“Vivian. I—”
“Go away. You’re terrible.” She covered her breasts with her shirt and reached for her jeans, pulling them on. “Why did you do that?”
Now he looked like a chastised puppy, his eyes wide and his body deflating. “I’m sorry. I thought you kissed me back. And you’re just so… gorgeous. And you’re so nice. And you smell so good. And—”
“I smell good? So you thought you’d jump my bones in public? In this cave?”
“No. I didn’t really think—”
“You didn’t think. That’s right. Do you think I’m some kind of slut?”
He slumped down onto the log and slowly pulled his jeans on. “No. Of course not.”
“Take me back to the house.”
He sighed and stood, carefully zipping up. “Okay.”
This time she mounted Popeye by herself, even though it took three tries. She clicked to him and let him take her back to the barn.
Chapter 14
Vivian spent Sunday morning holed up in her room with her Kindle. The eReader was a gift from her brother before he passed away, and she treasured it. She read another sweet romance by Morgan Blaze, called Soldier’s Choice, and it just made everything worse for her.
Now she longed for love. For closeness. For a man who’d cherish her. And yes, she had to admit, for the sensual pleasure this would afford.
Throughout the morning she’d heard Uvi banging around in her suite down the hall. Throwing things? Cursing? It was very strange. She’d avoided her at all costs most of the day and purposefully not responded to the racket. This was supposed to be her weekend off. Right? Why would she run down to help a woman who already had everything?
At ten o’clock she heard it again. This time it sounded like broken glass. With a sigh, she swiped off her Kindle and stood up. Sighing, she trudged down the hall and peeked into Uvi’s room.
“Uvi? What’s wrong? Can I help?”
Uvi stared at her with red-rimmed eyes. “No. You can’t. It’s my husband. He’s cancelled his trip home. Again.”
She let out a near scream and threw a pillow onto the floor from her unmade bed. “I hate him. I hate him. I HATE him!”
Vivian entered the room and perched on the chair near the window. “Can I get you a cup of tea?”
Uvi sniffed. “That would be nice.”
Not, “Oh, honey. It’s your day off. I couldn’t possibly intrude.” No, she just expected Viv to jump at her beck and call, no matter what day of the week it was.
Uvi picked up her phone and jabbed at it irritably. “And I can’t get that damned boy to answer me.”
“What boy? Do you mean Cody?”
“Yes. Cody. He’s not answering. Been calling him all day. I want him to get my cars washed.”
Viv frowned. On Sunday, his day off? The cars in the garage were never driven. Except on the rare occasion that Uvi went out, and that hadn’t happened since Vivian began working for her. “Um, Uvi. It’s the weekend. We both have today off. Remember?”
Uvi looked up, blinked, and huffed. “Oh. I forgot.”
“He’s probably at his uncle’s place. He was helping out with his little cousins yesterday.”
“No. His truck is here. He’s somewhere around here.”
“Maybe his phone is dead. He might need to charge it.”
“Maybe. But listen. Before you get my tea, could you run over to his apartment and tell him I need him to call me?”
Vivian tried not to scowl. Couldn’t she give the guy a few days of freedom? “Okay. I’ll try to find him.”
She backed out of the room and wandered downstairs. She didn’t really want to see Cody again, not after what had happened in the cave. God, she couldn’t get the image of his body out of her mind. She kept replaying the scene, over and over again.
She took her phone out once she got to the kitchen and tapped Cody’s number. He picked up on the first ring, but his voice sounded thick and strained.
“Viv?”
“Cody? What’s wrong? Uvi’s been trying—”
“I’m sick. I can hardly walk to the bathroom.”
Vivian felt a tug of empathy. “Oh no. The same thing the triplets and Libby had?”
“I think so. I called him and said I won’t be able to help him today. Been throwing up. Can’t keep anything down.”
