Page 64 of Cowboy Stole My Heart
She shook her head. “I don’t feel so good. My stomach’s kind of leaping around.”
Sam was about to respond when she pushed open the door and bolted away, the little lights that illuminated the path down to her house the only reprieve from the darkness. He followed, worried about her, but not wanting to crowd her.
He listened to her door open, soon went through it himself and shut it behind him. And then he heard a sound that made his stomach weaken. She was definitely sick.
“Hey, anything I can do?” Sam called out, moving into her bedroom to stand beside the bathroom. He didn’t look in, wanting to give her some privacy.
He heard groaning and his heart went out to her. Dinner had tasted so good, but something told him that maybe it hadn’t been prepared so well. But then would she be sick so soon from that? He guessed so.
He walked to the kitchen, poured her a glass of water and returned, knocking lightly on the door. “I’m coming in.”
“No, don’t!” she groaned out.
Sam did anyway, going straight in and setting the glass down on the marble top. Then when she lurched forward,on her knees, hands on the toilet seat, he scooped her hair up and held it off her face.
“Go,” she whispered. “Please. Don’t… want… you…”
He winced when she was sick again, over and over, but he patiently held her hair and rubbed her back, feeling terrible for taking her to out for dinner only to have her sick so soon after.
“Have some water,” Sam said, finding a hair tie in the drawer and managing to twist it around her hair successfully so it didn’t fall forward. Then he passed her the glass. “Here.”
She took a small sip and passed it back to him, before lying on the cool tile, her cheek pressed to it.
“You can go,” she whispered against the floor.
Sam stood and ran the bath instead, knowing she must be feeling terrible. He listened to her vomit again and returned to rub her back, doing what he could.
“I’ll fill the bath, then you can get in when you start to feel a little better,” he said.
It was almost an hour later when Mia rose from the floor, holding out a hand to him. He pulled her to her feet and slowly undressed her, slipping her camisole off when she raised her arms and then sliding her jeans down over her ankles and off. When she was left in only her lacy panties, he carefully peeled them off too, admiring the curve of her ass and the softness of her golden skin as he did so, even though he never touched her sexually while he helped her. She was sick and he didn’t touch women who weren’t in the mood.
“Here you go,” he said, taking her arm and helping her in.
She sunk down, her hair still in the rough ponytail he’d formed for her.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
“Warm enough?” he asked.
She looked at him and gave him a barely-there smile, but he saw it.
“You don’t have to stay and look after me,” Mia said quietly.
“I know.” Sam checked she had towels on the heated rail and moved the water glass closer in case she wanted some. “I’ll just sit out here a while.”
He went back out to the kitchen, pulled the drapes and blinds and checked that her cat had food. The feline soon heard him and wound around his legs, and he tipped out some kibble and gave him a stroke. Then he went back into her bedroom, turned on her bedside lamp, and pulled the drapes in there, too.
“You’re still here?”
Mia’s soft voice made him turn. She was wrapped in a big fluffy white towel, her face scrubbed and pink, her hair twisted up on top of her head now.
“How are you feeling?”
“Embarrassed that you saw me like that,” she said. “And on the cusp of it starting all over again.”
He frowned and pulled the covers back, beckoning for her to come over. When she did he waited for her to lie down then pulled the covers up to her chin, bending to kiss her cheek.
“I take it we won’t be going back for fish tacos next weekend?” he teased.
“Sam!” she groaned.
He stroked her face then stood back. “You’re even beautiful bent over a toilet, Mia. Any man who hasn’t been able to see that before has rocks in his head.”
“I’m sorry tonight ended like this,” she whispered.
“Yeah, me too.”
He quietly slipped out then, so tempted to stay to make sure she was okay. But he didn’t. Couldn’t. Nothing had changed, and he’d looked after her as best he could. Their date had been fun, sexy, enjoyable as hell, but he didn’t stay over, period, and her being sick didn’t change that.
