“Are you okay? Can I get you something?” she managed, knowing that her cheeks colored even as she asked.
Gray ran his hands through his dark hair before sitting up against the headboard. He glanced at the clock, shook his head with a look of disgust, and met her eyes again. “I didn’t mean to sleep this late. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” The humor was gone, replaced with what Meredith thought was pain or frustration. “If you need to go, I totally understand.”
She blinked in surprise. “I don’t need to go. This is my job.” She tried to sound more sure of herself. “What do you need?”
He gave a weak laugh. “I think I need to get dressed.” She watched his fingers flex as he massaged his forehead. He was clearly in pain. “And I need to take something else for my head. And coffee. I need coffee.”
Meredith nodded and backed toward the door. “I can start the coffee.” She pointed to the collection of prescription and OTC bottles on his bedside table. “Do you have everything you need there, or can I get something for you?”
Gray looked at his meds and back at her with an eye roll, but his cheeks flushed. “I’ve got a whole pharmacy here,” he joked with a noticeable lack of mirth. “I should be able to find something.”
Meredith hid her wince. She’d embarrassed him without meaning to. She understood then that she had to walk a fine line between helping him and invading his privacy if she was going to keep her boss happy.
He sat up straighter in bed, and Meredith noticed the way he kept the blankets drawn tight around his middle. Is he naked under there? She almost squeaked again and sped to the door.
“Meredith?”
She stopped and chanced a look back at him. “Yes?”
He smiled at her for the first time. Really smiled. And it was lethal. “I’m glad we’ve finally met… in person, I mean.”
She nodded because, for a moment, that was all she could do. “Yeah… me too.”
Leaving his room, she headed for the kitchen. She had a job to do, and she had to focus. A megawatt smile and a beautiful… smooth… sculpted chest were all very lovely, but he was her boss, and he was sick, and she was here to help him.
As soon as she found the tin of Cafe Bustelo in his refrigerator, Meredith heard the shower. At least he felt well enough to get up. She wondered again about his condition. Did people with uncontrolled epilepsy have chronic headaches? Was there something else that compounded his symptoms? Like post-concussive syndrome?
That was easy enough to imagine. If he’d hit his head badly or — as his brother Baxter suggested — repeatedly, he could be dealing with long term trauma.
How awful, Meredith thought as she measured out the coffee and filled the decanter. While it brewed, she took a peek in the oven. An hour on warm hadn’t appeared to have destroyed the dish, though the eggs on top might have looked a little drier than she liked. It still smelled delicious, and Meredith hoped Gray would have an appetite. He needed to eat no matter what.
She’d made the casserole after remembering the pitiful state of his kitchen. He didn’t even have fresh bread on hand, much less fruits and vegetables. His refrigerator was free of leftovers, and even the box of Honey Nut Cheerios on the counter stood nearly empty.
That was one thing she could count on at Leona’s. The woman didn’t believe in letting food supplies run low. Not with a son like Jamie. If there wasn’t a meal in the making on the stove, there was plenty to work with in the fridge or the outdoor freezer. And a breakfast casserole had seemed the obvious choice. Gray could eat it for breakfast, lunch, or dinner, and it would keep well enough in the fridge.
Behind her she heard the bathroom door open. “What smells so good?”
Meredith turned to see him step into the kitchen. Catching him shirtless in bed should have prepared her, but she still felt knocked off balance when she turned to find him filling the doorway. His hair, wet from the shower, fell over his forehead in careless waves and a black button-down dress shirt told no lies about the chest and shoulders she’d seen underneath. Those dark washed jeans seemed to be tailor made for his lean thighs.
He’s my boss. Just like Mr. Simmons, Meredith reminded herself. The thought of Harold Simmons allowed her to speak again. “It’s a breakfast casserole.”
Gray Blakewood had cheekbones that could cause traffic accidents and eyes that smiled before the rest of his face did. And now they were smiling at her. “Where did you get a breakfast casserole?”
The question almost made her laugh. It was that or the tickle of butterflies fluttering in her middle. “I made it. Would you like some?”
“You made it?” His surprise seemed genuine, as did his look of appreciation. He nodded. “Yes, I’d love some.”
Meredith forced herself to look away as she moved toward the cabinet where he kept his plates. “You look like you’re feeling better.” She took down a plate and glanced at him over her shoulder.
“My headaches are worst in the morning. They usually get a little better with a shower,” he said, and then he frowned, gesturing toward the plates. “Make sure you take down two of those.”
Meredith turned to face him. “Why?”
Gray’s brows drew up. “One for both of us. I won’t sit here and eat while you watch me.”
She blinked. “But I made this for you.”
Those brows lowered until he glared, and Meredith felt her insides shrink. “And it’ll feel a lot less like pity if you eat it with me.”
“Right,” she said with a nod.
Despite his glare, the smile in his eyes sharpened, and Meredith learned something important about her new boss. She could take very good care of him if she didn’t act like she were taking care of him.
She wasn’t quite sure how to do that, but Gray Blakewood was worth the effort.
CHAPTER TEN
“ARE THESE TATER tots?” Gray was on his second bite of her breakfast casserole, and it was so good, he almost wept.
