He knocked me over with his astute observations of my eating habits and the fact that Everson knew that Shayna loved hummus was a bit endearing as well. I knew he loved her.
“You feel bad?” I frowned at Shayna curled up on my sofa.
“I think?—”
“Oh, sweetie…” I rushed to the sofa but not before she was bent over the side of it, vomiting. Luckily it missed my rug, staying confined to the hardwood floor.
“Lake…” Tears filled her eyes.
I grabbed a few tissues off the coffee table and blotted her eyes and then her mouth. “I know. It’s no fun to be sick.”
Three hours later Flint arrived with bags of groceries.
“I really appreciate you doing this. I know it’s probably not in your job description.” I started to take the groceries out of the bag as Flint walked over to the sofa and looked a Shayna sleeping.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Stuff for Shayna. Everything in that bag is for her: Baking soda, Epsom salt, brown vinegar, ground oatmeal, homemade anti-itch cream, essential oils, Jasmine tea, coriander and carrot juice with honey, and I upped the fruits and vegetables on the list Cage gave me. She needs to eat well to heal properly.”
Who was the guy in front of me?
“A ‘homemade’ anti-itch salve. Whose home?” I chuckled, looking at the amber glass container with no label, just ‘itch salve’ written in permanent marker on the white lid.
“I made it.”
I looked up at him with wide eyes. “You?”
He shrugged. “A simple internet search and a trip to Whole Foods. No big deal. I also emailed you instructions on how touse everything.”
Flint Hopkins was Mother Teresa in a custom-tailored suit. I imagined him concocting an itch salve in his kitchen, wearing a manly apron over his suit, maybe with his jacket off and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
“Thank you. I’m sort of… speechless.”
He held up his hand. “Really it was nothing.” He turned the door handle. “Call me if you have any questions or need anything else.”
I moved to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He stiffened like a board. Then I kissed his cheek. He cleared his throat as I released him.
“You’re a good man, Flint.”
He gave me a weak smile.
“Lake…” Shayna called with a raspy voice.
I rushed over to her, making sure the vomit bucket was within reach. When I looked back, Flint was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
LET ME LOVE YOU
CAGE
Iknocked on her door.
No answer.
I knocked again.
“I’m up to my ears in puke, let yourself in!”
