Page 44 of Fluffed and Folded

“Anything weird that stood out to you. Did anyone try to warn you away from him? Did he make inappropriate contact, harass you, stalk you?”

Rogan shook his head, and then tipped it. “I guess I did hear something about him.”

“What?” Tristan was forced to ask, when he failed to elaborate.

“Someone told me that if you wanted something, Asher was the one to hook you up.”

“What kind of something?”

“Don’t know, I never found out,” Rogan said.

“Who told you that?”

Rogan squinted, thinking again, and then he smiled. “Come to think of it, I guess it was Asher himself.”

CHAPTER 25

All of his life, people had told Eli he was too nice. Until now, he hadn’t known what that meant. Was he supposed to be mean? Tough? Greet people by knocking their teeth out and stealing their chihuahua? What did people have against Mr. Nice Guy? But now that he found himself accidentally living with Darby, he began to understand.

That wasn’t how things started out, of course. He stayed at the hospital until she was discharged, slightly before noon the next morning. They were both a little punch drunk from their sleepless night. Darby was also a bit loopy from the high-caliber pain relievers they had her on, because she bordered on goofy. Given her previously reserved nature, it was kind of adorable to see her giggly. Eli, exhausted and in need of a shower, intended to drive her home and have done with it.

But she could barely walk.

Every step was agonizing. Not that Darby complained, but her lips pressed together and her face drained of color, so much that she practically collapsed semi-unconscious when he finally got her to her couch. He set her down and had to lift her feet, arranging them on the end of the couch before covering herwith a crocheted blanket. Darby stared up at him in wide-eyed silence.

“So,” he began, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.I’m heading out,felt so cold and cruel when she was in such bad shape and so very alone. Instead he knelt beside the couch, bringing him in easier relief of her face. “What can I get you?”

Her lashes fluttered as they filled with tears she tried to blink away, and she gave a little sniffle that tugged at his heart. “Would you…could you possibly make me some tea?”

It was such a small request, but she made it with the abject humility of someone who wasn’t used to asking for help. “Yep,” he said and didn’t resist the urge to reach out and push the hairs off her face, the wispy ones that stuck to her tears.

“Thank you,” she wobbled, giving another little sniff.

“Any particular kind or should I root through your cupboards?” he asked.

That brought a smile. “It’s only fair if you do, since I rooted through yours.”

“Searching my cupboards must have been the most boring delusion in history,” he noted.

“I don’t remember any of them, so either they were all dull, or I didn’t rank them,” she said and frowned. Was she thinking of Asher? Wondering what she had to do with him, if anything? How would it feel to be unable to remember large swaths of time? Not great, and on top of that she now had to recover from surgery and tumor removal.

“Tea,” he said, bringing her back to the present, as he swept another hair off her cheek.

“’Kay,” she murmured sleepily, shooting him a tremulous smile.

He helped himself to her kitchen, which was much tidier and more organized than his. The tea and mugs were in the samecupboard, along with honey and cinnamon. Did women put cinnamon in tea? Eli grimaced, unable to hop on board with that concept. Darby had an actual teapot, and it was easy to assume that tea was something she took an interest in and drank often. Josie was a tea girl, and somehow he wouldn’t have put Darby into that same category. Why did he continue to think of her as being so removed from him and his realm? She was a woman, like every other. And after meeting Plushy and her ilk, he thought maybe she was better than most. He’d be hard pressed to imagine Darby scoring a date for financial gain, even if her marriage had ended up being financially convenient.

Thoughts of her marriage diverted him, while he waited for the water to boil. Was he low-key angry with her husband for taking advantage of her? Darby had been a kid, probably as beautiful as she was now. Her husband had been old enough to be her father, old enough to know that hitting on an eighteen-year-old was ten shades of wrong. And what of the mother who let her child marry an old stranger and move halfway across the country? Had anyone ever protected Darby’s interests and taken care of her? Watched out for her? Had her husband, after their marriage? Darby hadn’t hinted at any sort of abuse, but she’d also vowed off remarriage. That had to mean something, didn’t it? Unless she’d been so happy that she figured a second marriage could never top the first.

The tea whistled, startling Eli out of his deep thoughts. He had no right to think so much about her life, but it had been thrust into his with a giant spotlight on it. Here was a woman, a beautiful woman he’d previously elevated to mythic realms, believing she must have a host of men at her disposal, must be the center of popularity with her set. And instead she was completely and totally alone. Not only that, but she was suffering a serious illness that made her delusional. In reality Darby wasn’t too far removed from the impoverished and naïveteenager she’d been before she got married. Her marriage may have moved her to a different location, but she’d remained isolated and sheltered. And now Eli was left to feel guilty over his former judgement. It was likePride and Prejudice,if Elizabeth Bennet had dissociated and suffered hallucinations.

When he returned to the living room, Darby was predictably asleep. He set the tea on the coffee table and dithered. Technically, he had fulfilled his duty and was free to go. Darby was home and safe and asleep and he’d made her tea. But it was the thought of what happened after she woke that stopped him from walking out the door. What if she needed to get up and couldn’t? What if she was hungry? What if she started to wander again? Was she really cured, just because the tumor had been removed? How long would the effects take to go away? He should have gotten more clarification on that point.

She must have felt his stare, because she opened her eyes and blinked up at him. He felt caught, a little stalkerish and sheepish for lingering, but Darby solved that problem. Slowly, she eased out her hand and extended it. Was it an invitation? Was she beseeching? Pleading? Eli had no idea. All he knew was that it was impossible to leave. He took that hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it, and then sat down. Darby resettled herself and edged a little closer, resting her head on his leg.

“Your tea is ready, honey, no cinnamon,” he said.

Darby gave a contented little sigh.

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