Page 62 of Gamble
He should delete her number. Block her. Make it impossible for either of them to reach out. But he couldn’t bring himself to cut that last thread, even as each message felt like a knife twisting in his chest.
The doorbell’s chime jolted him from his brooding. Elijah started to push himself upright, then collapsed back onto the couch as fire shot through his hip and back. Whoever it was could damn well go away. He wasn’t in the mood for visitors, solicitors, or well-meaning friends who wanted to lecture him about his choices.
But then he heard the electronic beep of his security keypad being activated, followed by the distinctive sound of his front door unlocking. Only a handful of people had that code—Madison, Tyler, Jaxson, Chase, Emma, and...
“It’s just me!” Nalani’s familiar voice called out.
Elijah closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. Of all the people who could have shown up today, Nalani was perhaps the most dangerous to his carefully constructed walls of self-pity.The woman had an uncanny ability to see through his bullshit and wasn’t afraid to call him on it.
He heard the front door close, followed by the rustle of what sounded like shopping bags. Nalani’s voice carried from the foyer as she set things down.
“Don’t even think about trying to get up. I brought supplies.”
She appeared around the corner moments later, her long black hair pulled back in a ponytail and her arms full of grocery bags. At thirty-two, Nalani had evolved from the shy, young housekeeper he’d first met into a confident woman who managed the domestic side of Shane Covington’s celebrity life with impressive efficiency. When she looked at Elijah, her dark-brown eyes still held the same mixture of affection and exasperation she’d had on her last visit days before.
“You look like hell,” she announced without preamble, setting the bags down and taking in the chaos of his living room. “When was the last time you showered?”
“Nice to see you too, kiddo,” Elijah grumbled, pulling a throw pillow over his face. “Did Madison send you to check up on me?”
“Madison mentioned you were still being a stubborn ass about accepting help, but no one sent me. I came because I’m worried about you.” Nalani began unpacking the bags, revealing what looked like enough groceries for a week. “Shane left this morning to go to Vancouver for a few reshoots, so I have time to play nursemaid to grumpy old men who don’t know how to take care of themselves.”
“I’m taking care of myself just fine.”
Nalani snorted, gesturing at the disaster zone surrounding him. “This is what you call taking care of yourself? Elijah, there’s a pizza box from when I was here four days ago molding on your kitchen counter.”
“I’ve been eating,” he protested.
“Takeout and pills don’t constitute a balanced diet.” She disappeared into the kitchen, and he could hear her moving around, cleaning and organizing. “When’s your surgery scheduled?” she called.
“Sometime the week after next. Assuming the swelling goes down enough.”
“And who’s going to take care of you after?” she called from the next room.
Elijah hadn’t thought that far ahead. The idea of being even more helpless than he already was made his stomach churn. “I’ll manage.”
“Bullshit.” Nalani reappeared with a glass of water and what looked like homemade soup in a real bowl—not a takeout container. “I’m staying with you for the first few days after surgery. Don’t argue,” she added when he opened his mouth to protest. “Shane and I already discussed it. We’re not letting you go through this alone.”
The kindness in her voice made his throat tight. Nalani and Shane were busy planning their wedding, dealing with his career demands, and building their life together. The last thing they needed was to babysit a broken-down ex-stuntman who’d brought his problems on himself.
“You don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine.”
“You’ll be high on pain medication and barely able to walk. You need someone to make sure you don’t fall down the stairs or forget to eat.” She settled into the chair across from him, her expression softening. “Besides, you’ve been like a father to me. Let me return the favor.”
Like a father.
The words should have made him feel warm, grateful for the family bond they’d built over the years. Instead, they made him feel ancient. Decrepit. Exactly like the old man Reagan wasbetter off without considering the women were about the same age.
His phone buzzed again against his leg, and this time Nalani noticed him flinch.
“Your phone’s been going off constantly since I got here. Is everything okay?”
“It’s nothing,” Elijah said too quickly, reaching to silence the device.
But Nalani had always been observant, and his obvious discomfort only sharpened her attention. “That doesn’t sound like nothing. Who’s been texting you so much?”
“Just work stuff. Nothing important.”
The phone buzzed again, and Nalani’s eyes narrowed. “Elijah, Tyler’s been covering your shifts. What work emergency could?—”
