Free Deadly Deception by Alexa Grace Page B

home."  He braced her with his arm around her waist and half-walked, half-carried her out of the bar to his SUV.
     
     
     
    Lane pulled his SUV up to Frankie's house and turned off the ignition.  She was slumped in the passenger seat like her bones were made of jello.  She was giggly, and kept mumbling something about feeling dizzy.  He sighed, shook his head, and got out of the vehicle.
     
    When he opened the passenger door, she almost tumbled out.  He caught her before she slammed to the ground and held her upright.  She kept swaying so he gripped her waist to stabilize her.
     
    She snaked her arms around his neck and whispered, "Lane, you make me so hot."
     
    He held her away and silently wished she was sober and that she meant that last statement.  He led her to her house, again half-walking and half-carrying her as she giggled.
     
    They were almost to the porch when she stopped and mumbled something.
     
    "Frankie, what did you say?"
     
    "I feel sick."  At that, she projectile vomited looking a little like the possessed girl in The Exorcist, only this wasn't pea soup.  He stared in shock as it shot down the front of his jeans.  He quickly turned her around and held her as she bent down to throw up some more in the bushes. 
     
    "I'm so sick."  She moaned.
     
    Lane backed her to the SUV so he could open the back to get a towel. There was no way he was going to track in Frankie’s house what covered his jeans.  He braced her against the vehicle with one hand and wiped his jeans with the other.  Deciding he'd done all he could do as far as far as the pants were concerned, he swept her into his arms and ran toward the house before she could get sick again. 
     
    He propped her up against the house while he rummaged through her purse for her house keys.  Finding them, Lane unlocked the house, carried her in, and slammed the door shut with his foot.  He flipped the switch for the lights, then rushed her into the bathroom and placed her sitting in front of the toilet.  Watching her to make sure she was going to stay upright, Lane pulled off his boots, his gun and holster, and then stripped off his jeans down to his boxer shorts.  Lane placed his gun along with the holster in her bedroom on a dresser.  His tie and shirt ended up in a pile atop his jeans in the hallway. He searched through the bathroom drawers looking for a washcloth.  Finding a fluffy blue one, he held it in the sink and soaked it with cold water.
     
    Lowering himself so he was sitting behind Frankie, he pulled her gently against him and removed the black leather jacket she was wearing.  He tossed it behind him then placed the cold cloth on her forehead. 
     
    "Why won't the room stop spinning?"  Frankie asked as she leaned against him. 
     
    "It'll stop soon.  I promise.  Do you want a glass of water or anything?"  He kissed the top of her head and felt her move her hands to his thighs to steady herself.
     
    "Yes."
     
    He got up, grabbed his clothes from the hallway floor, and made his way to the kitchen.  Finding a washer and dryer in an alcove off the kitchen, he popped his clothes in a warm wash and walked back into the kitchen.  He washed his hands in the sink, then found a glass, filled it with ice cubes, and cold water from the refrigerator.  He trekked back to the bathroom.  She wasn't there.  He went to her bedroom.  Hugging the left side of the bed lay Frankie sound asleep.  He tiptoed around the bed and placed the glass of water on her nightstand. 
     
    He got as far as the living room when he stopped himself.  There was no way he could get his large frame in a comfortable position on her small sofa.  The floor wasn't appealing for sleeping either.
     
    What if she got sick again?  What if he was in the living room and didn't hear her?  He went back to her bedroom and stood at the door.  He'd sleep in Frankie's bed tonight but as far away from her on the bed as possible.  As much as he wanted to be