Page 43 of Sweet Christmas Wish
“Oops.” She laughed, her voice slurring a little. “Silly me. Silly, silly Sarahhhh.”
Will paused, taking her in. She looked gorgeous—her hair was loose for once, falling below her shoulders in soft curls and her makeup accentuated her huge brown eyes. That wasn’t the only thing he noticed, though. She was still giggling at her near fall, and she was listing slightly to the side, as though she might fall again at any moment. He hurried over to her, a little confused. Why was she acting so strange?
“Let’s get you off that stool,” he said, helping her down.
“My hero,” she crooned, throwing her arms around his neck and collapsing against him.
“I mean, I just helped you off a stool,” he pointed out, gently detaching her arms from around his neck so that he could look into her eyes.
He noticed with a start that they were somewhat glazed over, like she wasn’t seeing things entirely clearly. She swayed a little as she stared up at his eyes, transfixed, and hiccupped a little.
“You have very pretty eyes,” she slurred. “So blue. Blue, blue, blue,” she continued, tapping him lightly on the nose. “I get lost in your eyes, pretty man.”
By now, Will was almost completely certain that Sarah was drunk. All the signs were there, from the slurred speech and strange actions to the way she couldn’t quite stand steady on her feet.
“Sarah,” he said gently. “Have you been drinking?”
“No, sir,” she mumbled, drawing herself up as straight as she could and almost falling over again. “I drank the coffee you left on the counter.” She licked her lips at the memory. “It was so good. Sooooo good. You make—” she hiccupped “—the best coffee in the whole worrrrrrrld.” She finished her sentence by sneezing, hard, three times in succession and then coughing a little.
It was like a lightbulb went off for Will and he finally pieced together the puzzle before him. He’d left an Irish coffee on the bar, which he’d only had time to take a sip of—hence Sarah being tipsy.
The sneezing and the cough? She was clearly fighting a cold and if he were a betting man, he would say she had taken strong cold medicine. That medicine mixed with an Irish coffee was a recipe for one very drunk and very out of it Sarah Langston.
Sarah swayed toward him and he caught her as she collapsed in his arms again. She leaned her head against his chest, sighing.
“My head feels funny,” she mumbled, her speech thick. “Why does my head feel funny?”
“Probably because you need to sleep,” he replied, holding back a laugh. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs.”
“Noooo,” Sarah fought back weakly. “We have a date!”
“I know, but we can reschedule,” he said gently. “I promise we’ll go out to dinner another time.”
“Promise?”
“Promise. Look, I’ll even pinky swear.”
They hooked pinkies, Sarah’s weaving a little, and then he took her gently under his arm and guided her toward the stairs that led to her apartment. She leaned against him heavily, her steps unsteady. At the top of the stairs, he asked for her keys, and she dug them from her pocket, accidentally dropping them on the ground.
“Whoops! Silly me,” she said in a singsong voice as Will stooped to pick them up.
“Silly you.” He chuckled, unlocking the front door.
Inside, he guided her down the hallway to the one bedroom and helped her take off her shoes and lower herself onto the bed. Her eyes were already drifting shut as he arranged the covers over her and smoothed her hair off her forehead.
“Sleep well,” he whispered, but she didn’t hear him, already well on her way into a deep sleep.
Tiptoeing out of the room, he pulled the door shut behind him and left her keys on the kitchen counter. Locking the door from the inside and then pulling it shut behind him, he trotted down the stairs. As he walked, he thought about what had just happened and he couldn’t help but grin a little. As much as he’d been looking forward to their dinner date, this was kind of a funny mishap. She’d looked so adorable and so lost when he’d come in, all flirty and drunk.
I’ve certainly seen a lot of different sides to Sarah Langston since I arrived,he thought, stepping outside into the cold.I wonder what else I’m going to find.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
Waking up the next morning was like swimming up, up, up from the depths of a deep pool. Sarah groaned, her eyelids feeling leaden and heavy.
With all her might, she turned over onto her side and cracked open one eyelid, wincing when the morning sun sliced her vision. She squeezed her eye shut again, pulling the covers up higher around her chin and snuggling into the bed. She usually loved sunshine, but not when it stabbed her in the eye like that.
Darn sun, she thought, a trifle incoherently. She was still groggy with sleep, not fully aware of her surroundings.
