Connor snapped his head up. The line of people had disappeared, and the woman at the desk held out her hand for the forms.
“Sir, are you all right?”
He was fully aware of the burning sensation of his eye rims, but he blinked it away and handed off the clipboard. “Yeah. I think the pollen’s high today.”
The woman glanced at the forms and then looked past him at Liza. “We’ll have her back really quick, okay?”
He nodded and turned to head back to his chair.
Liza was now curled up like a kitten across two chairs with her arms pulled close to her chest, the sleeves of her shirt tugged down to cover her hands in makeshift mittens. The sight of her was suddenly the sweetest, most heartbreaking thing he’d ever seen. Connor sat down next to where her head rested on a chair and placed his hand on her arm. The contact briefly roused her, and she lifted her head, shifting and sliding toward him as she attempted to use his thigh as a pillow.
The hard chairs seemed like the least comfortable place imaginable for a sick person to lie down, so he slid his hands under her arms and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close; how he wished he’d been able to hold her in the aftermath of her various tumultuous incidents. Liza gave another tiny snort and snore before she nestled her hot cheek against his chest.
The heat of her feverish body caused him to break into a sweat while she shivered and quietly whimpered pained moans that he knew were a result of the sickness-induced ache of her bones. Despite the tremors and murmurs, Connor knew she was fast asleep and couldn’t hear him, but the whispered pleading slipped from his lips anyway.
“What happened to you, sweetheart? What the hell happened? I wish I had been there. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I’m so sorry for everything.”
16
Irish Channel, New Orleans
Liza woke in a twisted tangle of sheets, feeling so weak she could barely lift her arm to grab her phone and check the time. Completely disoriented, she could see from the light pouring in through the lace curtains that it was late in the day, and her chest tightened with panic.
Sheneveroverslept. Even though Jimmy wasn’t exactly the type of boss to care if anyone showed up late, Liza made it a personal habit to be at work andactuallyworking by 8:30.
Wait. No.
She had talked to Jimmy on Sunday when it was clear the fever wasn’t going away yet, and she requested to take the day off. Relief spread through her, and she sank back into the pillow with the intention to go back to sleep but was assaulted by a sensation of body aches and being freezing. She uttered a groan through chattering teeth, and she must’ve still had a touch of fever. She glanced at the nightstand. Where had she left the thermometer? Where had she been when she called Jimmy?
Surrendering to the defeat of not being able to remember either and feeling utterly drained, Liza closed her eyes and wrapped the blankets tightly around her. Besides, it was pointless to know exactly what her temperature was since it was obviously still high.
A quiet series of taps on the bedroom door caused her eyelids to snap open, and her heart jumped into her throat.
Who the hell was in her house?
She squinted as fuzzy puzzle pieces from the past couple of days fell together in her brain.
It had to be Brennan. He’d brought her home on Friday, helped her inside, and made sure she was set up with water, medicine, and the thermometer before he left.
But that wasFriday. On Saturday, she’d slept all day and replied to one text message from him, letting him know she was okay and just resting. On Sunday, she’d texted him again saying she told Jimmy she’d be taking Monday off. He’d asked if she needed anything, and she’d said no. Had he come by again, and she just forgot?
Whoelsecould it be?
“Liza?”
Thatwas not Brennan.
Her hearing was a bit fuzzy, and there was a subtle ringing in her ears, but she knewthat voicein the depths of her soul.
It was Connor.
She crinkled her brow. She couldn’t remember talking to him after Friday or letting him in, sowhat elsedid she not remember?
Liza tugged the sheets over her chest and sat up, leaning against the headboard and pulling her knees close to her chest. “Come in.”
Pushing the door open, Connor poked his head around it and glanced at her, then offered a quick, closed-mouth smile. “You look a lot better.”
“I lookbetter?” Her eyes shifted. “What are you doing here?”