“I’m coming over. Is your door unlocked?”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to—”
“I’m coming.” She swiped off the phone and gathered some supplies. Clean sheets and towels. Plastic garbage bags for the dirty sheets and towels she envisioned. Herbal tea. Thermometer. Tylenol. A can of chicken noodle soup. Saltines. What else? She looked around the kitchen. Ah, yes. A big bottle of Sprite.
She threw it all into a large canvas carryall and hurried to the back of the house. Without hesitating, she entered the green door on the first floor and climbed to his apartment on the second floor over the garage that housed the rarely used cars.
She knocked timidly on the door. “Cody?”
A mumbled response came from within. She couldn’t make it out, but opened the door anyway.
“Cody? It’s me, Vivian.” She walked into the living area and headed for the door that might be his bedroom.
There he lay, curled on his bed with the mussed sheets, groaning. The comforter lay in a heap on the floor, along with his clothes from the day before.
“Oh, Cody.”
She went to his side, shocked at his appearance. He lay still, hair soaked with fever-sweat, face the color of bleached sand, wearing only a pair of green striped boxers. And then he moaned again.
“Oh, Cody.” She sat on the side of the bed and laid her hand on his forehead. “You’re burning up.” She rummaged in her bag and found the thermometer. “Here. Put this under your tongue.”
He obeyed, but didn’t open his eyes.
It beeped and she read the display with concern. One hundred and two point three.
“You need something to get that fever down.”
He shook his head. “Can’t drink. Can’t keep anything down.”
“We’ve got to try. Let me pour you just a little bit of this Sprite. You can take two Tylenol now, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll get you into a cool bath.”
He let her help him sit up, holding his ribs as if they ached and wincing when he moved. Reluctantly, he sipped the soda, swallowing the pills with difficulty.
“You’re sore from throwing up, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He slid back down on the bed, shivering now. “Cold. So cold.”
“Here.” She took the comforter off the floor, shook it out, and spread it over him. Later she’d bring him a fresh one and wash this one in hot water. Maybe twice. “There you go. Is that better?”
He fell asleep in minutes. While he rested, she brought him a damp, cool washcloth and laid it on his brow.
She peeked into the bathroom, stopping short in the doorway. “Oh, gross.” She held her breath, threw open the window, and switched on the overhead fan. Breathing through her mouth now, she packed all the dirty towels into a garbage bag and tossed them out into the hallway. She hung a few clean towels on the rack, and scoured the sink and toilet with cleaners and a brush she found beneath his sink cabinet.
“Better,” she said, able to breathe normally now. The fixtures sparkled, and after checking that he was still asleep, she found a mop and swabbed the floor.
Next she tackled his kitchen. It was clear the man didn’t eat much healthy food, and that he had a penchant for Dinty Moore beef stew. In twenty minutes she’d rinsed and recycled all the cans, washed his dishes, and run a mop over the kitchen floor.
“Much better,” she whispered to herself.
When Cody groaned and rolled from side to side, kicking off his comforter, she hurried to him.
“I can’t breathe,” he said, perspiration popping on his brow. “It’s so hot in here.”
He hadn’t visited the bathro
om since she’d arrived, and she hoped that maybe his intestinal problems were over. Perhaps he’d drink a little? He needed to avoid dehydration. That she’d learned from her brother when he’d been sick after his radiation and chemo treatments.
“Can you manage to drink a little, Cody?” She filled a glass with ice and Sprite, bringing it to his lips. “Just try for me, okay?”
He lifted his head and took a sip, then lay back down on his pillow. “Tastes good.”
“I’d like to change your bedding. Would you be okay with that?”
“I can’t get up,” he said softly.
“No worries. I know how to do it with you right there in bed. I had to do this for my brother, so I’m pretty good at it.”
He gave her a feeble smile. “Okay.”
In ten minutes, she had the bed sheets changed. “There you go. Nice and clean again.”
“Except me. I must stink,” he said, reaching for the glass of soda. His hand shook, and he dropped back to the mattress.
“Let me help you.” She lifted the glass to his lips again, and this time he took a long swig.
