Page 36 of Reunion With Benefits

She stomped across her living room, ignoring the way her bright purple slippers clapped against the hardwood floor. She wore sweatpants and a shirt. No bra. Someone was about to get a show.

She peeked in the peephole and froze. Clearly the bad cold or the medicine or just life in general was making her vision blur. There was no way Spence stood out there. None.

“What?” She shouted the question through the door.

“Abby, please let me in.”

Yep, same silky voice. A defeated muffled tone, maybe, but that probably had something to do with him standing in the hallway.

But there was no use in ignoring him. That was easy on the phone. Harder when he hovered outside her door. She opened it and stared at him. “What?”

Whatever tough stance she was trying to take likely was ruined when she sniffled. Stupid cold.

He frowned at her. “You really are sick?”

Of all the things he could have said, that one was unexpected. “Of course. I don’t hide. Like I’d give your father that satisfaction.”

Oh, she’d wanted to. She’d even toyed with the idea. When the fever hit her on Saturday night after the big showdown with Eldrick, she’d chalked it up to frazzled nerves. By the next morning when she couldn’t lift her head off the pillow, she realized it was something else.

Needing to sit down, she left Spence at the door and walked back to her sectional. The cushions had never looked so inviting. She flipped off the slippers and slid into her cocoon of covers. Didn’t even look at him again until her head rested against the pillows propping her up from behind.

He stood over her, watching her. His gaze traveled over her. Not sexual. No, this felt like he was conducting an inventory. “When did you get sick?”

“I’d been fighting it off for about a week.” She lifted her head in the direction of the pill bottle on the ottoman. “I took some medicine I happened to have here and thought I caught it in time, but no.”

He sat on the edge of the couch. About a foot away from her. “It’s not healthy to self-medicate.”

“You sound like my doctor.” She was kind of tired of men telling her she was wrong about things. Not a rational response, she knew. But still.

He looked around the condo. His gaze zipped to her modern kitchen and the sleek white quartz countertop. To the dishes piled in her sink. “Have you eaten?”

She cuddled deeper into the cushions and let his deep voice wash over her. “It’s amazing what you can have delivered in this town.”

“True.”

That’s all he said. He didn’t move or try to get closer. She sensed he wanted to say something and she was not in the mood to make any of this easier on him. Now wasn’t the right time and she didn’t have the strength to carry on much of a conversation, but she could sit there and listen.

“I’ll handle these.” He stood up and stripped off his suit jacket. Threw it over her chair. The stupid thing hung there like it belonged in her condo.

She hated that.

“What are you talking about?” she asked as she watched those long legs carry him to the other side of the condo.

He stepped into the open kitchen and rolled up his shirtsleeves. “The dishes.”

Did he just say... “Are you kidding?”

He shrugged. “Seems like the least I can do.”

“You know how to do dishes?”

He looked up at her. “I’m not totally useless.”

“No one said totally.”

She thought she saw him smile at her joke as he went to work. Those long fingers soaped up the dishes. She considered reminding him she had a dishwasher, but it was right there. Surely he could see it.

No, she sensed this was something else. As if he were paying penance.

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