by Lane, Shawn;
“Hello? Is someone there?”
Nathan moaned and tried again. “It’s me,” he croaked.
“Nathan? Wow, you sound bad.”
He nodded, hoping his law partner and friend, Travis, could see his silent agreement so he wouldn’t waste his last breath.
“Nathan?”
Damn.
“I’m sick.”
Travis chuckled. “Yes, I gathered as much. You don’t have the swine flu, do you? Or whatever we’re supposed to call it.”
“I’m sure it’s much worse. Malaria. Or Ebola.”
“Ebola?” His friend sounded much too amused for the serious situation. “Are you hemorrhaging from different orifices?”
He was sure he must be. It felt like he was. Nathan glanced down the bed at his pain-wracked body. “Well, no.”
“Did you call a doctor?”
“I almost called 9-1-1,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to be charged with falsifying an emergency.” He closed his eyes. “I think it’s either just the regular flu or food poisoning.”
“I’m sorry you’re sick. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“I need the Sorenson file. I’ve got some preparation to do for the trial and it can’t wait.”
There was a slight pause and a shuffling of papers.
“Um, Sorenson. I can’t get away from the office. Are you contagious?”
“Probably, maybe. I don’t know. Maybe it’s cyanide poisoning.”
Travis laughed again. “I think you’d be too dead to call me.”
Another wave of queasiness lurched in his stomach. “I guess.”
“All right, I’ll send Barnaby over,” Travis said, referring to his admin assistant.
Oh, no. Barnaby would be the last person he’d want to see him looking like this. As if his normal appearance wasn’t bad enough.
He cleared the frog in his throat. “Can’t you just have it sent by messenger?”
“Sending Barnaby will be quicker. I have to go. I hope you feel better. Call me if there’s anything else.”
The dial tone sounded loud enough to break his eardrum. Frowning, Nathan tossed his cell phone onto the bedside table.
Crap, he hadn’t felt this sick since he was a child. He ran his fingers through his dark, sweaty hair, and then reached for his glasses from the table. He was practically blind without them.
Nathan had briefly considered the corrective eye surgery everyone seemed to tout these days, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. If they screwed it up, sure, he could sue, but he’d still not have his eyesight back.
As far as contacts…well, he’d tried them a few times but they never felt comfortable. So, he stuck with glasses.
Looking around the room, it was less blurry than before, but it still seemed to sway just a bit. There was no hope for it, though. He’d have to get up to answer the door. He hadn’t thought to tell Travis to have Barnaby just leave it on the doorstep. And something told him Travis would have ignored him anyway.
He swung his legs slowly out from under the sheet and blanket and forced himself to sit up. His head swam with the effort and he blew out a steadying breath. He had to have a fever. Touching his forehead with his palm confirmed his suspicions. Burning up.
For several long moments, he stayed sitting on the edge of the bed, willing the queasiness to go away or at least dissipate. Nathan did not pray, he couldn’t remember even the last time he even thought about praying, but he did now. Prayed for the strength to make it long enough to take the Sorenson file from Barnaby.
Maybe, if he just stuck his arm out of the door and reached for it, Barnaby wouldn’t see him. Any other time he’d be delighted to see the man. Well…okay, more like nervous as a cat, but that was only because Barnaby was seriously hot and Nathan had a teensy tiny crush on him. One would think him too old for crushes, but what else could it be?
Every time he saw the beautiful blond with the spiky hair, earrings, and lip gloss, his stomach fluttered, his balls tightened, his pulse raced, and he could barely catch his breath. It felt like the high school crush he had on his science teacher all over again.
He slowly rose from the bed, spreading his arms a little to steady himself. All right, so far, so good. His next move was to make it to the bathroom. One, he had to pee, and two his bathrobe hung on the back of the door.
Nathan made it to the bathroom, where he did his business, washed his hands, and then grabbed his robe. He eyed the shower longingly, but didn’t figure he had the strength to pull off taking a shower. He shrugged into his robe and tied the sash.
