Page 58 of Tempt Me

“I think they used leeches,” Caden says, as I sit down at the table.

“Blech” I say with a shudder. “I’ll stick with Tylenol.”

He has one of my oven mitts on and the contrast between the domesticity and the very bulk of him is jarring.

And a little sexy.

My stomach gives an embarrassingly loud growl as Caden places the bowl on the table.

“I hope this is okay,” he says. “Cooking was not one of the skills I picked up in Argentina, but I figured “heat soup in pot” should be easy enough.”

I’m barely listening—the first bite is heaven and I shovel the soup into my mouth so quickly I burn my tongue. When I’m finished and the bowl is empty, I sigh and sit back. My eyes feel heavy, my stomach full for the first time in days.

“Better?” Caden asks.

I nod. The morning light softens the line of his jaw, making the circles under his eyes stand out in sharp relief.

“You should go home,” I say. “Get some sleep yourself.”

As soon as I say the words, I have this sudden urge to take them back.

“No, no,” Caden says, waving his oven-mitted hand at me. “I told the doctor I would watch you for forty-eight hours and we still have…” He checks the clock on his phone. “Five hours left to go.”

“Okay,” I say, tucking my hair behind my ear. “What do you want to do for five hours?”

“Are you still tired? You could nap.”

“I feel like I’ve been sleeping for a week,” I say. “I’d like to be conscious for a while.”

“Understandable.” Caden takes off the mitt and reaches into a bag by the door, pulling out two board games. “Scattergories or Scrabble?” he says.

I let out a raspy laugh. “I don’t think you can play Scattergories with only two people.”

He frowns at the box. “I knew I shouldn’t have asked Finn to bring these over. He’s not really a board game kind of guy.”

“And you are?”

“Oh yeah.”

“How come we never played board games together?” As soon as I say it, I tense. Bringing up the past feels dangerous.

Caden shrugs. “We didn’t really hang out at each other’s homes.”

“No,” I agree. “I guess we didn’t.”

Not until that final, fateful night.

“Mom and I used to play Scrabble all the time,” Caden says. He cracks his knuckles. “Watch out. She taught me well.”

“Bring it,” I say, putting on my best mean face.

“I’m shaking in my boots,” Caden says as he starts to set up the game.

Two hours later and I’ve creamed him twice.

“Dammit,” he says as I beat him a third time. “I swear, I really am good at this game.”

“Oh, I can tell,” I say, as he gets up to refill my water glass. “But you forgot one crucial detail.”

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