Chapter Fourteen
“I’m so sick of the BRAT diet.” Olivia munched on a banana, her expression morose. “Why must it be so boring?”
“Because you just recovered from a horrible stomach virus and you don’t want it to flare up again.” Sammy sank onto the couch next to her with a fresh bowl of buttery popcorn, which she eyed with unconcealed envy. “Unless you like worshipping the Porcelain God.”
“The Porcelain God can kiss my ass.”
“Already has.”
He laughed when she grabbed a handful of popcorn and tossed it at him.
It was Sunday, five days since Sammy woke up and found Olivia hurling her guts out in the bathroom. The first day had been brutal—he’d had no idea someone could throw upthatmuch. Although he had a shit ton of work at the bakery, he’d stayed home to take care of her. There was no way he could leave her here, as sick as she’d been, and he didn’t know anyone else who could take over nurse duty.
Luckily, Olivia’s fever broke the third night. Today was the first day she’d spent outside her bedroom or bathroom since she contracted the VFH—Virus From Hell. Since she wasn’t operating at one hundred percent yet, Sammy had whipped up some snacks and fired up Netflix for a chill day in. Too bad she couldn’t eat anything other than the so-called BRAT diet—Bananas, Rice (white), Applesauce, and Toast (non-whole wheat)—while her stomach recovered.
For a foodie like Olivia, it was hell.
“I texted the other book club girls. None of them got a virus.” Olivia’s mouth turned down at the corners. “I don’t know what happened. My immune system is top-of-the-line. I felt a little weird at dinner but thought that was the alcohol talking.”
“You probably came into contact with someone who had it,” Sammy said. “Stomach viruses can be contagious.”
“Maybe.” Horror dawned on her face. “Wait. Does that mean you’ll get it? You’ve been in the same room as me for days!”
“Nah, I don’t have any symptoms. They usually surface one or two days after exposure. Plus, I disinfected everything and washed my hands so much they looked like an old lady’s.”
“That’s what I smelled.” Olivia sighed. “The wonderful scent of disinfectant.”
She wasn’t joking. Olivia was one of the few people Sammy knew wholikedthe scent of Lysol.
“If you do get sick, I’ll take care of you,” she said. “It’s only fair.”
“Throw in a sexy nurse uniform and we’ll be even.”
She rolled her eyes. “Seriously?”
“You get gray sweatpants, I get a nurse uniform,” Sammy half-joked. He wasn’t sure how much Olivia remembered from their weird but enjoyable conversations while she’d been sick. He also wondered whether everything she’d said had been true or if they’d been the ramblings of someone suffering from a 102-degree fever.
Olivia’s face flushed bright crimson, and Sammy hid a smile. Oh, yeah. She remembered the gray sweatpants conversation—and judging by her mortified expression, she’d been telling the truth.
Even now, his body warmed at the memory of her words. C’mon, a beautiful woman telling him his dick was distracting and she wanted to jump him? He’d have to be dead not to have a reaction. That wasn’t even taking into account her ramblings about her erotic book club read after she came home drunk—he’d had some interesting dreams about blindfolds and office sex that night.
“Sweatpants? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she bluffed, but the rapid spread of scarlet across her cheeks and down her neck gave her away. “Sweatpants are sweatpants. Nothing special about them.”
“Really?” Sammy leaned back against the couch cushions and tucked an arm behind his head, the picture of lazy confidence. “Not even when paired with a bare chest while I’m cooking?”
Olivia’s lips parted, and her eyes hazed over like she was picturing the image in her head.
Sammy’s cock jumped to attention.Fuck.He’d been teasing her; he hadn’t expected her to react likethat.Like she really was going to jump him and have her dirty way with him.
He had no issues with that whatsoever.
He set his bowl of popcorn aside. “How are you feeling?” he asked gruffly. “Got nausea or anything like that?”
She shook her head.
“Good.” Sammy cupped her chin with his thumb and forefinger.
Olivia’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?”