And all of tomorrow. You’ve been through a great deal in a shockingly short time.”
Mental note: never tell Tom how much those words meant to me. “But I’m getting better. I’m pretty much empty now, and I won’t eat anything out of a vending machine—or any solids—until I get to the airport tomorrow. I’ll just push fluids tonight.” He opened his mouth and she cut him off. “Listen, if I’m not much improved in the morning, or if I think whatever-this-is will impact my flying, I’ll ask for a reassign. I’d never put my passengers and crew at risk. If you know anything about me, you know that, at least. But I hope I don’t have to.”
“As it happens, I was flying out tomorrow as well,” he admitted, “though I had planned to ask Abe to forgive my absence in favor of staying close to you.”
She shrugged. “If this was a movie, I’d be assigned to pilot your flight, but…”
“It’s flight 420 to BOS at eleven thirty A.M.”
“Oh my God.” She groaned, and had to laugh. “So … we’re in a movie, apparently.”
“Really?” The man’s face lit up like someone had dumped an unusual death on one of his tables. “I’ll get to see you work?”
“You’ll get to keep out of my way while I work,” she warned him. “Captain Capp and Ava are entirely different people. This is going to get weird, I think. Well. Weirder.”
“Or it’s a sign we’re fated to stay close to one another.”
“Let’s not get carried away.”
“It’s settled, then.” Tom stood, banged his upper thighs on the underside of the desk, sat, pushed the chair farther back, managed to stand again without hurting himself. She managed—barely—to trap her giggle before it escaped.
This hunky klutz wants to guard my body? Pretty sure he’s solid bruises from thighs to ankles. Argh, don’t think about his thighs … or his ankles …
“I will remain with you the rest of the evening and take you to the airport,” he pronounced, which was annoying, but she was tired and let it slide. “Your rental car may be compromised.”
Her annoyance disappeared. “Jesus. I didn’t even think of that.”
“We’ll all fly to Boston—”
“All?”
“Abe and my niece are traveling with me.”
“Ah. No longer horrified at the thought of exposing your family to me?”
“I apologize,” he said seriously. “I behaved foolishly.”
She sighed. The apology was sweet, but she couldn’t fault him for listening to his instincts. “Forget about it. It’s better to err on the side of ‘whoops, my bad’ when it comes to family, anyway.”
“Thank you.” Then he just looked at her. Just when the silence started to skew from charged to awkward, he added, “You require antihistamines, an antinauseant, and I wish to drop off your moisturizer for testing. Please remain in your room and leave it locked and dead-bolted until I return. Do not let anyone in. Not even room service.”
“A first in my life, but okay.”
“And you have to shower.”
“Rude.”
“A cold shower.”
She shivered. “Pass.”
“It’s the first step toward recovery,” he explained, looking earnest and adorable. “Get rid of the irritant. Do you have any diphenhydramine?”
Eh? “Not on me, no.”
“Or calamine?”
“Yeah, I grabbed some of that yesterday.”
“All right. I will be back within sixty minutes. Please take all precautions until then.”
“While showering.”
He laughed. “Yes. A cautious shower.”
Am I really going along with this? Looks like. And it’s nothing to do with the man’s essential hotness. Well. That’s not the main reason.
If she was honest with herself—and post-Hazelden, she tried to be—it was mostly fear. Someone had her in their crosshairs and she didn’t care for that in the slightest. And while Tom appointing himself bodyguard was presumptuous and possibly problematic, he was also the one who put it together and who seemed determined to get to the bottom of … well … everything.
That she could understand, even if it was the only thing about this she understood.
Sighing, she got up, flipped the lock and the dead bolt, and went to run the
(warm, thank you very much, Tom)
shower.
Twenty-Six
“This isn’t how I pictured this.” This in a low voice as he smeared medication all over her arms.
“You’re blind to the erotic qualities of calamine lotion, Dr. Baker?”
He snorted. True to his word, he’d returned within the hour in time to hand her a robe, politely look away as she dropped the towel to slip into it, then got her to sit down and briskly rubbed her hair with another towel. After she’d gone to the bathroom to comb out the mess he made,