Friends & Fortune Cookies: A Sudden Falls Romance (16 page)

When I woke the next time, it was morning. By the amount of light streaming in the living-room window, in direct spite of the mini blinds and sheer curtains, I guessed it was
late
morning.

I bolted to a sitting position, realizing I hadn’t called my boss to let him know I wouldn’t be coming in. Instantly, I recognized moving quickly was a bad idea and sank back down, holding a hand to my now-throbbing head and moaning piteously.

Joe, stretched out on the loveseat with his knees over the end of the arm, feet dangling, struggled to sit up. “Do you need something?”

“Work,” I said, her voice cracking. “I have to call work.” Whispering seemed to make me more understandable.

“It’s Saturday.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Incredibly weak, I was going to have to get up sooner rather than later. Nature called almost as loudly as the pounding in my head. The big question was, would I pass out before or after I took care of business?

I gauged the difference between my position on the couch and the door to the bathroom. I could make it. Some slightly delirious part of my brain took bets on the likelihood of my reaching the toilet. The odds were pretty slim.

“Need help?” Joe asked with a bit more amusement than I thought absolutely necessary. Nodding slowly, I tested my ability to sit up. A bit better than the night before. He helped me to my feet and steadied me as I shuffled across the living-room carpet.

Just last week, our roles had been reversed.

“Can you handle this on your own?” Joe asked as I wove to and fro in the bathroom doorway, the slightly pinker than usual skin across the bridge of his nose and his cheekbones a fairly good indication of his discomfort level.

I didn’t expend the energy to answer him and simply shut the door behind me. After doing what I needed to do and washing my hands, I glanced into the mirror to find a fiendish version of myself looking back. Realizing quickly, after one swipe of the brush, even my hair hurt, I gathered the scraggly ends of my ratted tresses into a sloppy knot on the top of my head.

I opened the door to find Joe, standing at the ready, waiting to help me back to the couch. He’d pulled a pillow from my bed, a warm, thick quilt from the closet in my bedroom, and placed both on the sofa.

With rather comforting attention, he helped me back down on the couch, brushed an errant strand of hair off my forehead with his blessedly cool hands, and wished me good night.

I slept.

Chapter 26 — Joe

I flopped back down on Gracie’s somewhat-less-than-roomy loveseat, struggled to manipulate my six-four frame into a semi-comfortable position, and watched her sleep.

I’d been in a blind panic when Katherine called the previous night. “Joe, I’m sure it’s nothing, but Grace asked me to call her at eight o’clock to check in because she was on a date. Now, she’s not answering. I went to the restaurant where she was supposed to go, and she wasn’t there. Then I went to her apartment and knocked on her door. She didn’t answer, and I don’t have a key.”

I was in my truck within twenty seconds. Thankfully, I still had a key to her place after staying with her.

Her car was parked in front of her building, and I’d been close to panic. In some cosmic way, I’d known
something
was wrong. Luckily, all she had was the flu or something.

Now, I was unable, or at least unwilling, to leave Gracie alone when she was this sick. But I needed to check in at the job site. I called Alex.

“Yo. Talk to me,” he answered.

“It’s Joe. I’m going to stay with Gracie today. She’s literally too sick to get out of bed.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you’re not letting her out of bed,” Alex returned suggestively.

“If only that were the case.” I wasn’t sure I liked the wistful sound of my own voice.

“No worries. I told the guys not to come in over the weekend anyway. We’ll hit it hard Monday once the flooring comes in,” Alex said. “Tell Grace I hope she feels better.”

I hung up and set the phone on the floor by my shoes and went back to watching Gracie sleep, which was a lot better than worrying about everything else that could go wrong.

She still had dark circles under her eyes, but her color seemed better, and she slept more restfully than she had the night before. Feeling greatly relieved, I punched a couch throw pillow into a more comfortable shape under my head and leaned back onto the arm of the loveseat. My left leg, still in its walking cast, perched on the on the back of the couch, and my right leg dangled to the floor.

I’d slept like this for a couple of hours the night before, but suspected I wouldn’t be going back to sleep now. My phone buzzed, and I grabbed it, expecting to see Alex’s name again.

Something twinged in my chest when I saw the caller ID.

“Hey, Brian. What’s up?”

