Susan Mallery - Completely Smitten

He compromised by deciding to stay until he knew that she was all right. At least he no longer had to worry about his virtue. There was nothing like barfing one’s guts out to break the romantic mood.

Twenty minutes later it was all over but the moaning. Kevin walked to the bathroom door and knocked softly.

“Tell me you’re still alive,” he said.

A groan came in response.

He pushed the door open and found Haley curled up on the bathroom floor. Her eyes were closed, her skin the color of fog. The soft strands of blond hair now lay plastered against her forehead.

“I’m dying,” she gasped.

“It only feels that way.”

She shook her head, then groaned again.

“Come on,” he said, crouching next to her. “Get up and take a shower. You’ll feel better.”

She opened one eye. “I’m never going to feel better.”

“Hot water works wonders.”

Her eyelids fluttered shut.

“Come on, little one,” he said, slipping his arm around her and pulling her into a sitting position.

She kept her eyes closed until she was upright, then opened them slowly.

“Is the world still spinning?” he asked.

“A little. It’s not as fun as it was before.”

“I’ll bet.” He shifted so he could unbuckle her ugly shoes. “You’re probably done throwing up.”

“So now I can pass away in peace?”

“Not on my watch.” He pulled her up until she was sitting on the edge of the tub. “How about a change of clothes for after your shower? Do you have a robe or something?”

“I have a nightgown in the top drawer.”

“Stay here. I’ll go get it.”

Kevin walked into the bedroom. He wasn’t sure what he expected when he slid open the drawer, but any visions of lace and satin were quickly squelched when he saw the high-necked, long-sleeved, cotton granny gown.

He returned to find her sitting right where he’d left her.

“Can you stand?” he asked.

“Why would I want to?” He chuckled.

She glared. “You should have a little more respect for the dying.”

“Death is a long way off, Haley. You only wish it wasn’t.”

He pulled her to her feet. She swayed a little. He shifted so she had a clear line to the toilet, but she didn’t bolt, so he figured they were both safe.

After pulling the plastic curtain halfway closed, he turned on the water until it was steaming hot, then adjusted the temperature to just below scalding and pulled the knob to start the spray.

He stepped back. Haley didn’t budge. He gave her a little push toward the water.

“You can get in dressed or undressed,” he said. “Your choice.”

One hand fluttered behind her before falling back to her side. He sighed heavily, then pulled down the zipper of her dress. As he did so, he was careful not to look at anything more interesting than the sink he could see over her shoulder. He stepped back and headed for the door.

“Holler if you need anything.”

“Okay.”

He heard her dress hit the floor. His imagination supplied a perfect picture of everything he hadn’t seen. He had a feeling the real thing would be even better. “Kevin?”

He made the mistake of turning around before he realized the potential for disaster. Haley stood facing him, now clutching her dress to herself, but behind her was the small mirror. It reflected a slender back, narrow waist and gentle curving hips. Cream-colored perfection.

He made himself look only at her eyes. “What?”

She swallowed. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

He retreated to the bedroom where he was tortured by the sounds of her in the shower. Reminding himself that she had just been sick, and probably felt less appealing than a fur ball, didn’t help.

He paced restlessly for ten minutes, then forced himself to sit on the edge of the bed and click channels until he found the ball game. It was tied in the eighth inning and damned if he didn’t care at all.

The shower finally went off. There were more sounds he couldn’t identify, then the bathroom door opened.

Haley stood dwarfed by her cotton nightgown. The fabric hung to the floor and concealed every single curve and womanly feature. She was pale, but she no longer looked quite so desperate. Her wet hair stood up in spikes. She’d said she was twenty-five, but right now she could pass for twelve.

“I still feel pretty awful,” she said.

“That’ll teach you to suck down margaritas at the speed of sound. The good news is you got most of the alcohol out of your system tonight. You’ll be fine in the morning.”

“I hope you’re right.”

He stood and pulled back the covers. She slid into bed, sitting up against the pillows instead of lying down.

“You need plenty of water,” he told her, filling a glass from a bottle she had on the small table. “You want to stay hydrated.”

She nodded as he put the glass on the nightstand. “Are you leaving?”

Her eyes seemed bigger than before. Her mouth trembled slightly and her voice shook as she spoke. She looked like a drowned kitten.

Good sense insisted that he head out now that he knew she was all right. There was no point in staying. In the morning she could get back to whatever it was she’d been doing, and he would catch a flight back to D.C. where he was expected for a two o’clock meeting.

He stared at her, then the door. Her fingers twisted the sheet. “I’ll be fine,” she whispered. “You’ve been really nice and I don’t want to take advantage of that.”

He called himself eight different names, none of them fit for her ears, kicked off his shoes and sat on the bed.

“I’ll stay for a little while,” he said, shifting close and putting an arm around her.

She snuggled against him, resting her head on his chest where her damp hair quickly soaked his shirt. Oddly, he didn’t mind.

He told himself looking after her was like caring for a child. Except she didn’t feel very childlike in his arms. Nor was his reaction to her even close to paternal.

“You know all about me,” she said after a few minutes. “What about you? Where are you from?”

“A place you’ve never heard of. Possum Landing, Texas.”

She glanced up and smiled. “Possum Landing?”

He nodded. “Lived there all my life. My brother and I were born in the Dallas area.”

“You have a brother?”

“Fraternal twin. Nash works for the FBI.”

She sighed. “I always wanted a sister, although a brother would have been nice. Sometimes it got quiet, what with there only being me.”

“Your father never remarried?”

“No. He and my mom were really in love. He used to tell me that no one could ever take her place. When I was little I thought that was really romantic, but as I got older, I thought it sounded lonely.”

Kevin agreed. His mother and stepfather had a good, strong marriage, but if something happened to one of them, he would hate to think the other was destined to a solitary life. Not that he was in a position to talk. After all, he’d managed to avoid matrimonial bliss for all of his thirty-one years.

“You’re a pretty young woman,” he said. “How come you’ve only kissed three guys?”

She raised her head and looked at him. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Fishing for compliments?”

She smiled. “If you knew how seldom they came along, you wouldn’t be asking the question.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. Why weren’t people complimenting her? Then he remembered the ugly dress and even worse-looking shoes. Maybe it wasn’t such a stretch to think she’d been overlooked.

“Yes, I think you’re pretty,” he said. “Tell me about dating.”

“You mean, not dating.” She dropped her head back onto his shoulder. “I can’t really explain it. Some of the reason I never went out much was because I was busy with school activities and different things at church. Some of it was my dad. He used to lecture me on the importance of setting an example and doing the right thing. Plus everywhere I went in town, I knew people. They reported back any hint of unacceptable behavior.”