Truly, Madly, Sweetly (Sweet Love)

by Kira Archer

  Nat waved the bartender over to order another drink but Eric shook his head. She turned and glared at him.

  “Don’t give me that look,” he said. “I don’t want to have to carry you out of here.”

  Nat shrugged and swiveled on her stool back toward the bar. Eric nudged her plate of food toward her. “Why don’t you eat something? This is the best pork you’ve ever tasted, I promise.”

  Nat picked up a fry but used it to push the food around her plate. After a minute, she sighed and put it down. “I’m not really hungry right now. Can we just go home?”

  Eric nodded. “Sure.” He waved the waitress over and asked for some boxes for their uneaten food. He wiped his mouth and stood up. “I’m going to the restroom for just a second. You going to be okay?”

  Nat snorted. “I think I can manage to be by myself for five minutes. I’ve managed fine so far.”

  Eric frowned and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. He hated the defeated sound in her voice. He’d never seen her like this. And he’d give anything to stop her from feeling like it now. Maybe he should let her have one more drink. She’d be hating life in the morning, but it wouldn’t kill her and maybe a few hours of numbness would help. Plus, she didn’t seem too bad off just yet. No slurring words and her eyes were clear. Too clear maybe. The pain was etched on her face like that asshole had freshly chiseled it.

  He waved to the bartender and ordered her another chocolate martini. Nat glanced up at him with a surprised but grateful smile.

  “Last one,” he said. “But hell, who am I to stop you from getting shit-faced? I’d probably be doing it, too.”

  She gave him a wry smile and raised her newly filled glass in a salute. He smiled back and shook his head. “I’ll be right back. Don’t float away while I’m gone.”

  “No worries, Gelato,” she said, taking a sip. “This is where they keep the booze. I’m not leaving.”

  Eric snorted and headed to the bathroom. He took care of business as fast as he could, not wanting to leave her alone longer than necessary. He was only gone five minutes. Tops. But apparently four martinis was her limit. Make that four martinis and a beer. Because unless the bartender had stopped by for a quick drink, Nat had downed his drink while he’d been gone. And she’d definitely taken on the flushed and glazed look of the inebriated.

  He sighed and slapped down enough cash to cover their bill with a good tip and grabbed the bag the waitress had put their food in. “Come on,” he said, helping Nat off the bar stool. “Let’s get you home.”

  “Home. Yeah, home sounds good,” she said, her words not nearly as clear as they’d been a few minutes earlier.

  Eric helped her to his car, grateful he’d needed to bring it that morning to help haul baked goods. He slid in the driver’s seat, pulling her over so her head was cradled on his shoulder.

  “Sorry,” she murmured.

  “Don’t worry about a thing,” he said, holding her tighter, maneuvering through streets as fast as he could while still being safe as he drove one-handed.

  She sniffed. “Great. Now I’m crying. Ugh.” She jerked off his shoulder and looked at him. “I’m not usually such a baby. It’s just…it’s just…”

  Her face puckered and Eric’s heart clenched, hating the pain he saw dulling her eyes.

  “I know. It’s okay. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

  “Yes, I do. He didn’t think I’d amount to anything, you know. Said I’d never be good enough to make it on my own, without him. He didn’t think I was capable of running my own business. Didn’t think I was smart enough to help him run his. Nothing I did was ever good enough. I was just his back-up plan. The one he’d settle for if nothing better came along. But something did. So…out I went. I know I’m better off. But…still…”

  Her head lolled back to his shoulder and she took a few deep, shuddering breaths. They pulled up outside her building and Eric thanked whatever higher power was on duty that day for the miracle of a parking spot right in front. He jumped out of the car and hurried around to help her out. He’d wanted to take her to his brownstone but figured she might be more comfortable with her own things.

  She looked up at the building. “Hey.” She grinned a little. “We’re at my place.”

  Eric smiled at her. “Yep, we are. Do you have your keys?”

  Nat nodded. “In my pocket.”

