I have to admit, it sure is nice to be taken care of by a man. I would expect a guy like Joey to slay dragons for me. Bully the tow truck driver, sure. Intimidate my date who won’t take a hint.
But this? This nurturing, caretaking side of him?
It’s downright swoony. I haven’t had a guy like him in my life before, and it’s deeply settling. Once more, he conveys that sense of home.
When Joey climbs behind the wheel, I say, “You don’t have to do this, Joey.”
“The fuck I don’t. You’re my girl. I’m gonna take care of you when you’re sick.”
My eyes burn.
Joey drives to a drug store and picks up crackers, canned soup, ginger ale and Pepto Bismol. Then he drives me home.
He opens the door with my key. “I’m making a copy of this key,” he tells me.
“That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think?” I’m teasing, though. I’m starting to love the fact that Joey has wormed his way into my life.
“I’m looking after you, and I need a key.”
“Do you ever stop pushing, bossman?”
He shakes his head and leads me to the bedroom. “You get in bed. You want the ginger ale? Or how about some tea?”
This guy. “Tea would be great. It’s in the second drawer next to the refrigerator.”
“Which kind?”
“Ginger, please.” I collapse on the bed.
I can't believe Joey LaTorre is tucking me in bed and making me tea. Why? It doesn’t make sense.
He returns with a steaming mug of ginger tea. “Here you go, I put a little honey in it.”
“Mmm, thank you.” The tea settles my queasiness.
He kicks off his shoes and settles next to me on the bed, opening my appointment calendar on my tablet and pulling out his cell phone.
“I can do it.” I reach for them.
He pulls them out of my reach. “Clearly you need a little help.”
I chew a fingernail, nervous he might be too curt or say something rude to my client.
“Hello, Darla? Yes, I’m calling for Sophie Palazzo. She’s feeling under the weather, so I’m canceling her appointments...Yes, she wouldn’t want you to catch it… of course, of course. I can reschedule you for next week.” He scrolls through the appointments on the tablet to the following week. “How about next week at the same time? Okay, great. I have you down. Thank you.”
I stare at him. Pretty sure my jaw’s hanging open. He grins. “You didn’t think I had it in me, did you?”
There he goes, calling me on my prejudice again.
“I could call her back and tell her she’d better book with you every week, or I’ll slash her tires.”
I smack him with the back of my hand, smiling ruefully. “I just never expected you to play secretary.”
“I prefer to think of myself as your ‘handler.’” He straightens his collar.
I laugh, which makes me clutch my queasy stomach.
“I’m canceling tomorrow’s appointments, too.”