“No,” Gray muttered, his face screwed up in pain. “Headache. Bad one.”
“What can I do?”
“Whisper.”
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
With his eyes still closed, he reached up and patted her blindly on the arm. “It’s okay, Meredith.”
Her hands were still at his cheeks, and his hand lay across her wrist, and neither of them moved.
“I’ll call the vet and reschedule the dogs’ appointments.”
“No, you take them,” Gray said, never opening his eyes. “They need their shots.”
Meredith shook her head. “I can’t leave you like this.”
The side of his mouth crooked in a weak smile. “I’ve been like this for an hour. You’ll be gone forty-five minutes, tops.”
“Have you taken anything for it?”
“Yes.”
“Is it helping?”
“Not yet.”
“Should I call the doctor?”
At this, he opened one eye and glared at her. “No.”
Helplessness made her ill-at-ease. “I really don’t think I should leave you.”
He seemed to ignore her, but his hand on her arm smoothed up and down her skin. Meredith’s fretting held its breath, the touch quieting her and opening a moment for her to feel how close they were.
And it felt wonderful.
He’s just hurting. He just needs to be comforted, she reminded herself. The importance of human touch had already come up in discussion in her psych class. Pain usually brought fear, and touch was reassuring.
Still, as far as she was concerned, he could touch her as long as he wanted.
CHAPTER TWELVE
IT WAS A good thing his head was killing him, Gray reasoned. Otherwise, he might never have known the petal softness of Meredith’s skin. He’d wanted to touch her for days, but he had no reason to. Pain gave him permission.
The irony wasn’t lost on him. And touching her — simply touching her — was like finding an iceberg in Hell’s lake. In the slow, barely-there caress of her arm, he could steal his focus away from the vice around his skull.
He wasn’t so wrapped up in this discovery that he didn’t notice, too, how unafraid she was. While others — including himself — might have pulled away or stood back from a person cringing in pain, Meredith had stepped right in.
Compassion and courage. It was a disarming combination.
He still didn’t want someone looking after him — even if he needed help now and then — but he wasn’t about to send her away.
She’d been to the house every day since Bax hired her, and Gray had begun to anticipate each visit, learning to watch the clock as the morning dissolved into afternoon. He loved the sounds that carried through the house when she arrived. Gray had lived alone for so long that hearing her come in was like learning a new piece of music.
The dogs would give him the first clue. They’d rise at his feet and scratch and scurry their way to the front door. A moment later, he’d hear the jingle of keys and the bolt knocking back. The door would open, and she’d enter, cooing and greeting them with affection and laughter.
He’d hold himself still for a few minutes before going down to greet her because the exchange would only last a moment or two, and then it would be over. He was supposed to be working, so it wouldn’t be right to stand in the kitchen and watch her do all the things she insisted on doing. When she wasn’t cooking, she’d bring in his mail, groom the dogs, take them for walks, and complete pretty much any task she saw undone. He’d learned not to leave dishes in the sink or unfolded laundry in the utility room.
Every time she came over, Gray really just wanted to make a pot of coffee, force her to sit down in the living room, and simply talk to her. The way they had at lunch that first day.
“Did you hear me, Gray? I don’t think I should leave you,” she said softly.
He stroked her arm again just because he could. “Stay right here,” he wanted to say. “I heard you,” he said instead. “Go and come back. I’ll be okay.”
She was quiet for so long he chanced opening his eyes. The sunlight flooding the living room detonated inside his retinas and threw Meredith’s features into silhouette so he couldn’t read her expression. He shut his eyes again and held onto the sweet reassurance of her touch. The pain would ease. He would be able to see straight. And he’d get back to work. But every time his headaches went into overdrive, he would fear they’d never end, leaving him feeling this way until he had surgery or died.
Not today, he told himself.
“You don’t look okay. Not at all,” she said.
Gray managed a smile. “I’m sure you do, so we even out.”
He heard her smother a laugh, and she shifted beside him, sitting up straight instead of leaning close to him. Her arm slipped from his touch, but she replaced it with her hand. Gray held on, feeling a rush because she’d chosen it.
Any nurse would hold her patient’s hand, he told himself.
Fuck you, he answered back. And he memorized the welcome feel of her small hand in his.
“I need to do something for you,” she said, squeezing his hand. If she had any idea how it made him feel, she would probably never touch him again.
“You are doing something for me,” he said, letting his fingers squeeze back. Touch could mean so many things, couldn’t it? It could mean Listen to me. It could mean Thank you. She wouldn’t necessarily suspect it meant I can’t stop thinking about you. Would she? “You’re taking my dogs to the vet. I can’t do that.”
“You know what I mean. Something to make you feel better.”
Meredith was made of sweetness. Gray had begun to wonder if she ever thought about herself. As far as he could see, she spent an inordinate amount of time finding ways to help him or make his life better. Make him happy.
It was working.