Brian Coppersmith had been the staff sergeant during my last tour in Afghanistan. He had hauled our asses out of Hell on a number of occasions and kept us from stumbling into Hell a couple more. I literally owed him my life at least twice over, though he only claimed the second one. After a medical discharge, Brian had started a security firm.

“How’s life in boonies of Iowa?” he asked.

I laughed. “It’s Ohio, and I’m on the outskirts of Cincinnati. There are nearly two million people in a twelve-mile radius.”

“It’s not Denver. Speaking of which. When will you be back?”

“The house should be done in three weeks.” I felt my stomach sink at that. Still so much to do. “And then a week to tie up loose ends.”

“Oh.” He said it almost without any inflection whatsoever. That could have been, “Oh. I forgot you already said that.” Or “Oh! Christ Almighty! We need you before that.” Or “Oh. I feel jealous at the wonderful vacation you are having.” I looked over at Gracie snoozing away and felt pretty certain Brian wouldn’t be celebrating my continuously being shot down by
the girl that got away
.

“Can you get by without me for that long?” I asked.

“Yeah. I’ll move a couple of things around. But you’ll be back after that?”

“I said I would. I won’t let you down.”

My eyes never left Gracie’s face as she breathed evenly in her sleep.

“Good. We’ve got some fun jobs coming up.”

“Yeah? Like what?” I tried to inject some interest in my voice, but I couldn’t summon my usual level of enthusiasm for a new assignment.

“Personal security to a VIP in Bolivia for a couple of months. Another in Thailand. Security protocol testing at a top-secret lab in Reston, Virginia. And at least three different computer security jobs.”

Long ago, I would have jumped at the chance for any of them. Now, I was left with a general feeling of “eh.”

“Assign me wherever you need,” I said.

“That’s what I like about you, Baker. You’re willing to do whatever needs to be done and don’t rush for the glory jobs.”

Of course, I’d do just about anything for him. He’d saved my life on two separate occasions. If he needed my left nut, I’d give it to him—begrudgingly, of course—but I’d do it.

I heard Brian’s named yelled in the background. “Take it easy, and we’ll see you at the beginning of September. Over and out.” The line went dead before I could say anything else.

Gracie stirred.

“Hey. How’re you feeling?”

“Better, I think.” She yawned and stretched.

“Good.” She no longer looked like she was close to death, so I took that as an improvement. I handed her the can of Sprite from earlier, and she took a sip.

“Who was that on the phone?”

“Brian—my boss in Denver.”

She nodded then sat up slowly. I wondered how much of the conversation she’d heard.

“You never talk about it. Tell me what you do.”

“Brian runs a security firm. Everything from computer security, where we try to stage cyber-attacks to get into a client’s network, to personal security, where we protect business executives in less-than-friendly locales, to contracting for the military.”

“Why do you do it? Do you miss the army?”

I thought about that for a second then answered honestly. “No. Not really. I miss the guys I served with. I don’t miss getting shot at on a regular basis.”

“Is what you do dangerous?”

“Rarely. I usually get stuck babysitting VIPs. Or people who think they’re VIPs, which is worse.”

“Why do you do it then?”

“I’m good at it. It pays well. But mostly because I owe Brian my life.”

That made her pause. “Literally?”

I nodded. “One time, he was covering us from the top of a building as we were going door-to-door looking for a guy responsible for all sorts of havoc. The dude had snuck out one door and had doubled back on us. Brian took him out right before he would have mowed us all down.”

Her eyes got huge in her face. I’d never talked to her about what happened overseas. I never talked about it to anyone except, on rare occasions, the guys who’d lived it with me.

“And the other time?”

“Insurgent fighters detonated an IED under a convoy. It hit the Humvee behind us, and then they opened fire when we scrambled out to help. We got pinned down, and one of the insurgents had me in his sights. Brian tackled me and shot the guy at the same time. A move that put Hollywood action heroes to shame. He wound up with a bullet in his thigh for his trouble.”

“Was it bad?”

“Could have been worse, certainly. But he took a medical discharge to start the firm.”

“Where does that leave Alex when you go back?” she asked.

