“Getting there. I didn’t mean to interrupt your call.”
“We were just wrapping up.”
“Okay. Don’t you work tonight?”
“Nah.”
She scowled. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be lazing around anyway. Doctor Halseth’s orders.”
He winked. “Nice try. The second I leave, you’re going to start working on the furniture.”
Trailing her hand over his abdomen, she grinned. “Maybe.” Skimming along the waistband of his jeans, she yanked him closer.
Gulping helplessly as she found skin, dipping lower, he stilled her hand. “Dammit, Haley. We’re not having concussion sex.”
She laughed, her voice still hoarse from the nap. “I need a shower. My head still hurts. I may need help.”
The woman was relentless. “Don’t make me look like the jackass that turns down a gorgeous woman, nor the guy that takes advantage of an invalid.”
“Ouch,” she teased. “Fine. I’ll just go take my own shower and go back to sleep again.”
She pulled off the shirt and flicked it on the bedroom floor as she walked inside.
Ignoring the image of her taunting curves strutting away, he headed for the kitchen to fix an early dinner. She went quiet after her shower. Didn’t say it, but he could tell her head was throbbing and she was probably nauseous again.
Night came, and they fell asleep at sunset, rising at sunrise again. Her head was better, but still nagging. He texted Grady and had a hammock and pastries delivered within an hour.
Tearing open the bag, the contents still warm and gooey, Haley whimpered as she took a slow bite. “My favorite. Nothing like it anywhere else in the world.”
Gnawing in his gut, Finn tried to work up the nerve to say something. Every time he opened his mouth to say it, he lost the words.
While Haley took a shower, he set up the hammock between two trees at the edge of the lawn. They spent most of the day rocking, dozing, reading, chatting, or simply watching the puffy white clouds passing overhead. He doubted either of them had indulged like this in ages, and he couldn’t bring himself to ruin it.
By sunset, she was getting restless, which he took as a good sign that she was almost back to normal. Her ankle was looking much better already.
The following morning, she woke at dawn, showered, and appeared with coffees for them both as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
They snuggled up on the bed, sipping their coffee while the room brightened. “How do you feel?”
She inhaled slowly, draining the last of her coffee and setting it on the floor next to the bed. “No headache. No nausea. Ankle is still achy.”
“Good.” He grinned, setting his mug on his book that he’d dropped to the floor on his side of the bed as he fell asleep last night. He checked the wound on her head, clean and bandage free. He kissed her forehead next to the wound, moving his way down her cheek until he reached her lips. Holding back, he asked again, “What about now?”
“Better.”
He took his lips with hers, drawing back again.
“Better,” she said without prompting. “But not there yet.”
Going slow and mellow, they made love as the sun rose, the night fading away.
Limping over to her neatly stacked clothing pile along the far wall, Haley grabbed a pair of jeans and her Halseth’s t-shirt. He grinned, enjoying that she wore the shirt when she needed pick-me-up attire. Didn’t hurt that the shirt hugged all the right places.
As she pulled the snug denim over her ankle, she let out a pitiful whimper. “Okay, I should have gone with sweats or at least boot cut jeans, but it’s too late now. Ankles suck.”
“Yeah, that ankle’s going to be hurting another few days, maybe even a few weeks.” He scanned the stacks, not seeing anything of the leisure variety aside from expensive yoga pants, which wouldn’t be much kinder to the ankle. “Do you even own sweats?”
She rolled up the cuff of her jeans to take the pressure off her ankle. “No. Nate didn’t like them.”
