Her Forever Hero (Unexpected Heroes) (5 page)

Grace could hear someone speaking, but she was exhausted. The damn cold she’d managed to catch had been playing havoc with her entire system, and she’d slept more in the last two days than she had in her entire life.

“Go ’waayy . . .” she mumbled, turning over and snuggling back under the blanket, which seemed to be holding her down. She didn’t mind being held down. A few more hours of sleep and she’d be right as rain.

“Come on, Grace, wake up. You should know better than to leave your apartment unlocked. Anyone could come strolling on in and do all sorts of things . . .” The person trailed off, and she started to become a little more alert. Then the voice registered, and her eyes shot open.

“Cam! What in the world are you doing in here?” she croaked as she struggled to sit up. She had zero strength at the moment, though, and it seemed an impossible task.

“I came to talk to you. I pounded on the door for a full five minutes. When I saw your car parked below, and there still wasn’t an answer, I got worried. I checked the knob and it was unlocked, so I came in to find you snoring on the couch.”

Strong hands circled her waist and assisted her in sitting up before he made himself comfortable and sat next to her. Glaring at him as she clutched her blankets, she pulled up her knees and hugged them to her chest. “I do not snore!”

“Out of everything I just said, that’s what you pick up on?”

“Well, I don’t,” she stated. “And as a man of the law, you should realize you’re trespassing. I could call the cops and have you arrested right now.”

“I’m shaking in my loafers,” he said, leaning back and making himself at home.

“Ugh. You’re a pig.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“And I’m sure you deserved it.”

“Ouch, someone woke up on the wrong side of the . . . couch.”

“Oh, my gosh, you always think you’re so amusing. Why don’t you leave and let me rest before I decide to breathe in your face and give you what I have.”

“Baby, you can do a hell of a lot more than breathe in my face if you’d like,” he said, leaning too close.

“Knock it off, Cam. This isn’t a fair fight. I don’t feel good,” she said, her heart picking up speed.

“You’ve always felt good to me,” Cam said. “But I’m going to make you a hot cup of tea, and then we’re going to talk business. You ran out on lunch the other day, remember.” He jumped up from the couch and disappeared around the corner to her kitchen.

She desperately wanted to tell him exactly where he could stick his hot cup of tea, but just the thought of it was doing crazy things to her parched throat. She could have called and asked her best friend, Sage, who just so happened to be a doctor, to come and take care of her, but Grace was independent, and she hadn’t wanted to admit she needed to be taken care of.

So she’d been miserable, barely able to move from the couch to the bathroom, let alone bustle around in the kitchen. When the teakettle whistled, she had to fan her face as her eyes burned with tears.

Grace Sinclair did
not
cry. That was unacceptable. She especially didn’t cry over something as simple as someone making her a cup of tea. When she was feeling normal again, she’d kick herself, because weak women irritated the hell out of her.

Cam walked back into the room a few minutes later holding her late grandmother’s lap tray, a pot with hot water in it, a china cup, a small cup of soup, crackers, and a tomato sandwich, her absolute favorite, cut in half on the diagonal. He remembered, and it took a strength she didn’t know she possessed to refuse to let any of this mean anything to her. So he opened a can and boiled some water. Big freaking deal.

“You didn’t need to do this,” she said, her throat tight. She accepted the tray, though, and didn’t waste any time pouring her tea and adding a dollop of honey before she took ravenous mouthfuls of her soup.

“I wanted to do it,” Cam told her before sitting back down.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you,” Cam said, and she sent him another withering look.

“I said, ‘Thank you!’ ” But she sounded anything but thankful.

“You always have had a difficult time thanking people,” Cam told her.

“That’s because most people do things for selfish reasons, not because they’re truly selfless,” she said, then frowned when she realized her sandwich was gone.

“Want another one?”

“No . . .” But she drew out the
no
. His attentiveness was sapping her will.

Cam laughed and climbed off the couch, grabbed her plate, then disappeared again. She could have tried to stop him, but the food was giving her some much-needed energy, and she hadn’t eaten in . . . hell, it had to be two full days now.

He returned as she was pouring a second cup of tea. He set the sandwich on her tray and sat back down. “Feeling better? Do you need any medicine? I can make a pharmacy run.”

“I am feeling a little better. And for real, thank you,” she said as she sipped her tea and then began nibbling on the second sandwich.

“Medicine?” he repeated.

“I wouldn’t mind some NyQuil,” she practically whispered. “It’s on the kitchen counter.” She had no doubt she was going to have to repay his kindness, but it was so nice to have someone taking care of her, even if only for a little while. A truce was acceptable under the circumstances.

Cam jumped up again and retrieved the capsules, along with some water to wash it down. When she finished her meal, he set the tray on her coffee table before giving her a look that made her instantly nervous.

“We still need to chat, but since you’re sick, and slightly stinky at the moment . . .” he said with a chuckle.

“I do
not
stink!” she snarled.

“Okay, I made that up, but I’m sure now that you have a little energy, you would love a hot bath.”

Oh, that did sound like heaven, but it was far too much effort. “I’m fine,” she told him, although it pained her to say it.

“You forget that I know you, Grace. We may have been apart most of the last ten years, but before that we were inseparable.”

“That was a very long time ago, Cam. People change.”

“Yes, but not that much, and if I remember correctly, you can sit in a tub until your entire body is a mass of wrinkles—if you have a good book.”

