Lies And Lullabies: Courting the Cowboy Boss

Even in the midst of his semihallucinatory state, the feminine voice comforted him. “S’kay,” he mumbled. “I’m fine.”

Vaguely, he was aware of someone sticking something under his tongue, cursing quietly and making him drink and swallow. “You are definitely not fine.”

The angel was upset. And it was his fault. “Hold me,” he said. “I can’t get warm. And close the windows, please.”

The voice didn’t respond. Too bad. He was probably going to die and he’d never know what she looked like. Angels were girls, weren’t they? All pink and pretty with fluffy wings and red lips and curvy bodies...

Belatedly, he realized that if he survived whatever living hell had invaded his body, he might get struck dead for his sacrilegious imagination.

Suddenly, his whole world shifted from unmitigated suffering to if this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up. A body—feminine, judging by the soft breasts pressed up against his back—radiated warmth. He would have whimpered if it hadn’t been unmanly. Thank you, God.

One slender arm curved around his waist. “You’ll feel better in the morning, Case.”

The angel said it, so it must be true. Doggedly, he concentrated on the feel of his bedmate. It helped keep the pain away. Soft fingers stroked his brow. Soft arms held him tight.

Maybe he would live after all.

Seven (#u047f3563-69a3-5384-8cea-74b4d0356db5)

Case opened one eyelid and groaned when a shard of sunlight pierced his skull. Dear Jesus. If this was a hangover, he was never going to drink again. And if this was hell, he was going to beg for another chance to relive his thirty-six years and hope for a better outcome.

He moved restlessly. Even his hair follicles hurt. His chest felt as if someone had deflated his lungs. But his brain was clearer than it had been. Though he didn’t want to, he made himself open both eyes at the same time. Sitting in an armchair beside his bed was Parker Reese.

Parker hadn’t yet noticed that Case was awake. The other man was checking emails and/or texts, frowning occasionally and clicking his responses.

Case cleared his throat. “Am I at death’s door? Have you come to show me the error of my ways?”

His doctor friend sat up straight, his gaze sharpening as he turned toward the bed. “You should be so lucky. No...you’re going to be fine.” Even so, Parker’s expression held enough concern to tell Case that something serious was afoot.

“I didn’t know you made house calls.” Turned out, it even hurt to talk.

“I don’t. Here. Drink something.” Parker picked up a glass of ice water and held the straw to Case’s lips.

Case lifted his head and downed the liquid slowly, trying not to move more than necessary. “Seriously. Why are you here?”

Parker’s eyes widened, expressing incredulity. “Maybe because you’re half-dead with the flu?”

“Only half?” Case tried to joke, but it fell flat.

Parker pulled out his stethoscope, ignoring Case’s wince when the cold metal touched his skin. Listening intently as he moved the disc from side to side, Parker frowned. “We have to watch out for secondary infections, pneumonia in particular.”

“How did you know I was sick? Did I look that bad when I left the poker game last night?”

Parker sat back, his head cocked with a clinician’s focus. “Today is Saturday. The poker game was Thursday night.”

Case gaped at him. “What happened to Friday?”

This time Parker’s grin held a note of mischief that rattled Case. “You tell me. I’ve only been here twenty minutes.”

Case subsided into the warm nest of covers and searched his brain for an explanation. He remembered someone in the bed with him, but that someone definitely hadn’t been male. He’d been far too sick for any fooling around, so the woman he remembered must have been a dream.

He wet his chapped lips with his tongue. “No more jokes, Parker. Did I really lose an entire day? Surely you didn’t wait on me hand and foot. You’re a good friend, but not that good.”

Parker chuckled. “I’ll take pity on you. Yes, you lost a day. You’ve been out of it for thirty-six hours. And no. I wasn’t here to help, though I’m damned sorry about that. You picked the worst possible time to get sick. We’ve had baby after baby born at the hospital, some of them in worse shape than you, unfortunately. I haven’t even been to bed yet, but I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Then who—?”

Parker held up his hand. “Mellie Winslow showed up to work yesterday morning and found you semiconscious, burning up with fever. She stayed with you all day and all night. To be honest, you might have ended up in the hospital if it weren’t for her. You’ve had it rough.”

“Damn.” It was the best response Case could summon, and the most articulate. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he remembered someone helping him into and out of the bathroom. Mellie Winslow? Good Lord. “Where is she now?” he asked hoarsely.

“I sent her home so she could change clothes and get some rest.”

“Is she coming back?”

“I’d say that’s up to you. Mellie knows you like your privacy.”

Case winced. “Yeah, I guess she does.” He’d certainly hammered home that lesson when he hired her. “I don’t know why she stayed with me. I haven’t been exactly cordial.” In fact, he’d been a bit of a jerk the last time he saw her.

Parker shrugged. “I can hang around until midday. That gives you some time to think it over.”

* * *

By the time noon came and went, Case had managed a shower with only a little help, had consumed a modest breakfast and lunch, and had realized with no small dose of humility that he had a lot for which to be thankful. Maybe he could salve his conscience concerning Parker by writing another large check to the hospital. Parker got absolutely giddy when he talked about upgrading technology in the NICU.

But what about Mellie?

Parker was on the way out the door when his phone dinged. Case saw his buddy glance down and then look at him.

“What?” Case asked. “Who is it?”

“Mellie wants to know if she needs to come back. What should I tell her?” There was no judgment in Parker’s steady gaze.

“I barely know her,” Case muttered. “She’s not under any obligation to take care of me.”

“She’s a nice woman. You could do worse.”

“Nathan says Amanda will hunt me down and neuter me if I trifle with her friend.”

“Trifle?”

“You know. Play around with her.”

Parker shook his head in disgust. “I know what the word means. Are you tempted to trifle?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. She’s seen me at my worst.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”