”
She glanced down. “Whatever.”
Reaching out, he lifted her chin with his hand. “It’s not whatever, it’s important. The truth always is and I wasn’t out enjoying the sunshine, I was making myself scarce so you two could heal.” He drew a deep, painful breath. “And I was grieving myself.”
He wondered if she’d go that one step further and ask why he’d walked out on her, but she jerked her head out of his grasp. “Makes for a good story,” she muttered.