“Will do.” Cane slips out.
“I hope those crackers and tea aren’t for me.”
I drop the shoe and pull the covers up. “Who else would they be for?”
“You look like a big tea drinker.” She lifts her arm and squints at me. “I bet you guzzle a gallon of tea a day.”
“Sweet tea, maybe, but this is going to be some honey and lemon.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Sounds terrible.”
“Do you want me to call anyone to let them know you’ve arrived okay?”
“Am I really okay, though? I feel like a shell of a person. The real Ladybird Rodgers is floating in space.”
I wipe a hand across my face to hide a smile. “We didn’t go up that high. Copters fly around ten thousand feet.”
“Nine thousand and ninety-nine hundred too many is what I’m hearing.”
This time my chuckle escapes.
“Are you laughing at my pitiful situation?”
“Nah, just had a tickle in my throat. Trying to dislodge it.”
“Tickle my ass,” she mutters.
Laughter threatens again. Since I’m too much of a gentleman to be laughing at a sick woman, I get up from the side of the bed. There’s a study attached to this room where I can work while Birdie sleeps off her motion sickness.
“Wait.” She grabs my arm. “Promise me that when you kick me out, I can drive back to Dallas. Hell, I’ll even walk. Just don’t make me get into that helicopter again.”
“Who says I’m kicking you out?” The words roll off my tongue easy, without even a second thought.
“When it’s time for me to leave, I mean.”
That doesn’t sound much better to me. I frown. I can’t be catching feelings for this gorgeous, funny woman. It doesn’t work that way for me. I can’t love a woman, not even a quality one like Birdie—or especially not a quality one like her. Birdie deserves a guy who will worship at her feet and ensure her a long life, not one whose focus is a multi-national corporation and who has a family curse of bringing decent women down.
“Right. I promise,” I say but I don’t even know what I’m promising at this point. Am I promising I’m not keeping her or that I am?
Keep her shouts some internal voice that I can’t be listening to, but the other voice, the rational and sane one, is dead silent.
“Thank you. I’m sorry again,” she mumbles. Her words are barely audible as sleep pulls her down.
Of its own volition, my hand descends to sweep her hair across her forehead, but before I make contact, I force myself to take a step back. This girl is not for me—not for any Justice. She might be in my bed, but it’s a temporary thing. She doesn’t belong here, not in this house or with me.
Chapter Six
Birdie
Calder is the first thing on my mind when I start to wake. I can smell him everywhere. His scent is all over this bed. I know before I even open my eyes that he’s not here. Calder has a presence about him that can’t be missed. There’s no missing when he’s in a room.
The sun peeks in from the bottom of the curtains, letting me know it’s a new day. I groan, thinking about how sick I got yesterday and how Calder had to take care of me.
He carried me around like a small doll until he put me to bed. For a big man, he was awfully gentle when it came to me. I was so sleepy that I think I passed out almost immediately. I remember him waking me at some point to force me to eat crackers and ginger ale.
I cringe when I recall pulling him into the bed to cuddle me. I think I got a bit overwhelmed with someone taking care of me. It’s not something I’m really used to. He clearly broke free from my cuddle hold at some point last night.
I stretch as I slip out of the bed and make my way toward the bathroom. This time I get to take in my surroundings. While the place screams of wealth, it’s also very manly. I open some of the drawers and quickly realize I’m in someone’s bedroom and not a guest room.
When I go into the walk-in closet, it doesn't take me long to realize whose bedroom I’m in. Or whose shirt I’ve got on as well. Oh, God. Did I throw up on myself? Did he help me change into this shirt? I don’t remember that part.
I open one of my suitcases that’s been brought into the room to grab a few things to get myself together. As much as I want to hide away in Calder’s bedroom, I should probably give it back to him. He’s been so nice already. I don’t need to wear out my welcome in less than a day.