Her cooking alone made him feel better — even a little stronger because he ate more often. That first night, Meredith had fixed him mac and cheese because he had nothing else. Since then, she’d made him home-cooked meals he’d never devote the time to make himself. They hadn’t been fancy, but always delicious, and better for him than pizza or Chinese delivery. She’d also stocked his pantry and fridge so he wasn’t skipping breakfast anymore.
He squinted through his eyelids to try to find her eyes, but he couldn’t. “Could you close the blinds and draw the curtains? And then come back here?”
“Of course.” He felt her leave, her hand slipping from his.
It was a gamble. She might not sit next to him and hold his hand, but if it were darker, the light wouldn’t be so vicious, and he could look at her. Even behind his eyelids, he could tell when the light softened and then softened further.
By some miracle, she came back to the couch, sat right next to him so her hip pressed against his, and she took his hand again. He blinked his eyes open. The light still hurt, but now he could see her face.
Gray grinned. He’d gambled and won.
“That’s better?” she asked, searching his face.
“It’s much better,” he said, drinking in hers. Judging from her expression, she’d missed the meaning in his words. Meredith clearly had no idea how beautiful she was, and that innocence made her even more beautiful.
“What else can I do?”
He gave a small sigh. She wasn’t going to leave unless she felt there was nothing else to be done for him. He was grateful, of course, but there really wasn’t much anyone could do. Short of popping an Oxy — and Gray didn’t want to do that — he just had to try to make himself as comfortable as possible, wait out the pain, and hope that the Aleve would kick in eventually. He pulled the wet compress off his forehead and drew out the one behind his neck.
“You can put these back in the freezer and bring me the other two, please.”
She took the washcloths from him and frowned down at them. “This happens a lot?” she asked, bringing her dark eyes back to his.
Gray held her gaze for a moment. “More than I’d like.” It was evasive, he knew, but the thought of telling her about the tumor still sent a chill through his body. She didn’t need to know, so he didn’t want to tell her.
“Have you always had migraines?” Her frown deepened with concern.
“Not always, but for a while now,” he said, again, skirting the truth. The headaches, large and small, technically weren’t migraines, but they produced the same effect: debilitating pain, sensitivity to light and sound, nausea, and fatigue. She could call them migraines without any argument from him.
Meredith nodded in sympathy and rose. “I’ll be right back.”
As she walked away, Gray realized he didn’t especially like keeping secrets from her — though he knew he’d like her knowing the truth even less. But he felt the slight to her honor, to the innocence that was her very nature. He wondered if there were a way to make it up to her.
She returned carrying two compresses, frozen stiff. “You really want to put these on your head?” she asked doubtfully.
“They help a little, believe it or not.” He reached for one to tuck behind his neck, and, before he’d finished, she was pressing the other to his forehead.
“It’s freezing,” she muttered, sweeping his hair away from his skin and settling the compress into place.
As if on cue, Gray shivered. He’d pulled off his sweatshirt when the nausea hit and now wore only a cotton tee.
“Gray, you have goosebumps.”
Meredith rubbed her palms together rapidly before running them up and down his arms. If he had goosebumps on his arms before, they now swept down his entire body when she touched him. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from embarrassing them both with his moan.
“Blanket?” she asked, completely oblivious to the avalanche of sensations she’d triggered within him.
“Yes,” he rasped, needing a moment to bring his body under control. “There’s one on the chair in my bedroom.”
“Got it,” she said, moving away.
Gray shut his eyes. Not because the light was too bright, but because he needed to think about filing taxes or cleaning windows or playing golf. Maybe all three at the same time.
A moment later, the blanket fanned out over him. He opened his eyes to find her smiling down.
So beautiful.
Everything in his body and soul wanted to reach out and pull her down to him. Why did he have to be her boss when he really just wanted the chance to be her boyfriend? Of course, he couldn’t ask her out — even if she didn’t work for him. You can’t ask someone out if you can’t leave the house by yourself, he told himself.
And she’d already made it clear that she needed the job. She was a mother and a student, and if he ever showed her that he was interested, it could make things awkward for her. He wouldn’t put Meredith in that position, and he’d never want her to feel harassed.
Not to mention the fact that he had a life-threatening tumor in his brain. Asking someone out under the circumstances would be more than a little stupid and more than a lot selfish.
She smoothed out the blanket over his chest, and Gray had to grit his teeth to keep still.
“You’ll be late if you don’t get going.” He spoke gently, but frustration was getting the better of him, and he needed some time to get his head together.
“Okay,” she said, smiling and patting his elbow through the blanket. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Can I get anything for you while I’m out?”
“No. Thank you.” He needed her to go, but he was already looking forward to her coming back.
“Just ask the office to bill me,” he instructed as she headed out of the room. The few times Meredith picked up groceries or prescriptions for him, Gray had either given her cash ahead of time or reimbursed her as soon as she’d returned, but check-ups for both dogs would run about four hundred, and he wasn’t about to ask her to cover that. His wallet and debit card were in the bedroom, and he’d trust Meredith with both, but having the vet bill him would be easiest. She’d have her hands full wrangling both dogs, anyway.
“Okay,” she called from the kitchen.