  Eric went fishing, trying to ignore the suggestive leer she aimed at him. “Hey now, you aren’t getting frisky with me are you? ’Cause that’d be just fine with me. I think.”

  “Come on,” Eric said, chuckling. “I’d love nothing more than to get frisky with you, but now’s probably not a great time.”

  Nat thought about that while he fumbled with unlocking the door and holding her up at the same time.

  “No,” she said, hanging on him once he got the door open. “You’re probably right. My head is a little fuzzy,” she whisper-shouted.

  “I bet,” he said, helping her up the stairs. His house was looking better and better.

  He finally got her up the stairs without too many more incidents. Once inside her apartment, he deposited her on the couch and went into the bathroom to run her a hot bath. He didn’t know if it would help or not but his grandma had always said a hot bath cured anything, so it was worth a shot.

  Eric found a little bottle of lavender bath oil, poured some of that in, and then went to get Nat. Helping her undress was an interesting procedure. He couldn’t lie and say he didn’t look. And yes, she was just as gorgeous as ever. But it surprised him a little that seeing her naked body only briefly inspired a few indecent thoughts. All of them filed away for later. Right now, he just wanted her to feel better. He wanted to erase that haunted, sad look on her face. Banish the sadness that darkened her eyes.

  He helped her slip into the bath and then gently took out the elastic band that held her hair in a ponytail. She hugged her knees and closed her eyes as he began to wash her hair. Eric rubbed the vanilla-scented shampoo through her hair, letting the soapy strands slip through his fingers before washing out the suds. Then he rubbed some conditioner in, gently massaging her scalp. She sighed and tilted her head back into his hands.

  “You know,” she said, her voice barely audible. “It’s not that I wish I was still with him. Or that I’m jealous that he’s getting married. He bailed on me. Started canceling dates when other plans came up. I didn’t know until too late that the other plans were her. I should have known. He only wanted me when there wasn’t anyone better. I don’t love him anymore. I don’t want him. But…” Her voice cracked and tears leaked out from behind her closed eyes. “It hurts to know that he didn’t love me, didn’t want me.”

  Eric tenderly wiped away her tears and she turned her face into his hand, opening her eyes to look at him. “He said he didn’t want to get married. Ever. But obviously he didn’t mean it. He just didn’t want to marry me.”

  He didn’t know what to say to make it better. Didn’t know what to do. He kissed her forehead. “He’s not good enough for you.”

  Eric made sure all the suds were out of her hair and helped her stand up and get out of the tub. He wrapped her hair up in one towel and grabbed another one to dry her off, before he wrapped her up in it.

  “I don’t want him,” she insisted again, her voice sad and broken. “So why does it hurt so much to know he didn’t want me? Why didn’t he want me?”

  Eric picked her up and cradled her in his arms. “Because he’s an idiotic fool.” He laid her gently on her bed and rummaged through her drawers until he found a comfy pair of cotton panties and a well-worn T-shirt that looked like she wore it as a nightgown. He helped slip her clothing on and then tucked her into bed.

  “Stay with me?” she whispered.

  “I’ll be right here, I promise.” He curled up behind her, wrapping his arms and legs around her so she was fully cocooned. She sighed and nuzzled back against him. He stroked her hair back from her face, keeping up the ge
ntle caressing motions until her breathing deepened and she fell asleep.

  He kissed her gently on the temple and let his eyes close, his heart beating in time to hers.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Nat grabbed for the garbage can that had been placed conveniently next to the bed and vomited for the third time that morning. When she finished throwing up what she was sure was part of her intestine, she flopped back onto the bed, her hand pressing against her forehead in a useless attempt to keep her brain from pounding through her skull. At least it was dark in the room. Someone had thankfully drawn the curtains before the sun had crept in.

  She rolled over, her head throbbing as she tried to remember the events of the night before. Vague memories of being bathed and carried and cradled like a baby stole through her aching head. She jerked up, immediately groaning at the pounding that spread from the tip of her head down to her quivering stomach. Nat curled back into the fetal position, trying to keep her body in one piece.

