A knock on my door pulls me from my sleep. I wipe at the corner of my mouth, finding drool all over my chin. I took NyQuil late last night after I couldn’t get to sleep from my head feeling so full, and apparently, it really knocked me out. I have no idea what time it is.
Reaching for my phone on my nightstand, I find it dead, not helping me to figure out what time it is. It’s late enough in the morning that the sun fully beats through my bedroom curtains.
I rub at my eyes, wondering if I’d dreamed the loud knocking sound when I hear it again. Groaning, I rub my eyes again, trying to adjust to the light that pours in. I slide off the bed and slip my feet into my favorite pair of slippers. Kitty’s tail thumps enthusiastically at the end of the bed, clearly unfazed by whoever is at the door. I look down at my outfit, forgetting what I went to sleep in last night. I should probably change before answering the door in an old sweatshirt and only a pair of underwear underneath, but the sweatshirt is long enough that I should be good. I don’t plan on chatting long with whomever is on the other side of the door.
I’m expecting to find my neighbor Francine. Sometimes she pops by to give me fresh eggs from her chickens. She also enjoys watching Kitty for me when I need help or feel like Kitty needs extra attention. Sometimes she even stops by to ask if she can take Kitty for a walk. Because of that, I swing the door open without looking through the window.
Francine isn’t standing on my doormat. Instead, I come face-to-face with a smirking Camden. My mind immediately goes to the time his full lips were covered with me the other night.
“Camden?” I look over his shoulder to see if anyone is with him or if he’s alone.
He takes a step toward me, pushing a Wake and Bake coffee between us. “I heard you weren’t feeling well, so I brought you this.”
Why does he have to look so good? My hair has to be a rat’s nest, and there’s a good chance there’s drool drying on my chin as he stands in front of me dressed like he could grace the cover of a business magazine while I look like Gollum from Lord of the Rings.
“You brought me coffee?” I ask slowly.
He holds up his own cup. “No, I brought myself coffee. I brought you some sort of special drink from your cafe that is good when you’re sick.”
My heart squeezes in my chest that he remembered about the drink. It wasn’t something I’d expected him to think twice about.
He pushes the drink out a little further, gesturing for me to take it. “Is that okay? I can go back if you want something different.”
I prop a hip against my doorframe as I take the drink from him. I tentatively take a sip, savoring how the warm liquid soothes my throat. “It’s perfect,” I mutter.
He swallows, stuffing his free hand in his pocket. I fight a smile as he uncomfortably shifts from one foot to the next, not knowing what to do.
“I’d offer for you to come in, but I don’t want to get you sick.”
“My tongue was down your throat—among other places—just a couple of days ago. I’ll risk it.”
I’m staring at him in disbelief as he shoves his way into my house, not bothering to wait for an invitation.
Kitty wags her tail enthusiastically as she weaves between his legs. She’s a terrible guard dog.
“Kitty, attack,” I instruct, pointing my finger at her.
She doesn’t even look at me, too content at getting back scratches from Camden to follow directions.
“That’s a good girl,” Camden coos, bending down to pet Kitty’s stomach as she rolls over for him.
I try not to react, my mind remembering when he was calling me a good girl for very different reasons.
“You’re cute but useless,” I scold Kitty, trying not to laugh at her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth.
She’s in heaven. Camden takes me off guard with how sweet he is with her.
My hands find my hips. “You didn’t strike me as a dog person.”
He gives her attention for a few more seconds before he stands back up, earning a dissatisfied sigh from her. “And why’s that?” he asks.
“Well, for starters, you’re extremely uptight.”
“So because I’m uptight, I don’t like dogs?”
I shrug. “Dogs are messy. You don’t seem to like messy.”
Camden holds my stare, the two of us standing across from one another in my entryway. I’m about to say something else to fill the silence when he opens his mouth. “Maybe I’m starting to like things a bit messy.”
Our gazes stay locked, and the only sound is Kitty’s paws moving over the hardwood as she tries to get Camden’s attention.
His eyes move from mine, but they stay on my body, taking their time raking over my bare legs. I cross my ankles, becoming aware of how little the oversized hoodie hides.
“How are you feeling?”
I run my fingers through my hair, the thought just occurring to me how rough I must look. I’d taken a shower with the little bit of energy I had but hadn’t taken the time to blow-dry my hair. I fell asleep with it soaking wet, and I don’t have to look in a mirror to know it’s probably a tangled mess.
Taking me by surprise, he takes a step closer and presses his palm to my forehead. His hand feels cold against my skin. When he slides it down my face and presses it to my cheek, I can’t help but lean into the feeling of his cool skin against mine.
“You’re warm,” he clips, his voice gruff. He sounds upset. Like he’s angry that I’m running a fever.
“I probably need to take more meds,” I offer, walking toward my room.