When he made it into the kitchen, Nathan made himself a cup of tea, which he couldn’t manage to drink, went into the living room to rest on the couch, and waited for the doorbell to ring.
* * * *
The buzz of his doorbell startled Nathan awake. Blinking rapidly, he struggled to remember where the hell he was.
Barnaby.
Wiping his hand across his face, he rose and hobbled to the front door, but not before the doorbell buzzed several more times. He peered out through the peephole expecting to see his little bleached blond obsession. Instead, he saw someone with carefully coiffed sandy blond hair.
Okay, not Barnaby. So, Travis had sent someone else after all. He pushed aside his weird sense of disappointment and opened the door.
The young man standing there was definitely holding a large red accordion style folder with the name Sorenson on it. The sandy haired guy wore navy pinstriped dress pants, a crisp white shirt, and a navy tie. And though his face was bare of any makeup or other adornments, he had the same delicate beauty and full pouty lips as Barnaby.
Frowning, Nathan took the file from the man’s outstretched hand.
“Finally. I was going to maybe call an ambulance or something.” That was most definitely Barnaby’s sexy, almost raspy voice.
“Barnaby?” he asked, hesitantly.
Those tantalizing lips curved into the familiar sexiest damn smile Nathan had ever seen. But all too soon the smile faded. “You look hellacious, Mr. Llewellyn.”
“Nathan,” he said absently.
Barnaby…or Barnaby’s doppelganger…stepped close. The scent of cinnamons and cloves assailed his nostrils and any other time he would have gladly buried his face in the man’s neck to inhale that smell, but just now the nausea rose in his stomach, threatening to fill his throat. He stumbled back.
Barnaby placed a steadying hand on his arm. “We’d better get you back to bed. You look really bad.”
He couldn’t decide which was worse. Looking really bad or hellacious. God, now he was delirious.
Barnaby’s arm slipped around him. The only time he’d been this close to his obsession and he wanted to vomit. As if his day hadn’t already been shot to hell, it got worse. He allowed Barnaby to help him back toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. He felt as feeble as a hundred year old man.
“Which room is yours?” Barnaby asked.
Nathan could only point. He was led inside the room and then he pointed to the bathroom. Fortunately, Barnaby got what he meant and led him there. He dropped to his knees, quite ungracefully, and had barely leaned over the toilet when his stomach erupted.
* * * *
“It’s all right you know,” Barnaby assured Nathan as he leaned over him, wiping his forehead with a cool damp cloth.
Easy for him to say, Nathan thought. He didn’t just barf in front of the man he had the hots for. He wondered, somewhat feverishly, as he lay in bed, who that man might be for Barnaby.
Somehow, after he’d gotten over the total humiliation of having to have Barnaby clean up after him, they’d managed to get him back to his bed. Now, his own private nurse was administering to him. Maybe the day had improved after all.
He stared into Barnaby’s blue-gray eyes, mesmerized by the tiny flecks of gold dotting them. Suddenly his glasses were snatched off his face and the man went blurry.
“Sorry, I should have thought you wouldn’t
want these on in bed. They’re smudged with…um…stuff anyway,” Barnaby said. “I’ll clean them for you and give them back to you later.”
Nathan nodded. Or thought he did.
“Have you been able to keep anything down?”
“No. I tried some tea before you came, but I couldn’t really drink it.”
“I think we have to keep you hydrated. I’ll get you some water in a bit.” Barnaby sat on the edge of the bed next to him. “I don’t think you’re up to doing work though.”
He sighed. “You’re right. I’m going to have to get one of the other lawyers to do it. Maybe Mary.”
“I’ll tell Travis when I get back to the office.”
“You aren’t leaving yet, are you?” Now that he was there, Nathan didn’t want him to leave. Stupid, he guessed.
“No. I’ll stay for a little bit.”
“I hope I’m not getting you sick.”
“I had the flu shot, so I’m probably good.”
Nathan frowned. “Look, I realize I’m delirious, but, did you change your appearance?”
“You noticed, huh?” For some reason Barnaby sounded happy.