She sat with him, making small talk—mostly on her part—while he dozed and woke repeatedly. He felt cooler now, and his cheeks showed more color.
“How about a little soup? Think you could handle that?”
He tried to sit up and opened one eye. “I’d rather clean up first. I feel so gross.”
“You’re still weak, Cody. How about I bring you a damp towel? We can give you a little sponge bath in bed.”
He closed his eyes again and flopped back on the pillows. “Okay.”
She took two clean facecloths from the bathroom, wetted both with warm water and one with soap, and brought them along with a dry bath towel into the bedroom. “Here we go.”
Memories of her brother lying in bed flooded back to her, and it was all she could do to keep from crying. She was thankful that Cody was so out of it, and busied herself wiping down his face, chest, arms, and legs. It wasn’t his whole body, but she didn’t want to overstep her bounds.
Suddenly, he clutched one of her hands. “Thank you,” he murmured, as if she’d just saved his life.
“Would you like to brush your teeth?” she asked. “I can bring you a basin.”
He shook his head. “Can you help me to the bathroom? I’d rather do it there.”
It took them ten minutes to get him sitting up so the room didn’t spin, and to shuffle across the floorboards to the bathroom. She set him up with his toothbrush with toothpaste already squeezed onto it, and left the room to give him a little privacy when he indicated he needed to urinate.
“You okay in there?” she asked when he’d been quiet for a minute.
No answer.
She gently opened the door, and found him sitting on the closed toilet seat leaning against the wall. He’d fallen asleep again.
“Come on, big guy.” Slowly, they walked back to his room, and she gently lowered him onto the fresh sheets.
“Thank you,” he said again.
She leaned over to kiss his forehead, without realizing what she was doing. He smiled, and she relaxed. He wouldn’t take it the wrong way. It just seemed like the thing to do.
“I’m going to throw your stuff in the wash,” she said, gathering up everything, including the comforter. “I’ll bring back a clean blanket for you, and whatever else you need. Back in a jiffy.”
“Mmmff.” His head lolled to the side and he began to breathe regularly.
She covered him with a sheet, smiled at her patient, and quietly backed out of the room.
Chapter 15
Cody woke in his bed, inhaling the aroma of outdoors on his pillow. It reminded him of his childhood, when his mother would hang the sheets on the clothesline. He loved that smell. Rolling over, he pulled the covers higher and suddenly frowned.
Wait a minute. How did the sheets get changed?
It came to him in a flash.
Vivian.
That sweet girl had been tending to him all day. He heard rummaging in the kitchen, the clang of a pan, and running water.
“Viv?” he said, propping himself up on his pillows. “Is that you?”
She poked her head into the doorway with a smile. “It’s not the Easter Bunny.”
He choked a hoarse laugh, groaned, and grabbed his ribs, flopping back on the bed. “Oh. Please. Don’t make me laugh.”
“I’m sorry.” She walked to his side and fussed with the bedclothes. “Your soup is ready when you are. Just give me the heads up and it’ll be hot in a few minutes.”
“Wow. I don’t deserve this,” he said, watching her move skillfully around the bed to tuck in the corners. “Why are you so good to me?” The room seemed to swim, but he tried to stay focused.
“I couldn’t let you die in here. You were a wreck, Cody.”
He chuckled again, wincing. “Ow. That hurt. But you’re right about one thing. I felt like I was gonna die. For real.”
“Your fever’s down a bit,” she said, leaning over to lay her hand over his forehead. “I think the Tylenol helped.”
“My throat’s so dry,” he said, reaching for his glass of Sprite.
She grabbed it and brought it to his lips before his quaking hand could achieve the task.
He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and downed half the glass, flopping back on his pillow. “Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome. You know, I’m kind of used to this job, anyway.”
He glanced up at her, and felt his heart break. “Oh. God. Your brother, right?”
One tear slid down her cheek. “Right.”
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to hang around me, you know. It’s okay.”