  Eric. Eric had stayed with her all night. Had taken care of her, held her while she blubbered over that jackass Steve. Slept with his arms around her the whole night. A whole bundle of warm fuzzies filtered through her. He had been so unbelievably sweet it was almost more than she could stand. New tears threatened to escape, but she did her best to suck it up.

  The door opened a crack and Eric peeked in. Seeing that she was awake, he slipped inside and sat beside her on the bed.

  “Hey there,” he said, his voice hardly more than a whisper. “How are you feeling?”

  “Not great.” She tried for a laugh but ended up gritting her teeth against an onslaught of nausea.

  “Hang tight.” Eric scooped up the trash can and carried it into the bathroom, ignoring Nat’s protests to leave it there.

  She could hear the water running in the tub as he rinsed it out. Nat knew she’d be completely mortified once she was back to her regular self. But all she could feel at the moment was a vague sense of embarrassment and overwhelming gratitude that she didn’t have to haul her aching body out of bed just yet.

  He came out of the bathroom a few minutes later and laid a cool washcloth on her forehead, setting the trash can on the floor where she could grab it if she needed it.

  “Thank you,” she said, taking his hand.

  He smiled down at her. “My pleasure.”

  She snorted, grimacing when the sound and movement sent a fresh wave of pain through her head. “I seriously doubt that.”

  “No, I mean it. I don’t mind at all. I’m glad I was here.”

  “Me too,” she said, still holding on to his hand like he was her lifeline.

  Their little business arrangement might be an unholy mess that needed straightening out, but Nat didn’t give a damn about any of it at the moment.

  “Why did you stay?” she asked.

  He smiled again, brushing her hair out of her face as he refolded the washcloth and placed the cool side against her heated skin. “Because you asked me to.”

  “You never do what I ask you to.”

  Eric chuckled. “I must have been feeling generous.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Me too.”

  Eric leaned in but an ambush of what the hell did I drink last night hit her and Nat lurched to the side of the bed. Eric rubbed her back and held her hair while she heaved over the trash can. She finally sat back. He handed her a glass of water and she took it, rinsing her mouth out and then slowly sipping, letting the cool water trickle down her throat.

  Eric shook his head, a wry grin on his lips. “Here,” he said, handing her a couple of aspirin from the nightstand. He took the can and rinsed it out again. When he came back, he took the glass from her. “Why don’t you go take a nice hot shower and I’ll make you some breakfast.”

  “Ummm.” She shook her head.

  “No worries.” He chuckled. “How about some nice dry toast and some juice?”

  Nat narrowed her eyes and Eric laughed. “Come on, Cupcake. Get in the shower. You’ll feel better, I promise.”

  She tucked her hair behind her ear and froze, realizing she had no idea what she looked like at the moment. After the night she’d had, it couldn’t be good. And the freaking hottest man in the city had been here to witness it all.

  “That’s probably a good idea,” she murmured.

  Twenty minutes later, she was showered and dressed, after a fashion. Yoga pants and her favorite sweatshirt were about as much as she could handle. She hadn’t bothered with makeup. He’d seen her much worse and it didn’t seem to bother him. Unless he was just hiding his disgust until he was far, far away from her. She had spent a good five minutes brushing her teeth. It had been heavenly.

  And now she was sitting on the floor having her hair brushed by a surprisingly adept Eric. He got every tangle out of her hair without pulling once. She tilted her head back, enjoying the feel of his fingers running through her hair, smoothing it out after the brush ran through the strands.

  “Drink some more water,” he said, leaning forward to hand her the cup she’d abandoned on the coffee table.

  “Bossy,” she said. But she took the cup from him with a smile.

  “Damn right. You need to hydrate. I think you threw up a good ninety percent of your fluids.”

  Nat groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

  Eric’s low chuckle stirred something in Nat that she hadn’t thought was possible with how she was still feeling. Then again, since the day she’d met him, Eric had been stirring things in her she’d thought were long dead. She downed the water while Eric finished.