“It’s kind of hard not to.” Nathan shook his head. “It’s quite…different.”
“You don’t like it?”
He heard a strange note of dismay in Barnaby’s voice, but thought maybe he imagined it. He shook his head to try and clear it.
“Hey, who am I to judge if you want to change your appearance?”
Barnaby shifted on the bed. “Oh. Yes, I guess so. I’ll be right back.”
He heard Barnaby go into the bathroom for a moment and then leave the room. He was obviously a big sap when sick because he missed the man’s presence in the few minutes he was gone from his side.
Barnaby came in and set something on the bedside table. “I’ve cleaned your glasses and brought you some water. You should probably try to take a few sips of it every now and then. Do you think if you feel sick you can make it to the bathroom, or should I bring you a trash can before I leave?”
Nathan felt the crush of disappointment, probably far out of context, too. “So, you’re leaving now after all?”
“I should probably get your file back to the firm so Ms. Biggs can start doing the work you need on it.”
“O-okay.” He closed his eyes, unwilling to give in too much to feeling sorry for himself. He’d already done enough of that.
A little hitched gasp from Barnaby had his eyes opening again. It had been so faint he was sure he must have imagined it.
“I could maybe get a messenger to pick up the file and stay here. To make sure you’re going to be okay. You seem pretty sick.”
Nathan swallowed. “I am pretty sick. I’d appreciate the company for a while, if Travis doesn’t mind you not being at work, of course.” He’d want to smash Travis’s face in if he did mind.
“Okay, give me a minute to make some calls and I’ll be back in.”
Nathan lifted his head to watch Barnaby disappear through his bedroom door once more. Even in his wretched state, he’d watched that tempting backside. God knew he’d been checking out Barnaby’s ass at the firm every chance he got. As long as the perky blond didn’t notice.
Former perky blond. He had to admit he liked Barnaby blond with all his earrings and nose stud and lip gloss. He wondered what prompted the change. He decided he would have to ask.
Nathan yawned. Man, he was really tired. Listening for Barnaby to return, his eyes drifted closed.
Chapter 3
Barnaby returned to Nathan’s room, ready to tell him he got the okay to stay with him the rest of the day, when he heard the soft snoring coming from the bed. Trying to be quiet, he tiptoed to the bed and looked down at the extremely pale man.
Biting his lip, he wondered if he should call his brother for medical advice. Should he be worried, or was it just the flu like Travis insisted? He’d been surprised how cheerful his boss sounded when he’d asked to stay. Not one hint of an argument.
He smiled a little. While it was true Nathan had seen better days, he was still as handsome as ever. His nearly black hair was a mess of curls framing his face like a fallen angel. High cheekbones, perfect aquiline nose. He’d make any girl in a fairytale sigh and every gay man weak in the knees.
His gaze shifted to the black-framed glasses on his nightstand. The glasses were slightly nerdy, he admitted to himself but never Calvin. But on Nathan, they were simply adorable.
Barnaby figured once Nathan felt better he’d be back to his old self. Refusing to even look at Barnaby, like he was nothing. In spite of Calvin’s advice, he hadn’t been particularly impressed with Barnaby’s new appearance either.
It would be selfish of him, he guessed, if he hoped Nathan’s illness lingered for days so he could stay there and pretend to be his nurse. Barnaby rolled his eyes at his own foolishness.
He left the bedroom and went to the kitchen. He’d noticed it needed a bit of cleaning and since he had to wait for the messenger to come collect the Sorenson file, he might as well make himself busy. He hoped Nathan had a can of soup or something.
It was a few hours later, when he finally turned off the television after watching Oprah. He stretched and stood. He’d checked a few times on Nathan and he’d still been asleep. The messenger had collected the legal file a while ago.
Barnaby hated to admit it, but he was getting bored. He was not a particularly sedentary sort. He’d made himself cinnamon toast earlier, but he was getting hungry again.
