About an hour after Alex gave her the shot, she summoned the energy to get out of bed. She’d anticipated a messy house, a hungry child, and a grumpy caretaker. What shehadn’texpected was her muscular, hard-as-stone neighbor, holding her son, comforting him, and telling him it was okay to cry.
She panicked, thinking Cal was hurt, but then overheard Alex reassure him that he would take care of Charlie. The lifeless beagle by the door confirmed her suspicion, and tears started down her face. Charlie had been her constant shadow for nearly ten years. By her side for all of life’s significant milestones—getting married, having Calvin, and Sean’s death. Her migraine had subsided to bearable, but now her heart ached something fierce.
Charlie was old and had been weakening by the day. She should have done a better job preparing Calvin for the inevitable. She would miss Charlie, but so would Calvin. He’d never known life without him. Plus, at five years old, he’d be dealing with the second death of someone he loved.
She would need to pull herself together before trying to comfort Calvin. It was selfish, lame, and horrible mothering, but she snuck back to bed and cried herself to sleep, secretly glad Alex was around to help.
The following morning, her head felt much better, and her stomach growled. That meant the migraine was over. Once she felt hungry, she knew she’d be fine. She slipped on a robe and tiptoed to the kitchen. Alex was sleeping on the couch, his long legs dangling over one side. She took a second to study him. He wore shorts and a T-shirt. His arms were stretched over his head, which caused his shirt to ride up, revealing a six-pack of abs that made her hungry for something other than food.
The calendar image sprang to mind, and she could tell immediately that they hadn’t done anything to enhance his picture. He was every bit as muscular and hunky as the photo showed.
After lingering on his abs, her gaze slid up his chest and broad shoulders. When she got to his face, he was staring at her. He arched an eyebrow, letting her know he’d caught her ogling him. Her cheeks caught fire.
“Morning,” he said. “Feel better?”
“Yes,” she said, ripping off her glasses and shoving them into the pocket of her robe. The morning-after sickness look was bad enough. No need to add her ancient spectacles to the mix of rat nest hair, puffy eyes, and no makeup.
“You look fine,” he said with a chuckle. “In a death-warmed-over sort of way.”
She shook her head and smiled. “I don’t know how to thank you for everything. Taking care of me. And Calvin. I totally forgot my mom was out of town. I assume Calvin called you?”
“He came and got me, yes.” He sat up and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I have some bad news about Charlie. He passed away yesterday.”
“I know.” Fresh tears welled. “I heard you tell Calvin last night but didn’t have the energy to help you. Plus, I was so distraught, I wouldn’t have been any comfort to Cal.”
He rose and came to her, wrapping his arms around her. That only made the tears spill over and fall faster. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said sincerely. She relished in his warmth for a minute, then pulled away and swiped at her eyes.
“I’msorry,” she said. “You’ve done so much for us in the last twenty-four hours. I have no idea how I’m going to repay you.”
“Not needed. My mom suffered from migraines, so I know how debilitating they can be. I’m not leaving until you get some food in you either.”
At her confused look, he told her about the times his mother had passed out the day after a migraine. “She hadn’t eaten or had much to drink, and though her head felt better, she was still weak. The first time it happened, my dad freaked out and took her to the emergency room. The next time, he forced food into her once she came to.”
“Oh, yes. I call it a migraine hangover. I’ll make some toast and drink some juice so you can go.”
“You sit. I’ll make it.”
She started to protest, but he’d already moved to the kitchen, and she did feel a little unsteady. She sat on a barstool.
“I had a pet crematory pick up Charlie. They can cremate him and give you the ashes or bury him in their cemetery uptown. I told them you’d call today.”
“Thank you for handling that. Even if I hadn’t been sick, that would have been stressful. Is there a price difference?” Add this to the migraine medicine, and the bank was officially broken.
“I didn’t ask, but they have my credit card. Do what you want, and I’ll pay for it.” The toast popped, and he laid it on a plate.
“No. I can’t let you do that. I already owe you for the shots. How’d you get them, by the way?”
“I had to fib. Told ’em you were my wife. They didn’t have a problem with it. Butter or jam?”
“Jam,” she said. “And I’m serious. Let me know how much the medicine and the pet bill cost. I’ll pay you back for both. Don’t ask me when or how, but I will.”
“Please don’t worry about it. Seriously.” He spread a thick layer of strawberry jam on the toast and filled a glass with orange juice. It was weird how he knew where everything was. And how he floated around her kitchen like he owned the place.
“I do and will.” He set the food in front of her, but she hung her head. “I didn’t get the medicine because it cost too much, which was a supremely stupid decision. What would I have done without you? Calvin would have been here essentially all by himself. What if he’d tried to cook? Or leave the apartment?”
Panic set in at the thought of all the things that could’ve gone wrong, and she berated herself for being in this situation at all. It was too much. The bills were piling up. She couldn’t take care of her son properly. The only solution was to step up the husband hunt. She needed help.
“Hey, it’s all right. Everything worked out. Eat.” He hitched his chin toward the plate, and she picked up the toast and nibbled.
