Page 36 of Guarded from Treachery

Her eyes go wide. “Matt. You put all that together while I was in the shower?”

My ears heat. “Is it okay? I researched the best things to eat after morning sickness and these are some of the things I found. But if you don’t like them, I can find something else.”

Isla bites her lip as she stares at the tray for a moment. As she looks back up at me, moisture shines in her gaze. “No, it’s perfect. Thank you, Matt.”

Grabbing the tray with one hand, I touch Isla’s arm with the other. “Why don’t you relax on the couch for a while? Watch some TV while you eat?”

As I gently guide her into the living room, she asks, “But what about work?”

“Do you really want to go? Because I got a note from Jade to give to your boss. Since she’s a physician assistant, I figured it would work. And it’s not like Jade’s lying about you being sick, I told her all of your symptoms and she agreed that taking a day off to rest would be a good idea.”

“Well…” Isla sinks onto the couch and lets out a little sigh. Her eyes close for a second. “I didn’t sleep very well last night. And I woke up early feeling sick.” Indecision flickers across her features. “Itwouldbe nice to stay home. But I don’t want my boss to?—”

“He won’t.” I set the tray on the coffee table and take a seat on the cushion beside her. “We’ve got it covered. And maybe you don’t have a virus or a bug, but I think it’s pretty clear your body could use the rest.”

She folds her legs together, pretzel-style, and reaches for the steaming mug of ginger tea. Lifting it to her nose, she takes a deep inhale. “Even the smell makes me feel better.” After she takes a sip, she asks, “You really don’t think it’ll be a problem if I miss work? With it being a new job, and I’ve already missed some time…”

“It won’t be a problem,” I reply firmly. Whether I have to hack into the personnel files or have a private conversation with Isla’s boss, I’ll make sure she doesn’t have to worry about it. With a smile, I add, “Just think, you can binge that new house flippers show on HGTV, maybe work on your new model, take a nap…”

A smile teases her lips. “That does sound nice.” She pauses before adding hopefully, “And maybe working on that new castle inMinecraft? Unless you have other work to do?”

Do I have other work to do? Yes.

Could I put it off to spend a few hours with Isla instead? Definitely.

“I’d love to work on the castle,” I tell her. “How about you eat first, we’ll watch some TV, and once you’ve rested, we’ll work on the next floor of the castle?”

Her face lights up. “That sounds really nice. But you’re sure you don’t?—”

“Isla. I want to. Lounging on the couch watching aspirational home improvement shows I have no intention of emulating? Eating saltines with peanut butter?” For emphasis, I snag one of the saltines and pop it into my mouth. Once I finish chewing, I continue, “And hanging out with you? PlayingMinecraft? It sounds like just about the best day I can imagine.”

“Matt.”Emotion darkens her eyes to a deep twilight. “Do you have any idea how great you are?”

“Me?” I waggle my eyebrows at her. “I’m not that great. More like average.”

“Hardly.” Isla sets her mug down and shifts around so she’s facing me. “You’re more than great, Matt. I can’t believe—” Her cheeks flush. “Anyway. You’re incredible. Definitelynotaverage.”

Out of the blue, my chest feels inexplicably full, like a balloon filled close to bursting.

My throat feels thick.

“I’m sorry,” Isla says quietly. She touches my arm, her slender fingers warm and soft against my skin. “Should I not have said that?”

“No, no. It’s fine.” I smile at her. “I’m glad you think so. Although I’d have to say you’re the incredible one.”

With a little snort, she replies, “Hardly.”

“You are.” As our gazes meet, my heart stutters. “Trust me.”

Pink rises in her cheeks. Then she takes a sip of tea, hiding her face behind the mug for a second. When she lowers it, her expression is as vulnerable as I’ve ever seen it. “I’ve never had anyone take care of me like that before.”

“Like what? When you were sick?”

“Yes.” A beat, and then, “My parents didn’t agree withcoddling, as they called it. Except for the time I broke my arm and theyhadto take me to the doctor, I had to take care of myself.”

My jaw clenches. “Even as a little kid?”

She nods, sorrow pulling at her features. “Even then. I remember one time, I must have been seven or eight, and I had a stomach bug. The school sent me home, but my father was working and my mother had some church event she was coordinating. Neither of them had time to take care of me, so they just left me at home with a bottle of ginger ale and a sleeve of saltines. I sat in the bathroom by myself for hours.”

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