Across the island, Meredith ducked her chin, her sweeping lashes lowering over those dark eyes. She was stunning up close. The light spray of freckles across her nose was nothing short of hypnotic. He could stop staring, but he didn’t want to.
“Yes. That’s the easiest way to shortcut the hash browns,” she said, not meeting his eyes, but he saw that the corners of her mouth tipped up.
He took another bite. Gray hadn’t eaten tater tots since college, but they’d been Cecilia’s favorite when they were kids. She’d eat all of hers and then ask for his and Bax’s, making the rounds at the dinner table.
But in Meredith’s dish, cooked with eggs, cheese, ham, and green onions, the crispy potatoes made up the most comforting, satisfying combination. If he chased this with one of her cookies, he might pass out from ecstasy. Gray served himself a second helping while Meredith took her time with the small piece she’d given herself.
“This is incredible,” he said between bites. “Thank you.”
Her smile grew now, and Gray watched her fair cheeks turn pink. She’d already been here longer than an hour, but it was clear she’d spent part of her morning cooking for him. Half grateful, half confused, his question was out before he knew it.
“Why did you do this?”
For a second, she looked surprised, but her face changed from candid to coy before she answered.
“A casserole travels better than oatmeal.”
Gray chuckled. An evasive answer, but clever and free of pity. He could get used to that.
“WE’LL TAKE MY car,” he insisted, pulling on his jacket. It would suck to sit shotgun, but he missed his Acura. The MDX — lunar silver with the graystone leather interior — still had the new car smell, and he hadn’t left the house since Bax’s visit. It would be a shame to let the car rust in the garage while he grew worse.
“Whoa,” Meredith murmured, seeing it, “that’s a nice car.”
“Thanks.” He opened the driver’s side door for her.
She peered inside, her eyes bugging. “T
his has leather interior,” she said, as though he didn’t know.
Gray suppressed a laugh and nodded. “Yep. I’m glad you like it. Climb in.”
He watched her do just that, and for her, it was a bit of a climb. He was a good eight inches taller, and the SUV fit him like a glove. He watched her adjust the seat, pulling it closer to the steering wheel than he thought it could go.
“Wow,” he muttered. “You’re tiny.”
She glared at him. “Tiny but mighty.”
His laughter echoed through the garage. “No doubt.”
Gray made his way around to the passenger side, and he watched with amusement as she continued adjusting the steering wheel and mirrors. If he had to give up the driver’s seat to someone, there could be worse ways to go. At least this was entertaining… and damned adorable.
She found the garage door remote and tapped it. Then she glanced at his hands and the center console before looking up at him. “Where are the keys?”
“In my pocket.”
She eyed him for a moment. “Well… are you going to give them to me?”
Gray reached down and pushed the ignition, and the car started. “No need.”
She stared at the button, and even in the still dim garage, he saw her blush. “Oh… right. New car.”
Light flooded into the car as the garage door lifted, and Gray took his sunglasses from the visor above Meredith’s head. Their dark lenses and light-blocking temples made him look like he’d just had cataract surgery, but they were necessary. The last thing he wanted was to have a seizure in front of her.
“Bright light is a problem,” he said, shrugging.
Meredith reached over and patted him twice on the arm as though to comfort him. It was nothing. A gesture so small, he should have barely noticed it. But with her one touch, Gray became aware of every part of his body as every part of his body became aware of her. Not just the parts that made him a man, but the soles of his feet, the tip of his nose, his abdomen, the skin between his fingers. His lips.
His elbow spoke to every member of his body and told them about her.
“To Academy?” she asked.
“To Academy,” he echoed, surprised to hear the evenness of his voice.
He slowly put on the sunglasses and went very still, letting himself feel this new discovery, this strange but welcome sensation of his whole body wanting just one thing. To touch her.
Gray tried to understand what had happened. Had he spent too much time alone? Since he’d started feeling bad last fall, he hadn’t gone out — with André, Bax, or on dates. Clubs were out of the question and, with his unpredictable symptoms, taking someone to dinner was a huge gamble. But that meant he didn’t have the sexual thrill of a heaving dance floor or the chance to kiss a woman goodnight at her front door — and follow her inside if she offered.
He hadn’t seriously dated anyone since his first novel. Gray had met Carrie O’Neal while he was writing the first Alex Booth book, and they were together for about six months before his career took off and carried him away on a book tour. At the time, Cecilia’s death had still been so fresh that Gray honestly hadn’t been ready to focus on building a relationship with someone, one that was real and solid. It was easier to throw himself into his books and write a hero who could save the day.
After Carrie, he’d had no time to settle down. He’d dated, but he hadn’t opened himself up to having feelings for anyone or letting them have feelings for him. There would be time for that later.
Or so he’d thought…
Was that why one touch from a beautiful girl had set him spinning? Was there a part of him — the part that knew he could be dead in a matter of months — that wanted to grab hold of some piece of unfulfilled life before life slipped away?
Because nothing like that had happened before. One touch from a woman had never fired through him like an electrical charge.