Earlier, he’d pulled off his tie and tossed it aside and now he decided to do the same thing with his dress shirt. He unbuttoned it and shrugged out of the sleeves, discarding it with the tie. He was definitely more comfortable in the tank top he’d worn under the shirt.
Barnaby went down the hall to Nathan’s room, determined this time to wake him up if he still slept. Yeah, he knew sick people needed their rest and all, but damn it, he didn’t want to waste being in Nathan’s home. Besides, Nathan needed to have fluids and stuff.
To his relief, Nathan was stirring in the bed, which meant he wouldn’t have to be mean and wake him up. He approached the bed, and looked down at his patient. Nathan’s dark eyes gazed back with unmistakable confusion.
“Hey, feeling any better?”
“Barnaby?”
“Yes. I brought your file and you barfed, remember?”
Nathan groaned and closed his eyes briefly. He reopened them. “Yeah. Now I do. What time is it?”
“About four.”
“Oh, God, Barnaby, I’m sorry, you’ve been here all day, haven’t you?”
He smiled. “Pretty much.”
Nathan struggled to sit up. He looked a little green around the mouth, but otherwise better than before his lengthy nap. “I feel wiped.”
“How about your stomach? Any better?”
Nathan looked thoughtful. “Yeah. It does feel a little less upset.”
“Good. I found a can of chicken noodle in your pantry, so maybe you can eat some of that.”
“Thank you. I can’t believe you stayed here all this time with me.”
Barnaby shrugged. “It was better than having to type up a pleading for Travis. Do you need help getting into the bathroom?”
Nathan shook his head. “No, I think I’m good.”
“Great, I’ll go heat up your soup. Should I come help you to the dining room or what?”
“No, I think I’ll try coming out on my own. I do feel much better.”
Thrilled to hear Nathan was on the mend, Barnaby went to the kitchen to heat the soup. Apparently letting the man sleep forever had been the right thing to do. While he made the chicken soup for Nathan, he made a cheese quesadilla for himself, having found tortillas and cheese in Nathan’s fridge.
He had the table all set with their food when Nathan came out dressed with a robe over his pajamas. It looked as though he’d made some sort of attempt to comb his wild curls, but had given up, giving his dark hair a sort of s
exy, crazy professor look. It went especially well with the black-framed glasses.
He smiled and sat down at the table with his soup and glass of water. “Wow, thanks. I can’t remember the last time someone took care of me.”
Barnaby took his seat, too. Feeling a little embarrassed, he ducked his chin. “Well, I was here.”
Nathan eyed his quesadilla. “That looks better than my soup, but aren’t you a vegetarian?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it. Wait, Nathan knew he was a vegetarian?
“Barnaby?”
He cleared his throat. “Um. Yes, I am a veggie. Just not a vegan. So while I don’t eat meat, I do eat food made from animals like milk products.”
“Oh. Of course.” Nathan took a tentative spoonful of soup. “Mind if I ask you a question?”
Barnaby froze, his stomach knotting. “No. Go ahead.”
“What prompted you to change your appearance?”
“Well…” How was he to answer? He couldn’t tell Nathan that he prompted him to change. Exhaling slowly, he settled on a partial truth. “There’s a guy I’m interested in.”
“Okay.”
“And, he’s different than I am. More…polished. So I thought he might like me more if I had more of an accepted appearance.”
Nathan took another spoonful of soup and shrugged. “Far be it from me to judge, but in my opinion he should like you the way you are. Normally I mean.”
“Even though he’s more conservative?”
“So what? Personally, I thought you were cute before. I liked the earrings and makeup, too.” Nathan suddenly set his spoon down and turned a dark shade of red, which looked extra strange considering he’d been ghostly white before.
Barnaby stared, his pulse kicking into high gear. “You-you liked the way I looked?”
Nathan lowered his gaze to his soup. “You looked, you know, okay for that sort of look, yeah.”
Hardly a ringing endorsement of his prior appearance, Barnaby thought, but he was so pathetic, he decided it was better than nothing. “Maybe I’ll go back to the other way, then.”
“Sure, if you want.”