The dogs had followed her out, and he soon heard the clink of their leashes and their excited prancing as they prepared for an outing.
“Keys are on the hook by the garage door,” he hollered, cringing as the sound rattled through his head.
“I know. Relax, Gray,” she called back. “I’ve got it under control. Be back in a bit.”
Even as his head throbbed, he smiled at Meredith’s words. Of course, she had it under control. In addition to being unfailingly kind and thoughtful, she was also efficient, hard-working, and thorough. One day, he felt sure, she’d run a whole floor of nurses.
Gray closed his eyes and pictured her in blue scrubs with her loose ponytail draped over her shoulder.
Yeah, he thought as he heard the distant sounds of the garage door, she’d rock that.
A WET NOSE and a warm lick across his cheek woke him sometime later. Gray squinted through his eyes to find Vulcan wagging in front of him.
He reached out and petted him. “Hey, buddy. Y’all are back?” He drew the now-drying compress off his head. His vision had returned to normal, and the pain in his head was now the equivalent of background noise.
Sitting up and scanning the room, he found Juno lying down in the hallway, facing the kitchen, watching something, and that’s when he heard it.
Singing. Soft, sweet singing.
“And I said, ‘I know it well.’
That secret that you know that you don’t know how to tell
It fucks with your honor and it teases your head
But you know that it’s good, girl
‘Cause it’s running you with red.”
As he listened, Gray pushed himself off the couch and walked as quietly as possible into the hall. He peered into the kitchen. Wearing ear buds that snaked into the back pocket of her jeans, Meredith mopped his kitchen floor and sang along to a song he couldn’t hear, one, he was sure, he’d never heard.
“Then the snow started falling
We were stuck out in your car
You were rubbing both of my hands
Chewing on a candy bar…”
By the sound of it, she sang a love song — a strange and wonderful love song — and he listened, transfixed. How sweet would it be to sit with Meredith in his car and watch a rare snowfall, rub her hands to warm them, and share a candy bar? The thought had him grinning from ear to ear. That, and the adorable sight of her moving the mop across his floor as she sang.
It was so Meredith. Couldn’t she sit still for five minutes? Put her feet up and relax?
“You said, ‘Ain’t this just like the present
To be showing up like this?’”
Her voice rose slightly with the line, and in profile, he caught her serene smile. Whatever she pictured as she sang, it made her happy.
“As a moon waned to crescent
We started to kiss.”
At this line, Gray’s heart started racing. Was there a chance she pictured him?
He didn’t have time to wonder because she turned and caught him staring.
“Oh, Jesus!” she shrieked, jumping back. Meredith yanked at the ear buds. “What the hell are you doing?”
Her expression was startled and embarrassed but, thankfully, not pissed, even though Gray knew he wore a wicked smile as he struggled not to laugh. “I could ask you the same.”
“Wha— I —” she stammered, blushing slightly. “I asked you first.”
Fair enough.
“I was listening to your song. I wanted to hear how it ended,” he teased. Well, he was half-teasing. He totally did want to hear how it ended.
Her pink blush turned scarlet. If he could place his palm against her cheek, he knew it would burn like a fever.
Did she know he burned like a fever?
He crossed the kitchen and stopped at the island,
far enough away so he couldn’t reach out and touch her if his willpower slipped. He nodded toward the mop.
“Now you. Why on earth are you mopping my floor?”
She gave a flustered roll of her eyes. “Smoothies.”
“Smoothies?” At his mystified expression, her mouth twitched, but her blush didn’t wane.
Don’t be embarrassed in front of me, he wanted to tell her. You make me laugh, but I’d never laugh at you.
“Tropical Smoothies is next door to Dr. Wexler’s office. I picked up some smoothies for us,” she said, looking chagrined. “I thought I could manage to walk in with them and the dogs, but I was wrong.”
“Uh-oh,” he said, beginning to feel bad for his teasing. She’d brought him a smoothie?
“Yeah, uh-oh. Yours survived intact,” she said and then grimaced. “About a third of mine ended up on the floor.”
“Well, you can have mine. How much were they? I’ll cover the—”
“Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head. Meredith set the mop in the bucket and walked to the sink. “It’s totally my treat.”
“That’s not necessary,” he said, following her.
She turned on the water and set about washing her hands, but she looked back over her shoulder and met his eyes. “You always say that. I wanted to do it. You were having a lousy day.”
He watched her dry her hands, not liking the feeling that settled in his stomach.
“Not a pity smoothie, I hope.”
He saw her glare before the corner of the towel sailed out and snapped him in the gut. “No, not a pity smoothie.”
Gray blinked at her in wonder. So, there was a little salty in Meredith’s sweet. This discovery made his mouth go dry and his thighs tingle. He wondered — not for the first time — what she tasted like.
Before he could step closer to her, she swiveled on her heel and stalked to the fridge. Meredith pulled open the door and emerged from behind it with two hefty Styrofoam cups. She shoved one in his face.
“Here. A completely pity-free smoothie,” she said, an angry edge clear in her voice.
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