“Alex needs a good office manager. He doesn’t need me. Hopefully, we’ll get this
Rehab-a-rama
job done, and then he can afford to hire someone to manage all the details. I know he appreciates my help, but he doesn’t really need
me
.”

“And Brian does?”

“Well, there are a lot of guys who’ve come home with my skillset, but not many that Brian trusts.”

“And so you’ll go back?”

I nodded. “Yeah. After
Rehab-a-rama
, I’ll go back.”

Chapter 27 — Grace

“New relationships are kind of like being in Cuba: You’re in paradise, but surrounded by landmines.”
~ Luddite in Love: A Cautionary Tale of Dating in the Modern Age,
Grace Mendoza

There it was in black and white. Joe would leave again. And while I had known it was coming, I still felt the burn of tears at the back of my eyes and throat. It would be easy to attribute my sadness to being sick. I’m sure that wasn’t helping.

But I also suspect some secret part of my heart had hoped he’d decide to stay and maybe suddenly be what I needed. And that secret chamber of my heart just had its clock cleaned.

“Do you need anything?” Joe asked. “Something to drink or eat? Think you’re up for some toast?”

“Toast, please.” My words came out in a croak. I wasn’t blaming my rough voice on the tears clogging my eyes and throat. But I wasn’t
not
blaming that, either. “But I think I’m going to shower first.” I slowly kicked off the blankets and rose to my feet, happy that I neither passed out nor burst into tears.

While Joe went to the kitchen, I headed to the bathroom. I quickly turned on the shower to cover the sobs I could no longer stifle.

As the water cascaded over my head, washing away my tears and masking the sound of my crying, I took inventory. I still felt like I’d been run over by a herd of buffalo, but I was pretty sure my fever was gone. I no longer felt sick. Still heartsick, yes. But physically, I was on the road to recovery.

The shower went a long way toward making me feel human. My red face and puffy eyes could easily be attributed to the shower and not the crying jag. Even if it was obvious, Joe didn’t mention it when I came out.

A plate with two slices of buttered toast and a banana sat on the coffee table. A mug sat next to the plate, steam rising from the top, with a tea bag hanging over the edge. His thoughtfulness was almost enough to send me back to the bathroom for another cry, but I resisted the urge.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

I nodded and swallowed the damned lump in my throat. “Much. Thank you.”

Sitting on the loveseat, he picked up a protein bar he’d scrounged up for himself. I’d woken once to see him sprawled there the night before, limbs hanging over at uncomfortable-looking angles. His frame was at least two times as long as would be comfortable for that piece of furniture. He could have easily gone back to the guest room. For that matter, he could have gone back home once he discovered I hadn’t been kidnapped, killed, and dumped in a ditch.
(Thanks, Katie!)

But instead, he’d slept on possibly the most uncomfortable surface in my house. Just so he could help me if I needed it. I felt horrible for doubting how he’d react if the situation were reversed, like when he’d broken his ankle. He was taking better care of me than I had him. I’d gone to work while he convalesced. And, I’d gone on a date. My heart sank. I wasn’t nearly as good a friend as I had wanted to believe.

“How would you feel about a day of movies?” he asked.

“Don’t you have to go back to the job site?”

“Not today. We’re waiting on some supplies, so we’re all taking the weekend off.”

I studied his face and wondered if he was telling the truth.

“So how about it? Movie marathon? Lady’s choice. I won’t complain, even if you pick all chick flicks.”

A smile pulled at the side of my mouth. “Sure.” Picking up the toast, I took a bite. I would only have him around for another four weeks. I decided at that moment to enjoy is company and get out of my own head. Grabbing the remotes, he sat down next to me on the couch. I took a second to enjoy the warmth of his shoulder against mine before sipping my tea.

Moments later, the TV was on, and we’d found three movies we could agree on—though true to his word, he hadn’t argued with any of my choices. All three could be classified as “date-night” movies. When I finished my toast, he set the dishes in the kitchen and picked up the quilt from to lay across both of our laps and started the first movie.

How strangely intimate to be under a blanket with him. And strangely chilly in the apartment, given that it was mid-August in Ohio. Outside, it was roughly the temperature of the surface of the sun, with a humidity index not unlike that of the Amazonian jungle. I wasn’t sure but suspect he’d dropped the thermostat. I thought about calling him on it.