  “There,” he said, putting the brush down beside him. “You’re all presentable now.”

  She leaned back against his legs. “Thank you.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “You’re welcome. So, ready to hear my plans for the day?”

  Nat laughed. “Sure.”

  “First of all,” he bent down and scooped her up, “back to bed with you.” He tossed her back against the pillows and handed her the remote.

  “Stay here for just a minute.”

  “What are you up to?” Nat asked, her eyes narrowing.

  “Just shush and trust me for once.”

  Nat smiled. “Oh-kay.”

  There was a knock at the door. “Stay. I’ll be right back.”

  Eric hustled out to the front room. Nat heard him talking to someone, then heard dishes clanking in the kitchen.

  “What are you doing?” she called.

  “Just be patient!”

  She flopped back against the pillows and looked around the room. There were signs of Eric all over. His shoes on the floor near the door. His sweatshirt on the chair in the corner. A dent in the blankets next to her where he’d been sitting. Even the slight scent of the soap he used hovered in the air of her room. And Nat liked it. Liked seeing the evidence of him in her home. It was a thought that filled her with both excitement and dread.

  A few more clanks from the kitchen and a smiling Eric came in, bearing a tray laden with food. He brought it to the bed and set it up over her lap.

  She looked over the selection.

  “Chicken noodle soup, juice, dry whole-grain toast, applesauce, and a banana. And there’s popsicles in the freezer. All foods that are good for you when you’ve spent the night throwing up.”

  “Oh they are, huh? And how do you know that?”

  “I Googled it,” he said, grinning.

  “Oh you did, did you?”

  “Of course. I’ll always Google for you, Cupcake.”

  Nat laughed. “Wow. I’m flattered, really.”

  “Oh, you’re laughing at me now?”

  “Not at all,” Nat said, not even trying to keep her amusement in check. Eric’s playful side was actually rather fun when she wasn’t being an anal-retentive control freak. Not that she’d ever admit that to him.

  “Uh-huh. Here,” he said, handing her a glass of juice. “Drink this.”

  Nat took it and downed half the glass.
She hadn’t realized how good juice could taste. “Thanks. Where’s Gina?”

  “She came in and checked on you last night and then left. She said to tell you she’d be at her mom’s for a few days.”

  “Hmm… How did the rest of the market sale go?”

  “Jared said they sold out of everything and there’s great buzz about the bakery. I think we were a success. Jared said it must have been the banners he made.” Eric snorted and shook his head.

  “That’s fantastic!” Nat said with real enthusiasm. It was wonderful that their first showing had been such a hit. Well, Eric’s first showing. Still…

  “Drink the rest.”

  She fully planned on it but his insistence had her suspicions raised. “Why?” she asked, though she went ahead and drained the glass anyway.

  “Because.” He took the glass and moved the tray off the bed onto the floor. “You’re going to need your strength.” He got back on the bed and stretched out beside her, sliding one arm over her waist.

  Nat’s breath caught in her throat. “I am?”

  “Yes,” he said, reaching for something on the other side of her. He sat back with the remote in his hand. “Because we are going to have a Die Hard marathon and I don’t want you passing out in the middle.”

  Nat laughed and snuggled into him. “Bring it on.”

  They skipped the first one since they’d just seen it and made it through the next three Die Hards before breaking for more food. Nat, feeling much better, downed another bowl of soup and more toast (though Eric let her have butter on it this time). Tummy comfortably full, she leaned back with a satisfied sigh.

  “Ready for A Good Day to Die Hard?” she asked.

  Before he could answer, the front door opened and Gina called out. “Sorry! My mom had her book club over and I couldn’t deal with listening to their chatter anymore.”

  Nat got up and poked her head out of her bedroom door. “No problem.”

  “You feeling better?” Gina gave her a very pointed, amused look and Nat glared at her.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  Gina looked over Nat’s shoulder at Eric puttering around her room and smiled. “Well, I’ll just go hang out in my room or something…”