Page 80 of Good Girls Don't Kiss and Tell

Before she could react, Eric came around the counter, stalking her with a determined gleam in his eye.

“What in the hell are you—hey!”

Eric lifted her up into his arms and strode out the door before she could blink. Either that or her fever was starting to make her delusional, and everything around her was moving faster.

“Will you put me down? I have a business to run.”

“Not today. Today, you’re going home and you’re going to sleep, watch a little TV…anything but going around town spreading your disease.”

She grabbed him by one of his ears and yanked. “You are not the boss of me!”

Eric sat her on the hood of his car while he unlocked the door, and she realized she couldn’t stop shivering. God, why was she so cold?

Eric’s hands were suddenly on her forehead, and he cursed. “You’re burning up, you little idiot. You’ve probably got the flu, and now you’ve infected half the town!”

“I go…got my flu shot,” she said through chattering teeth.

“Well, whatever you have, you need to be home.”

The strength suddenly drained out of Gracie, and she let Eric put her in the car. Before he’d even started the engine, she was dozing.

“I don’t feel good,” she mumbled.

She couldn’t be sure, but she thought he said, “I know, baby, but I’m going to take care of you.”

Then she was out.

* * *

Eric had taken Gracie back to his place and tucked her into his bed. Fuzz, as he’d named his new dog, sat next to the bed, staring at her with excitement, his poofy black tail thumping the floor. Eric decided it was probably better to bring the dog with him so Gracie didn’t wake up and in her delirium, think a monster was after her. She’d been so out of her head in the car, slurring all kinds of off-the wall things. He’d stopped by her place and told her parents she was recovering at his home, which they seemed to be relieved about. Apparently, getting sick on their vacation wasn’t part of the plan.

A little over an hour later, he walked through his front door with four bags of groceries in his hands, Fuzz on his heels, and two movies he’d thought Gracie might like. Both looked extra girly and romantic, exactly something to brighten the spirits of a sick woman with a propensity to squeal at kissing scenes. He only knew that because one afternoon when she’d been at his place, she’d stopped on one of the movie channels, and some Tom Hanks film was on. She’d made him watch the whole thing, and he’d grumbled a bit on principle, but it hadn’t been that bad.

Of course, when good old Tom got the girl in the end, he’d given her a big speech and kissed her, making Gracie’s mouth utter the most horrendous, ear-splitting squeals that would have made piglets jealous. When he’d mentioned the comparison, she’d whacked him with a pillow, and he’d retaliated by pinning her down and tickling her into submission.

Fuzz gave a little woof, and Eric turned from unloading the groceries to find Gracie standing in his sweatshirt and sweats. Her nose was red, her face was a little green, and she just looked so miserable, he wanted to hug her. “I’ve got stuff to make you feel all better.”

Gracie wrapped her arms around her body, visibly shaking. “You don’t have to take care of me.”

“Yeah, I kind of do. Pretty sure your parents put up a blockade at the front door the minute they heard you were infected.”

Her smile was weak and pitiful. “Yeah, my mom’s become a bit of a germaphobe in her old age.”

“For your health, I don’t think I would ever refer to your mom as old,” Eric teased.

Gracie’s laugh turned into a rough cough and then a groan. He grabbed a bottle of cold water and handed it to her.

“Thank you. It was sweet of you to do all this, and I will pay you back.”

He frowned at her, irritated she’d even suggest it. “No, you won’t. I can get you a couple of groceries without asking for a payback.”

“But you made a special trip and risked your health.”

Eric walked over to her, maneuvering around Fuzz, who was sniffing and nuzzling her hand. He bent over and kissed her forehead. “Just shut up and go lie down. Are you hungry?”

“Not really.” To his surprise, she leaned against him. The fever must have wiped away the fact that she was mad at him.

“How about some juice? Or I could make you my mother’s multivitamin shake. It’s got spinach, mushrooms, garlic, vinegar… It’s nasty, but full of things that knock colds and the flu in the ass.”

---