Page 16 of A Very Beary Christmas
“What do you think you’re doing?” he rumbled. Yes, rumbled. It sent shivers of awareness through me, shivers that had nothing to do with my sickness and everything to do with that deep, masculine voice. “You should be in bed.” He lifted his chin in that direction, and I noticed he had changed the sheets while I had been in the bathroom. “Go on, now. I heated up some soup.”
Warmth bloomed in my chest. He couldn’t possibly know how much I appreciated his concern, but I never had been the mushy type. So instead, I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him, familiar words coming to mind.
“You’re not the boss of me.”
His lips quirked. They were full and male, and I couldn’t help wondering what they would be like to kiss.
“I am today. Bed. Soup. Then we’ll talk.”
I stared at him stubbornly, refusing to back down. Having been on my own for a long time, I wasn’t used to people ordering me around. Plus, I had been bullied my whole childhood, but that had stopped the day I turned eighteen and left for good.
His eyes softened. “Please, Chloe,” he said. “Sit down before you fall down.”
Something inside me softened, too. Iwasswaying on my feet.
I went back to the bed and sat down.
Sam crossed the room in two long strides, put the soup on the bedside stand, then reached down and swung my legs so I was sitting up in bed. I watched in fascination as he then drew the covers over me and sat down beside me. Had he been anyone else, I would have kicked him out, flu or no flu. But Sam was different. Ilikedthe fact that he wanted to care for me. I always had. I wanted to care for him, too, but even as a kid, he’d been so capable, while I struggled simply to survive.
“Thanks,” I said when he placed the bowl in my hands. The aroma of Mr. O’Malley’s potato soup reached my nostrils, making my stomach rumble. It was good to feel hungry again. “I’m guessing you’re the reason my place is warm and I have hot water.”
He shrugged. “I needed to do something to keep myself busy while you were snoring away in bed.”
“Wait. How long have I been sleeping?”
“About thirty-six hours, give or take.”
Thirty-six hours?No wonder I felt so rested.
“You’ve been here all this time?”
“I just found you again, Chloe. I’m not about to leave.”
His words surprised me, and a small kaleidoscope of butterflies tried to take flight in my chest.
“Found me? Does that mean you were looking?”
“I never stopped.”