With that, he leapt up again, and soon her ears pricked up at the heavenly sound of running water. Her slight food buzz was already diminishing, and she wasn’t at all sure she’d have the energy to get up, undress, and bathe, but even though he had retracted his “stinky” comment, she felt disgusting. The cold had left her either shivering or stewing in her own juices, and washing off the sweat sounded better than a million dollars right now.

Ten minutes later Cam came back in the room. “Okay, up you go,” he said, and then her cover was being flung aside, and before she knew what he intended, his arms went beneath her and he was lifting her up, holding her securely against his solid chest.

“Mmm, I remember this,” he whispered.

Grace felt her chest restrict. Yeah, she remembered it too well herself. He marched into her room, then to the bathroom, and only stopped when he reached the tub. He set her down on the side. “Need help undressing?”

“No! I’ve got this,” she told him.

The adrenaline from being pressed up against him had given her back her lost energy, and she felt her cheeks grow hot at the thought of him stripping her clothes away.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen it before,” he reminded her softly, temptingly.

“That was in the Dark Ages, Cam.” Thankfully he didn’t remind her of their naked reunion a few months ago.

“Okay, I’m going to leave the door cracked in case you need me,” he told her, and disappeared.

Grace undressed, then sighed in complete contentment as she slid into the deep bubble bath and leaned her head against the bath pillow he’d blown up and attached to the back of the tub. Cam had even left a book on the side of the tub, but she couldn’t even imagine holding her arms out of the hot water long enough to take it.

With a blissful sigh, comforting food in her stomach now, she closed her eyes and quickly fell asleep.

Cam’s determination to make Grace listen to him had died the second he panicked at her front door, imagining all sort of horrible things that could have happened to her when she didn’t answer, especially since Sage had said she hadn’t heard from her in a few days.

When he’d walked inside and found her curled up on the couch, her nose red, her breathing uneven and scratchy, he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and take care of her.

Since her return last year, he’d tried telling himself it was time to move on, that it was more than obvious she wasn’t interested in rekindling their romance. If only it were that easy. She’d been his first real love, the source of his best childhood memories, and the girl he’d let slip through his fingers. Their chemistry was undeniable even today.

Now that she was in trouble, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to protect her. Right now, though, the only thought running through his mind was the fact that she was less than fifty feet from him, soaking naked in a tub full of water and slippery soap.

He groaned as he scrubbed her sandwich plate a little too hard, nearly breaking it when he set it on the towel he’d laid out on her counter. His brothers would really enjoy watching this—Cam cooking, making tea, and then doing dishes. He’d never be able to live that one down.

But what else was he supposed to do? She was sick. And some things really never did change. Grace just wasn’t the sort to ask for help, even if her life were in jeopardy. That was just who she was.

Well, Cam had been raised quite differently. He’d been brought up by a man who still believed in helping his neighbors, who wouldn’t stand idly by while an elderly person in the parking lot loaded their own groceries, and who would never abandon a friend in a time of need. And whether Grace wanted to admit it or not, she was in need at the moment. Now, if Cam could just convince his body that she was only his friend, and that he wasn’t going to be doing anything with her naked body, he would be all good.

When half an hour passed, he decided he’d better check on her. “Grace . . .” No answer. “Grace?” he called again. Still nothing.

Peeking in through the door, he found her with her head resting against the bath pillow, her mouth partially open, and quiet snores drifting from between her slightly swollen, very reddened lips. Even when she was sick, he wanted to capture her mouth with his.

Nope. Shaking his head, he stepped into the bathroom, either very thankful for or maddened by the miracle of bubbles. Although they weren’t nearly as high as when the bath had first been drawn, they still managed to conceal all his favorite places on her magnificent body.

“Grace . . .” He leaned in and shook her shoulder.

She didn’t stir so much as an inch; she just mumbled and then tried to turn, her head almost slipping beneath the surface of the bathwater. “How much am I going to be tested?” he asked no one in particular.

Grabbing a towel from the rack, he draped it across his chest, then pulled the plug on the bath, and reached into the tub, letting his hands slide against her slick flesh until he got a good hold on her before pulling her straight into his arms.

She immediately began shivering. He covered her as much as he could, then grabbed another towel and draped that over her, too, before quickly stepping into her bedroom, where her bed was a mess of tangled blankets.

Setting her down on one side of the bed, one towel beneath her, the other on top, he then threw her comforter over her. Grace reached out—he imagined it was for him—grabbed a pillow, and snuggled into it.

Camden stood there for a moment trying to figure out what to do next. There was no way he had the willpower to dry her off and dress her. That was asking way too much of him. He’d done his best not to peek while pulling her out of the tub, but a man could be held responsible for only so much.

Turning away to reduce the brutal waves of temptation, he went off to search her linen closet and was thrilled when he found another thick comforter along with clean sheets and spare blankets.

She was curled up in a ball on one side of the bed, so he pulled the sheets off the mattress on the other side, slid the new bedding into place, and tucked it in by her. Then he faced Grace again. He still had the problem of her state of undress. He was sure she was dry now, what with the towels and the thick comforter, but she’d want to wear at least a nightie in case she woke up and needed the bathroom.

He found an indecently short gown hanging behind the door in the bathroom, with spaghetti straps on top and lace around the hem. “Dammit!” Of course she slept in sexy nightclothes. When they’d dated, they’d stolen moments together, never being able to stay a whole night in the same place. He wondered if she’d worn the same sexy undergarments back then.

“Give me strength,” he said, looking upward.

Moving back into her room, he draped the gown over her head without moving the blankets, then reached beneath them and pulled it down her body, his knuckles grazing her flesh. Cam was sweating by the time he was done, and it wasn’t from overexertion.