Page 11 of Cowboy and the Convict

"What about these?" Devon stepped back into view, holding up her softest, stretchiest pair of PJ bottoms. "These seemed like they would be the most comfortable."

Janie snatched them away, just as irritated at his helpfulness as she had been at his lectures. "Thanks." Closing the door between them, she leaned against the sink base and slowly worked her legs into the supersoft jersey, sighing a little as she settled the un-restricting waistband into place.

Reaching for the doorknob, she paused. Skimming her tongue across the front of her teeth, Janie turned to the sink and grabbed her toothbrush. Once her teeth were clean, she figured she might as well spend a couple extra minutes scrubbing down her face, so after pulling back her hair, she washed away the makeup she’d put on earlier and then smoothed a layer of moisturizer over her skin. Everything took ten times longer than normal, because the Vicodin and whiskey she consumed—which were no longer doing the job she hired them for—still packed enough of a punch to have her loopy and unbalanced.

Keeping one hand on the wall just in case the world decided to tilt again, Janie opened the door and stepped into her bedroom. She blinked, taking in the scene in front of her before blinking again. Surely she wasn't seeing what she thought she was.

But when she opened her eyes again, it was all still the same. The candles on her dresser were still lit. The glass of water was still on her nightstand, placed directly on top of the coaster she kept there. The throw pillows she put into place every morning were stacked on the chair in the corner, and the duvet and sheets were pulled back.

This had to be some sort of a trick. If it wasn't a dream, and she wasn’t in the twilight zone, Devon must have some sort of self-serving reason for all he was doing.

"I plugged in your heating pad and put it on the middle setting." Devon reached out to steady her as she rounded the bed. "I wasn't sure how warm you liked it, so I figured you could adjust it from there." He waited as she sat down, propping her back up against the bed pillows still in place since it felt odd to fully lay down with him here. Once she was situated, he tucked the covers around her. Then Devon held out a plate of crackers smeared with peanut butter.

She pressed the heating pad to her abdomen as she studied the offering. "What's that for?"

"You need to eat something, otherwise you're going to be sick." He settled the plate on her lap. "Crackers will help settle your stomach and the peanut butter will give you a little protein." He tipped his head, lips curving into a grin. "Plus it tastes good."

And she was back to being sure she was dreaming. It was the only reasonable explanation for why Devon Peters was standing beside her bed, all decked out in his uniform, smelling fantastic and grinning as he talked about how good something tasted. Dreaming was also the only explanation for the hard right turn her brain took at that statement, especially since not an inch of her felt sexy or desirable at the moment.

He tipped his head toward the plate. "Eat. I need you to sober up before I go."

"Fine." She picked up one of the crackers and shoveled it in, chewing through the sticky, sweet, salty goodness that checked all her mid-period boxes. After swallowing down three of the six, Devon passed over the water.

"Drink half of that."

She rolled her eyes but took a healthy swallow, washing down the tasty, but gluey, combination of cracker and peanut butter. Once she was finished drinking, he took the glass, motioning at the three remaining crackers. "Finish those up." His expression stayed serious as she worked her way through the rest. "No more pills tonight, got it?"

“Sure.” She grabbed another cracker, refusing to acknowledge how oddly good they tasted. Must be the alcohol, even though its effects were rapidly diminishing, leaving her less blurry, but more uncomfortable.

“What did you take for the pain earlier?” Devon watched intently as she finished up her late-night snack.

It wasn’t his business, but she found herself telling him anyway. “Vicodin.”

Devon passed off the water when the crackers were gone and took her plate. "You need to get all the alcohol out of your system. They’re both depressants, and mixing them was a terrible fucking idea."

She finished swallowing down the water and shoved the glass in his hands. "That's easy for you to say. You don't have to deal with cramps so bad it feels like your insides are going to explode."

"That is true." Devon walked out of her room, and she listened as he switched on the sink. A minute later, there was a jostling of dishes, then he was right back in her room, invading her personal space in a way she would likely never be able to forget. "But I have seen what happens when you start taking too many things at once, and I really don't want to wake up tomorrow and hear someone found you unresponsive and had to take you to the hospital."

"Stop being dramatic. It's really not that big of a deal, I promise." She slowly shifted her way down the mattress, wincing a little when the movement exacerbated the sympathetic tightening of the muscles in her abdomen and lower back. "If it was going to kill me, it would've done it way before now."

Devon’s mouth flattened into a deep frown, moving her attention to the perfect shape of his lips. "That's not how that shit works, Janie. It just takes once. One time of underestimating how much you drank or forgetting how many pills you've taken."

"Listen, I know you think you're being helpful and that it's your job to take care of me and tell me how I should live my life, but until you’ve dealt with the lining of one of your organs deciding to take over your insides, you can fuck right off."

Devon’s frown became deeper, his hazel eyes moving over her as she tried to find a comfortable position. "You have endometriosis?"

Her head bobbed back, eyes jumping to his. "You know what that is?"

Devon sighed, like he couldn't believe she'd even asked. "I have three daughters that I'm raising on my own. I've had to Google just about everything that has to do with the female reproductive system so I can help them deal with all the bullshit that comes with it." He stepped closer, lifting the covers. "Roll over and lay on the heating pad."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

He heaved out another long sigh. "Just trust me, all right?" He held the blankets out of her way. "I know I haven't been through as many periods as you have, but I'm kind of becoming a professional at helping get rid of cramps."

His faith in his skills was amusing enough she laughed. "Sure you are." Her trust in him had nothing to do with why she rolled over and positioned her belly on the heating pad. It was desperation. The off chance that he could ease her suffering even the tiniest bit. Turning her face his way, she tried to relax. "Let's see this miracle cramp cure you've figured out."

The bed sagged as he sat down next to her, hesitating a second as his eyes lifted to her face. "Can I touch your lower back?"

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