Page 69 of Tumbleweed Temptation
“You ready to go?”
“How’s Mr. Canales?” she asked, sitting up, and he got the feeling she was doing it to put distance between them.
“Stable. And his daughter is here.”
“She is?” Ginny blinked again. “What time is it?”
“Just after midnight. We’d be getting home from the dance right about now.”
“Oh, I don't think I would have made it this long at the dance.” She looked around her for her purse, and he pulled it from behind the chair. “Give me just a minute so I don't stagger around looking like a drunk.”
“Sure. I take way longer than that to wake up. When did you fall asleep?”
She looked up at the TV in the corner, now airing an old sitcom. “I think I made it through the sports report on the news.”
Wow, so she’d been asleep a while. “Sorry about that.”
“No, ah. I actually can’t believe I was able to sleep. I usually can’t sleep in strange places. And in public.” She lifted the back of her hand to the corner of her mouth, then pulled her ponytail free and refastened it. “Okay, I think I might be awake enough to walk. At least I don't have to remember where you parked the car.”
Once he got her settled in the passenger seat and pulled out of the lot, he headed for an open drive-thru. He didn't want to make the long drive back without some coffee to keep him awake. She waved off the offer.
“I won’t be able to sleep when I get home if I drink it.”
“No matter how much caffeine I have, I never have trouble falling asleep. I lived on coffee in med school, and could sit down and sleep whenever I wanted to.”
“Never been me. I have trouble sleeping, which is why I have no trouble being a breakfast waitress.”
“Maybe you should see your doctor about that,” he said with a grin.
“Well, what do you recommend?” she asked as the girl at the drive-thru passed a coffee into the car. “That does smell good.”
“Not too late if you want one.”
She shook her head.
“Well, let me ask. Do you do most of your work on the computer? Your editing work?”
“I do it on paper first, but yeah, I have to enter it into the computer to send it back to the author.”
“Maybe stop doing that a couple of hours before you go to bed. The light from the screen could be screwing up your sleep patterns. Don't read on your phone, either. If that’s asking too much,” he went on, holding up a finger when she would interrupt, “you can buy overlays to filter out the light that’s messing up your rhythms.”
“I heard about those but didn't know if it would work. And I can’t take any of the over the counter sleep medicine because then I am too foggy in the morning. I can fall asleep fine, I just can't stay asleep.”
“Maybe add some white noise, a fan or something.”
“Do that.”
“Sound machine?”
“I have an app on my phone, but I think it bothers Patrick. He says it makes him have to go to the bathroom.”
He laughed at that, and wondered if he probably shouldn’t be thinking about his new receptionist sleeping in her bed. Or picturing her in his.
“Well, your schedule is going to take some adjusting here anyway. You won’t have to wake up as early, but since you’ve been waiting tables for years, it’s going to take a while for your body to get used to it. We’ll see how the new schedule works, and we can try some new things. Exercise, you know, is pretty good for helping you sleep. Not right before bed, but maybe when you get home. You know, that can be the next thing we work on, after the cooking challenge. An exercise challenge. Maybe a 5K or something.”
“A 5K. In Broken Wheel. Where are people going to run? On the dirt roads? Or the ones all patched up?”
“I don't know. It was just a thought. Get someone here who can show people the proper way to exercise. Once we address the diets, you know. I think some people would really like it.” And there he went, picturing her in yoga pants and a sports bra. He needed to quit letting his mind run away with him. He took a sip of his coffee to distract himself.
