A smile graced her lips. “Friendship-plus. I like that. Is that anything like friends with benefits?”
He hoped it would be—eventually. “If I’m lucky,” he said with a smile and a wink. “But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, your benefits are limited to soup delivery and laundry service.”
“Fair enough. Hey, Doc?”
“Yes?”
“Do those benefits also include sitting on the couch and watching a movie together?”
He appeared to consider it, but the reality was, he was all for it. “Hmm, I don’t know. Friendship-plus is all about give and take. What’s in it for me?”
“Probably the flu,” she said wryly. “But at this point, it’d be like closing the barn door after the horses got out.”
“I’m not worried about it. But throw in a jar of your peach preserves with the Zook’s chicken you already promised, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
Doc helped her back out of bed and got her settled on the couch with a thick blanket and a mug of hot tea. They agreed on an old whodunit. Ten minutes in, Tina was fast asleep.
When the final credits rolled over the screen, Doc knew he could delay no longer. He’d rationalized his way through three full-length features. With dawn only an hour or so away, he knew it would be better to be off Obermacher property when the sun came up.
Tina barely stirred as he carried her into her bedroom and put her to bed, tucking the covers around her. After ensuring she had everything she might need within reach, he scribbled a quick note, pressed a light kiss to her forehead, and slipped out into the early morning darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tina
Tina woke, feeling better than she had in days. She still wasn’t one hundred percent, but there was a definite improvement.
Doc was gone, having slipped out at some point. She had a vague memory of him carrying her to bed sometime in the wee hours of the morning. She wasn’t sure when exactly, but it must have been pretty late—or pretty early, depending on how she looked at it. All she knew was, each time she’d woken on the couch, it had been to find herself snuggled against him with a different movie playing.
She wasn’t complaining. Doc’s presence had been unexpected but very much appreciated. Sure, it had been humbling for her to have him see her at her worst, but on the plus side, if he could handle that, he could probably handle anything.
As she fixed herself a cup of tea, the thought made her smile, as did the clean dishes drying in the rack and the neatly folded sheets he’d left on the table. Unexpected bonus: he knew how to fold a fitted sheet to perfection—a skill she had never quite mastered.
A girl could get used to that kind of pampering.
Tina was sipping her tea and pondering the benefits of the friendship-plus plan when she heard the telltale crunch of gravel outside, indicating an approaching visitor. A moment later, she identified the distinctive roar of her brother’s truck, followed shortly thereafter by his beefy hand pounding on the door.
“Bert! Open up.”
She took her time in getting up and walking to the door, opening it just a crack. “What do you want?”
Rick pushed open the door and walked in like he owned the place. Technically, she supposed he did since it was on Obermacher property, but it annoyed her more than usual.
His gaze swept over the small interior, coming back to rest on her accusingly. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
Did he know about Doc’s visit?
She tightened the sash on her robe and crossed her arms as she pretended to think about it. “No, I don’t think so.”
“I was just down at The Mill, looking for you. Aggie said you didn’t show up the last couple of days. And why the hell are you still in your pajamas?”
“Because I’m sick,” she told him. “And I didn’t go to The Mill because I didn’t want to get anyone else sick.”
“Yeah, well, just because you’re taking it easy doesn’t mean your crew should be. I told you firing Eddie was a mistake.”
Rick had just blown past the I’m sick part. No how are you. No can I do anything or how can I help.
“Firing Eddie was not a mistake,” she told him firmly. “The crew’s idle because the supplier sent the wrong fertilizer, and I refuse to spray that toxic crap on my trees.”