Jillian was alone in bed when she woke up.The drawn curtains made it impossible to tell the direction of the sun.She squinted at her watch.11:30 a.m.No wonder she was starving.She’d slept through the night.
Whenever life threw her a curveball, she went into a catatonic state, shutting down mentally, emotionally, and physically.So she slept, only waking up to eat something, anything she could find that didn’t involve cooking—more often comfort foods—before crawling into bed again.The doctors had said she processed grief differently.Chris called it her zombie-state.He’d nursed her through a few.They never lasted more than a few days.
Fighting fatigue, Jillian sat up, angled her head, and listened for sounds, but the house was quiet.Lex was probably at work.Douglas?Who knew what he did when his boss was gone?Polished silver?
Even her jokes were not funny.
Jillian stood and stared at her reflection on the wall mirror.The T-shirt she’d borrowed from Lex’s closet reached her mid-thighs.It was decent enough.Besides, she was alone.She left the bedroom and padded to the kitchen.No one was there.
She was taking inventory of the fridge when sounds came from the living room.She looked up, expecting Douglas.Lex entered the room instead.He wore jeans and a polo T-shirt, his feet bare.
“You’re finally up,” he said, a smile tugging his lips.
It pained her to look at him.He looked so vibrant and gorgeous while her head was filled with wool and her mouth tasted funny.She looked like hell, too.All she wanted to do was crawl back in bed and block out the world.
She really should take this pity-fest home.No, not home.Her brothers might be camping there.She needed a hotel with a restaurant, so she could order room service from their dessert menu.
“I hope you’re hungry,” Lex continued, closing the gap between them.“I have pancakes and sandwiches.”He stopped in front of her, tilted her chin, and studied her face.“You don’t look so good.How are you feeling?”
“Great.”
Lex chuckled.“First Douglas, then you.Go to the patio.I’ll get you something to eat.Coffee?”
“Cheetos.”
He frowned.“No.”
“Ice cream?”
“Hell no.”
“Chris would get me ice cream,” she grumbled.
“Good thing I’m not Chris.”He clasped her shoulders and redirected her toward the living room.“You didn’t eat last night and missed breakfast this morning.You’ll eat something nutritious if I have to feed it to you.”
“Bully.”
He chuckled, the sexiness of the sound wasted on her.She was pissed at him.She dug her heels in.“I want to go home.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Then get me ice cream.Rocky road and mint chocolate chip.”
He gave an exasperated sound and scooped her up.Jillian grabbed his shoulders to steady herself.His warmth and scent engulfed her, making her feel safe and loved.Except he didn’t love her.What had he called her?An investment.The new name for a fake future wife.The urge to cry washed over her.She fought it.She hadn’t cried over what her father had said, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to cry over a fake boyfriend.
Why was he grinning?“I really don’t like you.”
“Then it’s a good thing I like you enough for the both of us.You’re adorable even when you’re being stubborn.”
She studied his face.He hadn’t shaved and looked extra sexy this morning.She wanted to rub her cheek against his, close her eyes, and burrow under his chin, and not think or feel or care about anything.The problem was he made her feel so much and care too much.
He left the house and placed her in a lounge chair by the pool.Still grinning, he planted a kiss on her lips.“Stay put,” he warned and disappeared inside the house.
What could she possibly do?Jump over the glass wall surrounding his pool and deck?He was taking care of her, just like Chris had done when her mother died and after her father sent her away.She’d hit rock bottom both times, just like now.
It was a beautiful day.Sunny and smog-free.On a good day, she would have appreciated it.Now, the scene with her father kept flashing in her head.The things he’d said, the delivery cold and calculated, still stung.She pressed a hand against her stomach to stop the ache.
“Here we go,” Lex said, stepping out of the house with a tray.