Especially not someone he absolutely could not pursue. She was far too young. He wasn’t exactly sure of her age, but Bax had said she was a first-year nursing student, so that had to put her at eighteen or nineteen. Plus, she worked for him. It would be wholly inappropriate, and that could lead to a host of other problems he couldn’t possibly handle. Which brought him to the final reason pursuing her was impossible. He was in a life-or-death battle with his body. Getting involved with anyone now would be a huge mistake.
He glanced over at Meredith as they left his neighborhood. Lorde’s “A World Alone” played over the radio, and Meredith sang along so quietly Gray could barely hear her voice under the lyrics. But it was a voice made of sweetness and feeling, and he liked the sound of it in his ear.
No, he couldn’t touch her. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy being near her.
“NOW, WHY ARE we here?” she asked as they moved through the automatic doors into the sporting goods warehouse.
“To get some pepper spray,” he said, taking off his sunglasses and hooking them to his shirt.
Meredith narrowed her eyes at him.
Gray smiled. He didn’t have the heart to tell her the disapproving look didn’t work for her. She was far too cute.
“We cannot just be here for pepper spray. I won’t allow you to pay me for this time if we are.” She might be cute, but she was still fierce. He saw no point in arguing, so he needed to find something to buy. Right now.
He’d never been a hunter, and he didn’t fish much, but Gray liked camping. He’d take Vulcan and Juno, and they’d hike into the woods a good seven or eight miles, where he’d pitch a tent, cook over a fire, and stare at the stars. It was a great way to get through a block in his writing. The last time was in April. He would’ve gone again in October if he’d been well. Camping in Louisiana was only comfortable when it was cool, which meant Gray might never get a chance to do it again.
But Meredith didn’t need to know that.
“I need some new trail shoes.” It was the first hiking item that came to mind, but he didn’t lie. His Merrells had a patch of dry rot at the toe, and they’d need replacing — if he survived his brain tumor.
Meredith nodded, looking determined. “Shoes, it is.” She led the way through the store, and Gray grinned, happy to follow her petite form, even though the fluorescent lights bore into his retinas with steady force. His headache had backed off enough to make the outing bearable, and, if he were being honest with himself, he’d have to admit that he hadn’t thought much about the pain since his shower.
She chose a shoe aisle and disappeared. Gray found her staring up at a wall of choices. She looked up at him with honest brown eyes. “I admit I know nothing about hiking shoes.”
Her candor made him laugh. No pretense. No cloaking. Genuine.
“I like the Capras,” he said, pointing to the lighter-weight Merrells. “They keep my feet dry, and they’re good for stability.”
Meredith stepped forward and picked up the bright blue display model. She peeled back the tongue and peeked inside. “What size?”
“Twelve.”
Her eyebrows leapt, and he watched her gaze dart to his feet and then sweep up to meet his. “You’re really tall.”
“Not really,” he said, grinning down at her. Her eyes were a rare, dark brown. The contrast with her fair skin was stunning. “It’s just a matter of perspective.”
Her left brow lowered, and the right one arched. “Are you implying I’m short?”
Gray shook his head, chuckling. “Never. Short implies something lacking. Like being short-changed. I might call you petite, but you’re not short on anything.”
His words startled them both. Meredith blushed, and Gray stammered. “I-I mean, you’re kind and patient… in abundance.”
To deliver them from the awkward moment, he took the display shoe from her, checked the size, and saw it was a ten.
“Let’s hope they have something in stock.”
Twenty minutes later, they stood in the checkout line with a new pair of Merrells, some trail socks, and hand-hel
d pepper spray. When he wouldn’t let Meredith hold the Mace, she argued.
“You’re not paying for that.”
“I think I am,” he countered.
“But I—”
“Let me.” His tone was gentle, but he didn’t leave room for refusal. As far as Gray was concerned, this was only going one way. “I’m the one who’s insisting you have it, anyway.”
Meredith never let her gaze leave his, but she pursed her lips, considering. “Well, that’s true…”
Gray nodded, hiding his triumph. He needed to do this. It wasn’t just about money and who had more. That was part of it, he could admit. And it wasn’t just the need to recompense for her kindness, though this, too, played a part.
He still didn’t like the idea of Meredith walking alone at night, but this small measure of protection might make her a little safer. And it was an urge to provide this protection that spurred him to insist on paying. Though he would rather walk with her instead…
“And you’re supposed to try to help me feel better, right?” he continued.
She narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. “Yeah?”
Her face was so open. Her eyes so dark they were magnetic. If he wasn’t careful, he’d fall right into them. “This will make me feel better,” he said with certainty. “Knowing that you have protection will make me feel better when your sister can’t walk with y—”
Meredith’s open face slammed shut, and she jerked her eyes away. Gray saw a flash of pain cross her features before he found himself staring at the back of her head.
“We’re next,” she muttered, stepping forward in the checkout line.
Gray followed but said nothing. Clearly, mentioning her sister had been a mistake. While the cashier rang up their purchases, he managed to steal a few glances at her. The look of pain had faded, but she still frowned and breathed deeply as though to calm herself.
Meredith walked ahead of him again as they left the store. He pulled on his sunglasses, wondering if he should apologize. Gray didn’t know exactly what he’d done wrong, but he was sorry to have offended her.
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