My eyes scan my place. It’s kind of a mess right now because I haven’t had the energy to clean up. My shoes are haphazardly strewn through the hallway. I have to step around a pair of heels before I fall flat on my face over them.
I want to apologize for how messy things are, but I’m focused on his words from moments ago. What did he mean by them? There was a hidden meaning behind his words, and I can’t help but wonder—maybe even hope—that his comment has something to do with me. Compared to his pristine life, I’m chaotically messy. But I like that about myself—and now I’m left wondering if he’s starting to appreciate that about me.
“This wasn’t the way I first envisioned you in my room,” I joke, walking to my nightstand. There are four different kinds of medications lined across the top. I inspect them, deciding which one I want to take. As tired as I am, I’m going to pass on the NyQuil since it’s morning and I’d like to be awake for some of the day at least.
Camden grabs my ruffled comforter, holding it up and nodding toward it. “Get in,” he demands, his voice stern, making me break out in goose bumps despite my feverish skin.
“Now demanding me to get in bed? Is this why you came today, Camden?”
His lips press into a thin line. He’s clearly not amused by my taunting. “You can get in bed, or I can pick you up and throw you in bed. Either way, you’ll give your body the rest it deserves.”
I stare at him wide-eyed. Why does he have to be so hot when he’s bossing me around?
I tell myself I only listen because my body aches, and I’m starting to feel a little light-headed from moving around. I climb in between the sheets, trying not to let out a satisfied sigh when he begins to tuck my blankets in around me.
“You don’t have to do this.” My eyes stay trained on him as he reads the labels of each of the medicines on my nightstand.
“I don’t have to do what?” His eyes don’t move from inspecting each label.
“Come over and take care of me because I’m sick.”
Camden pins me with a stare, a slight smirk to his lips. His large hands grip one of the pill bottles as he shakes his head at me. “If you haven’t learned this already, I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. I heard you were sick, and I wanted to be here.” He pops the lid off and empties a couple of the pills into his large palm. He holds it out, wagging his fingers at me. “Take these.”
“What if you’re poisoning me?”
He rolls his eyes. “You saw me take them out of the bottle. Open your mouth.”
The look on his face leaves no room for argument. My mouth parts, my tongue peeking out to take the pills. He places them on my tongue, handing over my water from the nightstand.
“Swallow,” he commands. And I do, my body heating even more from the way he looks at me. It wasn’t long ago he was telling me the same thing, and I did exactly as I was told, just like I am now. His mind must be going to the same place because his eyelids get heavy.
“Now, drink some more water and lay down. I’m going to go grab the food I brought. I forgot it in the car.”
I watch his tall, athletic body storm out of the open doorway, giving me time to appreciate him from the back. He’s dressed as if he could have a meeting at any moment—while I don’t even have on pants because I was so tired when I got out of the shower last night—and I miss his cocky smirk the moment he walks out the door.
I stare at the empty doorway for a few moments before I take a few more gulps of water. Kitty whines from her dog bed, making me apparently not the only one missing Camden.
When he comes back in, he’s carrying food from the bakery. He hands it to me, and I can’t hide the smile when I look inside. “My favorite.”
I take a bite of the pastry, my eyes closing because I hadn’t realized how starved I’d been.
Camden watches me scarf the food down, taking the trash from me and setting it down on the nightstand as soon as I’m done. We stare at each other for a few moments before he sighs.
“Scoot over. I’m going to lay with you to make sure nothing happens.”
“I’ve got a fever. What do you think is going to happen to me?”
He doesn’t wait for permission. His long legs are pushing against mine as he forces his way into my bed.
“Camden!” I scold, shoving against his hip. “This is my bed and my sick day. You can’t just barge in.”
“Sure I can.” He slides an arm underneath my body, pulling me into his chest. The movement stuns me.
I’m pretty sure Camden Hunter is cuddling me. And I’m fairly confident I love it.
“Any more arguments?” he quips, reaching across the bed for the discarded remote. He begins to flip through Netflix as I stare up at him, my cheek still pressed into his chest.
“Uh…” I don’t know what to say. I like feeling his body pressed against mine. I like the comforting way his fingers play with my hair. It’s tender, making my heart leap inside my chest. I don’t know if he even realizes he’s doing it.
His chest rises and falls with a deep breath, moving me with it. “Look, shortcake. I think you and I are a lot alike in some ways when it comes to the way we run our businesses. I know you must’ve felt terrible to take a day off work, so just let me stay here and take care of you, okay? Please?”
All I can do is nod because the emotion clogging my throat is overwhelming. His words mean too much to me, and it terrifies me.
I think between all of the arguments, I’ve started to develop feelings for him. At first, I thought it was sexual attraction, but there’s nothing sexual happening between us right now, and he has my pulse racing.
Before I can think too much into it, my eyes flutter shut as I fall into the best sleep of my life—nestling deeper into the chest of a man I have no business developing feelings for.