She sat on the side of his bed. “No, it’s okay. I kind of like it. Makes me feel useful.”
He watched her face, so humble and unassuming. She really is a very pretty girl. “You’re so much more than just useful,” he said, meaning it from his heart. “You’re smart, patient, and sweet.” Normally he wouldn’t be so open with his thoughts, but today, with his head still fuzzy from the fever, he just let it all out.
Her cheeks turned a rosy pink color, and she glanced down at her hands. “No I’m not.” She sighed. “Well, maybe I’m patient. I can deal with our boss pretty well.”
In spite of the soreness in his stomach, he laughed. “You sure do.”
“Speaking of which,” she said, glancing at her watch, “she wanted me to come get you this morning. Something about washing cars.”
He sighed. “Oh my God. Really? On my day off?”
She nodded. “Uh huh. And she went a little bit crazy, too. Throwing things and yelling for a few hours.”
“What? Why?” In his mind, he pictured her furious with him for not showing up in her bedroom last night. He knew he was expected, but he’d been too damned sick to care.
“Her husband canceled his trip home again.”
“Really? Again?”
She frowned, looking thoughtful. “I still wonder about that. The whole thing about him not showing up for ten years straight is kind of odd.”
“It is.” He watched her for a while, feeling drowsy, then reached out a hand to hers. “About yesterday. I wanted to apologize.”
She flushed again and shifted her glance away from his, saying nothing.
He went on. “I mean, I was a jerk. I practically jumped you. I don’t know what came over me. I mean, I know,” he rambled. “You just looked so gorgeous, so perfect, so damned sexy… ”
She lifted her eyes and stared at him with a haunted expression.
“I mean. I’m an idiot,” he mumbled. “I acted like a sex-crazed teenager.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“I hope I didn’t scare you too much.”
“Um. Well, I haven’t had much experience with men. That is,” she sighed. “I’ve had only one boyfriend. We only were close, um, a few times. I probably overreacted to you. I’m sorry, too.”
> He stared at the delicate creature in front of him. “So, you’re practically a—”
She nodded. “Practically. Embarrassing, but true.”
“You shouldn’t be embarrassed. It’s a good thing.”
Before she could reply, her phone buzzed. She slid it out of her pocket and rolled her eyes. “It’s the boss.” She shot him a rueful smile.
“Guess you’d better answer her,” he said. “And tell her I’m sorry. I’ll be better tomorrow.”
She smiled at him and swiped the screen. “Uvi?”
Chapter 16
Vivian felt a mixture of guilt and annoyance, but tried to use her sweetest voice when she answered.
Uvi sounded furious. “Vivian. Where did you disappear to?”
Viv walked out of the bedroom and lowered her voice. “Um. I found Cody. He’s sick as a dog. Could barely walk when I got here. But he’s doing better. I gave him some—”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“It’s a stomach flu with a fever. Really bad news.”
Uvi seemed to soften a little with the news. “I see. Will he be okay?”
As if you care. “I think so. His fever’s come down a little. I’m making him some soup now.”
“Really? I thought you couldn’t cook.”
“No, I really can’t. This is from a can.”
“Oh.” She seemed to lose interest. “Is his phone working? I’ve tried to call him all day.”
Vivian had powered down Cody’s cell in anticipation of this. Now she was glad she’d done it. And why the hell was Uvi so obsessed with Cody all of a sudden? “I think his phone’s dead, needs a charge.”
“Well, please see that it’s plugged in. I can’t be walking all the way over there tomorrow to give him his ‘to do’ list.”
Of course not, that would be too much to ask, wouldn’t it? “He may not be better by tomorrow. If he’s still sick, do you want him to call you?”
“Of course. I need him to stay in close touch.”
“Okay.”
“I could use your help over here, Vivian. My room’s a mess.”
“It’s still Sunday,” Viv said, shocked at her own boldness.
The Seacroft: a love story (Paines Creek Beach Book 2) Page 7