Page 106 of Hot Damn
“Good. Okay. Good.”
Laughing, I let him lead the way downstairs. We’re not all theway down when the most delicious smell has my stomach rumbling loudly.
Pressing my free hand to my belly, I send a sheepish smile Beckett’s way. “Guess I’m hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten since yesterday.” He glances at the watch on his wrist. “Almost twenty-four hours.”
“Really? What time is it?” I feel like I’ve slept for days but I can’t have been out that long. My hair’s still damp from my earlier shower.
“Five. PM.”
“Wow. Okay, yeah, close to twenty-four hours. No wonder my belly feels hollow.”
“The doctor said you might have a bit of nausea when you woke. I made soup though, so that should be gentle on your system.”
“Soup?”
“Chicken noodle.”
“Does it taste as good as it smells?”
“Yes!” Whitney races over to us as we reach the last step. “Here. This way.”
Whitney grabs my hand and pulls me away from her father, tows me into the dining room where the table has been set for three.
“Sit down.” She urges me into a chair already pulled out from the table. “I’ll get the soup. Dad, get drinks. I brought a couple of the energy ones from the gym fridge up for Cami. Get her one of those as well as some ice water. I’ll just have ice water.” Directions given, Whitney leaves the room.
I tip my head up and smile at Beckett. “She usually give orders?”
“No, but she’s been really worried about you.” He bends over and brings his face close to mine. “She insisted on sitting with you when you fell asleep after your shower.”
“Oh.” I frown in the direction Whitney went. “I hate that.”
“Don’t. She’s a lot like me, keeps to herself a lot so doesn’thave a heap of friends. Her concern shows she’s chosen you as one.”
“Hmm… I’m sure you weren’t happy about that.”
“In the beginning, no, but then I wasn’t taking into account who you are. Just saw your job and decided you couldn’t be trusted.”
“Probably didn’t help that I was involved in the whole Draper incident.”
Beckett blows out a breath. “Probably. Doesn’t mean I don’t owe you an apology.”
“I think you’ve apologized enough.”
“I haven’t at all.”
“Beckett, as much as I love words and they’re how I make a living, I’m a firm believer in actions speaking louder than words and you’ve done nothing but show me you’re sorry in the last few days.”
“Huh.”
“Dad, where are our drinks?” Whitney asks as she comes back, her hands gripping a large steaming pot.
“Sorry, on it now.” Beckett shoots me a grin and a wink before he heads off.
“This is the best soup.” Whitney places the pot on a folded towel between the three placemats. “I’ll serve you just in case you’re a little shaky. It’s not one of the side effects of Zolpidem but you haven’t eaten in a day so…”
Arching an eyebrow, I study her. “And you know this how?”
