Page 82 of Good Girls Don't Kiss and Tell (Rock Canyon, Idaho 7)

She couldn’t be sure, but she thought he said, “I know, baby, but I’m going to take care of you.”

Then she was out.

* * *

Eric had taken Gracie back to his place and tucked her into his bed. Fuzz, as he’d named his new dog, sat next to the bed, staring at her with excitement, his poofy black tail thumping the floor. Eric decided it was probably better to bring the dog with him so Gracie didn’t wake up and in her delirium, think a monster was after her. She’d been so out of her head in the car, slurring all kinds of off-the wall things. He’d stopped by her place and told her parents she was recovering at his home, which they seemed to be relieved about. Apparently, getting sick on their vacation wasn’t part of the plan.

A little over an hour later, he walked through his front door with four bags of groceries in his hands, Fuzz on his heels, and two movies he’d thought Gracie might like. Both looked extra girly and romantic, exactly something to brighten the spirits of a sick woman with a propensity

to squeal at kissing scenes. He only knew that because one afternoon when she’d been at his place, she’d stopped on one of the movie channels, and some Tom Hanks film was on. She’d made him watch the whole thing, and he’d grumbled a bit on principle, but it hadn’t been that bad.

Of course, when good old Tom got the girl in the end, he’d given her a big speech and kissed her, making Gracie’s mouth utter the most horrendous, ear-splitting squeals that would have made piglets jealous. When he’d mentioned the comparison, she’d whacked him with a pillow, and he’d retaliated by pinning her down and tickling her into submission.

Fuzz gave a little woof, and Eric turned from unloading the groceries to find Gracie standing in his sweatshirt and sweats. Her nose was red, her face was a little green, and she just looked so miserable, he wanted to hug her. “I’ve got stuff to make you feel all better.”

Gracie wrapped her arms around her body, visibly shaking. “You don’t have to take care of me.”

“Yeah, I kind of do. Pretty sure your parents put up a blockade at the front door the minute they heard you were infected.”

Her smile was weak and pitiful. “Yeah, my mom’s become a bit of a germaphobe in her old age.”

“For your health, I don’t think I would ever refer to your mom as old,” Eric teased.

Gracie’s laugh turned into a rough cough and then a groan. He grabbed a bottle of cold water and handed it to her.

“Thank you. It was sweet of you to do all this, and I will pay you back.”

He frowned at her, irritated she’d even suggest it. “No, you won’t. I can get you a couple of groceries without asking for a payback.”

“But you made a special trip and risked your health.”

Eric walked over to her, maneuvering around Fuzz, who was sniffing and nuzzling her hand. He bent over and kissed her forehead. “Just shut up and go lie down. Are you hungry?”

“Not really.” To his surprise, she leaned against him. The fever must have wiped away the fact that she was mad at him.

“How about some juice? Or I could make you my mother’s multivitamin shake. It’s got spinach, mushrooms, garlic, vinegar… It’s nasty, but full of things that knock colds and the flu in the ass.”

“It sounds disgusting,” she mumbled against his chest. “Why would she give you something like that?”

“I think she started giving it to us to make sure we weren’t faking it. There was no way she could get that horrendous concoction down Grant or me unless we were too ill to fight.”

She gave a weak laugh, and he wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the feel of her closeness, sick or not. After several moments, she pulled back and croaked, “I think I’ll just take some orange juice. If I’m not better in a few days, I’ll let you pour your mother’s green gunk shake down my gullet.”

“Whatever you say. Now go lie down, I’ll be in there in a bit. And I got these for you. They looked up your alley.” He handed her the movies, and her whole face brightened.

“Oh, I’ve wanted to see these.” She kissed his chest, her lips burning through his flannel shirt. “You’re the best.” As if she realized what she’d just done, her cheeks turned scarlet. “I really shouldn’t let you do this. I’ve been terrible to you, and you shouldn’t—”

“If you don’t get out of here and go lie down, I’m going to carry you back in there and tie you to the bed.”

A little spark of Gracie’s sassiness peeked through her tired eyes when she rasped, “You shouldn’t say those kinds of things when I’m too weak to enjoy them.”

Even though she looked like she’d been through the wringer and haggard as hell, her reply sent a message to his johnson to stand at attention. Man, he had it bad for this woman.

“When you’re at full strength again, I promise to follow through.” Once she was out of sight, with Fuzz hot on her heels, he finished with the groceries and then poured her some juice. He opened a pack of cold pills and had to admit that he liked taking care of Gracie.

He walked into the room and saw her curled up on her side on top of the blankets. He figured she’d fallen back asleep and started to leave the juice by the bed, but she rolled over.

“Hey, I brought you some cold meds that should make you feel a bit better.”