As they exited the Bamboo Gigolo, she grabbed Michael’s hand. So he wouldn’t fall down, of course. Either his thumb had a mind of its own, or he was determined to stroke the sensitive skin between her thumb and forefinger. The caress, so slow and seductive, felt as intimate as a touch between the thighs.
“I know why you’re doing this.” Michael turned to her once they were outside the club. “You just want to have your wicked way with me while I’m incapacitated. I’ll just let you know now I’m completely on board with your plan.”
“If you weren’t on the verge of collapse, I’d knock you down. Presumptuous man.”
“Ah, admit it, Em. You think I’m cute.”
“I think you’re trouble.”
He slid into the passenger side of Chris’s car, a shit-disturbing smirk on his sallow face. “Sweetheart, I think I’m just the sort of trouble you’ve been looking for.”
Emily did her best to keep her hands steady as she stuck the key in the ignition, but the keys jingled, as if declaring her lust to the whole world.
***
“I think you should get a second opinion.” Emily piled a second blanket on Michael as he sat on her loveseat. “Didn’t they run any tests at the hospital?”
“Blood work. That’s it.” He set the blankets to the side. One more blanket and he would drown in flannel. “I’m not cold, Em.”
She touched his forehead for the third time since they got to her condo. “You feel a little cold to me. How about a heating pad?”
Maybe he felt a slight chill but all the heating pads and pillows and blankets in the world wouldn’t change the fact all Michael really needed was to sink into the warmth of her sweet body. “I don’t need a heating pad. Stop fussing. You’re making me feel like the Princess and the Pea.”
“I can’t believe they didn’t find anything wrong with you.”
“Would you prefer something was wrong with me?”
“No, of course not, but you almost collapsed.”
“I’m better now. I promise. If you keep worrying, you’ll make yourself sick.”
“But the consultation barely lasted minutes. They rushed you. I’m convinced of it.” She narrowed her eyes. “You did tell them everything, right? I hope you didn’t leave out any details of your symptoms that might help the doctor make a diagnosis.”
He may have glossed over one or two details, but he hardly believed the Emergency Room doctor needed to know what he ate for breakfast last week and whether or not he had all his childhood vaccinations. “The doctor did what he needed to do and couldn’t find anything wrong with me. I’m as strong as an ox.”
Michael couldn’t deny it felt good to spy the concern in Emily’s green eyes, although he didn’t like seeing her fret. It was nice to know she cared enough to keep him company through the night, even if he didn’t need it.
He just wished he hadn’t given her a reason to worry. The flashbacks and headaches had always been upsetting, but never bad enough to distract him from work or play. Since Lacey told him of the network’s plan to persuade the daycare families to appear onHandymen, however, his pulse had begun to race. The letter from Toronto Police Services had exacerbated his sense of helplessness. The aura of foreboding that always teased his periphery seemed to be closing in on him.
Even now, he wanted to rage when he allowed himself to dwell on the idea of some heartless producer or reporter making light of the situation, exploiting some little kids in the hopes they’d say, “Michael is our hero!” Pathetic.
“At least you seem better now. I can make you a camomile tea or some chicken soup. I am the soup lady, after all. At any given time, I have ten soups ready to go.”
“Sit down, Em. If I decide I need soup, you’ll be the first to know.”
She sat opposite him in one of her grandmother’s Queen Anne chairs. “Okay. I’ll stop fussing. You have color in your cheeks again.”
“I feel ridiculous. I can’t believe I spaced out in front of everyone. I’ve never done that.”
“Your brothers are worried.”
“They don’t need to worry.”
“Okay then. I’m worried.”
Her comment lit the fuse on the cannons of his heart. Somewhere deep inside him, a twenty-one gun salute began to hiss and explode. “Please, don’t. I wish I’d been able to show you a good time tonight. I feel badly you didn’t get to stay for the whole gig. I wanted to cheer you up and I’ve only managed to bring you down.”
“I’m fine, and for the record, I loved what I heard. In fact, “Comfortably Numb” is one of my favorite songs.”
