Page 33 of Worth the Risk
“I know it’s a huge blow to that ego of yours, but no. I’m sorry. You are not on my fantasy hockey league roster…” He looks at me seriously then.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been more disappointed to not make a team in my life.” My laughter sputters out of me at that and I whimper.
“Uhg, don’t make me laugh. It hurts and I know for a fact that’s a lie.”
“Sorry.” He starts massaging my neck again. “And nope, this is it.” I scoff.
“What about first round draft picks your freshmen year?” I open my eyes to look up at him and find him already looking at me. He is really playing this up for me. He genuinely looks like he’s contemplating. I pinch his leg.
“Okay, that was a rough one. I’ll admit.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“…but…” Oh here we go. “Not making the cut on a list or team of yours that has the word‘fantasy’in the title is worse than not making any other team I can think of.” I roll my eyes.
“Always the charmer.” He chuckles beside me.
“Only for you, honeybee.”
I clear my throat not wanting to give weight to his words any more. I’ve had enough of the flirting that can’t go anywhere with him. I fake a yawn which turns into a real one and then go to stand up.
“Where do you think you’re going? I’m getting ready to start Chopped,” He says holding up the remote.
“I just need to get a glass of water.” What I really need is some separation.
“I’ll get it. You need to rest.” He lays me back into the couch before getting up. I hear him in the kitchen opening cabinets, trying to find a glass, the sound of distant thunder is like a backtrack. I don’t even realize I’ve shut my eyes until I feel an arm slip under my knees and another wrap around my back. I’m cold but feeling sticky. Uhhgg and my head is hurting again. I’m swaying and then floating before landing on a soft surface.Mmm…that’s nice. A cool hand touches my forehead and I hear mumbling but my eyelids are simply too heavy to be bothered to open. I feel something else touch my forehead and then my name.
“Winnie, you need to take a drink of this water for me.”
“Uhhggdonwanta…”
“I know you don’t want to, darlin’, but you need to.”
“Uhhhggg…” I lean up, with a hand supporting the back of my neck and feel the cool hard rounded edge of a glass, I drink three gulps of water.
“Did you get enough?” I try to nod.
“Mhmm…” I’m gently lowered back to the pillow and covered with blankets. What a strange feeling this is. I don’t remember the last time I was this taken care of or felt this safe especially with thunder rumbling the walls of my little cottage and rain pouring down. I don’t want to be alone anymore. I want him to stay, but I won’t ask. I want him, but I won’t tell him that. I’m thinking about how lucky that fictitious wife of his is going to be and then how I really will have to move when that happens. I won’t be able to handle it. Those are the medicine induced thoughts that pull me under and into a surprisingly dreamless sleep.
My face is warm and my eyelids are turning red, so I know that the sun is up. My back is stiff and I feel a dull ache in my knee. I open my eyes and last night comes back in a rush. I slept on Winnie’s couch last night after taking care of her. Her migraine had gotten worse after I put her to bed and I was worried, checking on her every hour or so when I woke up to her talking in her sleep. She finally settled down and quit mumbling about 3 this morning so I decided I could come out here for the rest of the night…or morning really. I wasn’t going to stay in her room, but mixed in with all the nonsense about having to move, she had asked me to stay.
My heart had done a funny little flip at that. I don’t think she realizes that she could ask anything of me and I would do it but this was a request I was far too happy to agree to. I lay beside her with her small hand warm in mine, and the other gripping my arm in her sleep. As much as I hated that she was so sick, I lovedthe feeling of holding her hand in mine. I look around and take in the room. It’s like a little greenhouse in here. There’s vines and potted plants everywhere. I guess I didn’t notice them last night when I invited myself in. I sit up and and stretch my tight muscles that are in desperate need of movement.
When I got here last night I fully expected to tell her that I missed her, I wanted to spend time with her, ask her to stop avoiding me. I was going to ask her on a date. A real one. I wanted her, and I was going to make my move. Then she opened her door and it was obvious she was actually sick. Anna had told me she had left the bakery yesterday morning, but I really thought it was just another excuse. She looked so miserable. I wanted to hold her and take care of her. She was always worried about everyone else. When she had sank into me on the couch, it felt like I could sit on a couch with her beside me for the rest of my life. Why had I wasted so much time trying to stay away from this woman?
I start a pot of coffee and look inside Winnie’s fridge. I would bet she didn’t eat much yesterday and even though I’m not a chef by any stretch of the word, Mary Holloway made sure her boys wouldn’t be helpless men, so I can make a decent breakfast. I find eggs, bacon, her waffle iron and some strawberries. I can work with this.
I pour waffle batter into the iron and get the bacon going then see a small watering can and mister on the counter by the sink. In between making waffles and flipping the bacon I walk around her place watering her plants. I like being in her space. She’s done a great job with the renovations. The butcher block counter tops and the jade green back splash. The wooden floors have been refinished, too. I’m leaning against the island drinking coffee and admiring her charming home when I hear her soft voice.
“Hi.”
I turn to look at her and am momentarily stunned. She’s taken a shower and changed. Her hair is damp and making wet spots on her thin t-shirt. Her face is completely void of makeup and I can see the freckles that I have loved and pictured just like this many times. Her lips are set in a tiny shy smile and she’s leaning against the doorway with one foot propped on her other calf.
“Morning, darlin’. Are you feeling better?” A blush that I love stains her cheeks.
“Good morning. I am. My head feels back to normal weight and size. Are you cooking?” She sounds confused.
“Yes. I thought you may be hungry. How are you feeling?”
