Page 83 of Good Girls Don't Kiss and Tell (Rock Canyon, Idaho 7)

She sat up and took the pills, downing half the glass. “Thanks.”

“All right, I’ll let you rest. If you need anything, I’ll be in the living room. Just tell Fuzz, and he’ll come get me,” Eric joked, noting his new dog seemed quite taken with Gracie.

“Actually, do you mind just hanging in here? I hate being alone when I’m sick.”

There was no way he could say no to her when she sounded so pitiful, not that he really wanted to. “Sure. Why don’t I put in one of these chick movies before I change my mind and make a run for it.”

Gracie nodded, and he helped her get under the blankets. After he put the movie in, he crawled in the other side. When she snuggled up to his side, he pulled her against him.

“I don’t want to get you sick.”

He took the hand she’d rested on his chest, running his thumb over her palm. “I guess you’ll have to come over and take care of me, then.”

“Deal. I’ll even rent all the Die Hard movies, and we’ll marathon it up.”

“Gracie Lou, you are the perfect woman.” Eric wasn’t even surprised that he meant every word. Everything about her drove him crazy, but when it came down to imagining his future, Gracie was in it.

But he didn’t say any of this to Gracie as they lay in his bed and watched Emma Stone come onto the TV screen. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off again.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Jealousy is an ugly emotion, but all too human.” - Miss Know-It-All’s Gossip Column.

Eric didn’t get sick, but Gracie stayed at his place through Friday, when her fever finally broke. She’d been heartbroken to miss Christmas with her parents and delivering Santa gifts to Margaret for Pip, so Eric had done it for her. He’d even wrapped them in the special parchment paper and ribbons she’d bought. She’d been half-asleep when he’d told her he was leaving to deliver them, but he’d taken pictures as proof.

Eric knew she’d gotten up this morning to check on The Local Bean and see her parents, but he was hoping she was coming back to his place after. He couldn’t help checking his phone between drink orders, hoping he’d find a text from her.

It was almost last call, and still nothing. He shouldn’t be disappointed; just because he’d taken care of her this week didn’t mean that she wanted to pick up where they’d left off.

“Hey, Eric, can I get a lemon drop?”

Eric turned to Kirsten’s feline smile. “Yeah, coming up.” He mixed it quickly and when he handed it to her, she asked, “So did you and Gracie break up? I thought I read something in Small Town Scandals about the two of you—”

“No, we didn’t.”

“Huh. My mistake. I saw her car parked outside Mike Stevens’s house tonight. Figured maybe those two had finally connected after all these years. But good for you for sticking it out.” She did a little finger wave and walked back to her table.

Eric gritted his teeth, cursing himself for letting her get to him. Gracie and Mike had both told him they didn’t feel anything more than friendship. He had no reason to be jealous. Kirsten was just being a bitch.

Then why hasn’t she texted you all day if things are better between you?

Little needles of doubt wiggled through his brain the rest of the night, and he tried not to think about it, tried not to let his imagination go crazy. He texted her as he was walking out the door.

On my way home. You staying at your place tonight?

He got into his car and drove, waiting for the notification ding that never came. He was getting agitated, especially when he drove by her place and didn’t see her car. The crazy part of his brain told him to drive by Mike’s house, but the not-a-jealous-bastard side went straight home instead.

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When he pulled into the drive, Gracie’s car was parked in front, and his heart thumped in relief. He got out and moved quickly into the house, feeling like the world’s biggest asshole for checking up on her.

She was curled up on his couch asleep, the TV on one of the movie channels. Fuzz was sleeping across her legs, his chin resting on her butt. Eric peeked over at her, wrapped up in a blanket and his T-shirt. She was the best thing in the world he could possibly come home to. He reached down and rubbed Fuzz’s head until the dog jumped down.

Eric came around the front of the couch and lifted her slowly into his arms. He was always amazed at how small she was, how light and delicate. She was such a pistol that most of the time, she seemed larger than life.

She snuggled into his chest and whispered drowsily, “You’re home.”

Damn, but he liked the way she said that. “Yeah, baby, I’m home.”

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