Page 106 of Roughing the Player
“Sure thing, honey.” After she brings me more tea, I mingle with some of the guests. Except for the occasional catty remark, most seem quite nice. To my surprise, I actually enjoy myself. Something I hadn’t expected. But as the afternoon progresses, I lose the fight with the heat. Pretty soon I’m looking for a place to lay down.
Sandra’s been busy with hostess duties, but somehow she notices my distress. “You looking a little peaked there, Ellie.”
I fan my face with a paper plate, but the slight breeze is nothing but hot air. “I’m afraid the sun’s getting to me.”
“Ellie?” Brock pops up by my side. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Rather than hang over me, he’d given me space, which is what I’d asked him to do. But now I desperately need his help. “I think”—I swallow hard—“I think I better go home.”
“The sun’s too much for her,” Sandra offers by way of explanation.
Feeling like I’m going to pass out, I droop against Brock’s broad chest and stumble a couple of steps. Without bothering to ask any questions, he picks me up and rushes past all the gawkers who whisper as we pass by.
“Feel better.”
“Take care.”
“Oooohhh, wish it were me.”
No, honey, you don’t. I’m about to barf.
Back home, he lays me on the couch. “Tell me what you need.” His eyes are full of worry.
“A glass of cold water would be nice. Not too cold,” I say as he heads to the kitchen. In a flash, he’s back holding a frosted mug.
“Sip it slowly. You don’t want to upset your stomach.”
“I know.” Taking small sips with rests in between, I drain the glass.
While I’m doing that, he retrieves two bed pillows and tucks them behind me. “Feeling better?”
Exhaustion’s setting in. Before I can say ‘yes,’ I drift off into a dreamless sleep where nothing can touch me. Not the sun, not Brock, not even Kaylee. Sometime later, I come awake with a jerk. No idea what woke me up. A little disoriented, I glance around to find him in the reclining chair next to me, his head leaned back, his eyes closed. He’s not sleeping. Only keeping me company.
I breathe a sigh of content. If only it could be always like this. If only we could be together. But that just can’t be. I can’t live with a man who doesn’t trust me. Who’s willing to believe the worst of me.
“What time is it?” I ask. Sunlight’s no longer streaming through the front window, so it’s got to be night.
Sitting up, he glances at his watch. “Nine-fifteen.”
I’ve slept for three hours. “Where’s Kaylee?”
“In her room. She rushed over when she heard. But when she saw you were sleeping, she headed to her room to work on some computer stuff. Want something to eat? Sandra dropped off some food.”
“Nooooo.” The mention of food turns my stomach, and I’m running for the bathroom.
A while later I emerge, weak and shaking.
He stands in the living room, fists propped on his hips. “That’s it. I’m taking you to the ER.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s just a touch of sun poisoning.” Actually, it’s a lot more than that, but I’m not sharing the real reason with him.
“You sure, Ellie?”
His concern touches me. “Yes.”
Trying hard not to jostle my innards, I creep toward the couch. Right now, that’s the best place for me.
“Wouldn’t the bed be more comfortable?”
