sit again by his side. She had to clear her throat twice before actual words came out rather than a raspy, self-conscious bark.
“You were a mess when you got back last night. Judging by how bad things were when you came through the door, I’m astonished that you were able to drive,” she told him hesitantly. “Do you remember anything?”
“I remember feeling like fucking shit,” he ground out. She tried not to grimace at his coarse language. “Pretty sure I puked my guts up and then face-planted after that.” Twisting slightly to place the empty beverage bottle on the nightstand he turned back toward her. “The washcloth and water container tell me you had your hands full.”
Busted, her mind screamed. Yeah, she had her hands full all right. Full of touching him, stroking that wet cloth across his torso and along his neck and shoulders. Using her greedy fingers to push his hair back off his forehead, letting them linger against the stubble on his face. She’d all but given him a complete sponge bath and would have gladly done so with her tongue and hands, a thought that exploded in her head with a shocking bang.
Her pretty blush told Cam that she was remembering using the wet cloth against his skin and try as he might to find some remnant of awareness of her administering to him, the blankness that met his attempts frustrated him greatly. He knew he’d been sick, but apparently he’d also been completely out of it. Her lovely hands had been on his skin and he couldn’t remember any of it. Fuck my life , he thought.
Hiding her expressive baby blues from him, Lacey shrugged while carefully inspecting a spot on the floor that only she could see. He waited her out and her husky response obliterated the pathetic show of nonchalance she was trying to affect.
“Your fever got quite high so I had to use wet compresses to cool you down,” she began. The emphasis she placed on having to do what she did invaded his brain. She was clearly self-conscious admitting she had touched him. This was new territory for Cam. Despite displaying a serious, kick-ass attitude toward the life she’d been handed, she was apparently off the reservation when it came to dealing with the fact that she had run her hands along his body. The lady was embarrassed.
“Thank God you knew to do that, little Ponytail,” he muttered. He didn’t want her to feel awkward with what she’d done and frankly was hoping to get her to do it all again so this time he could remember.
Lacey’s eyes instantly snapped to his while her heart leapt in her chest when she heard him call her “Ponytail”. So he had been dreaming of her in his fever. Suddenly, the world slipped a tad off center and for a few seconds she thought she might have half a swoon coming on.
Shifting his big body, Cameron ran his fingers over her knuckles. “I don’t ever remember being that kind of sick. Like, ever,” he grumbled. Laying his head back against the pillows he added, “Thanks again.”
Keeping her hands passively in her lap was costing Lacey as the thin hold she had over her composure wavered under his light touches. She was drawn to him but old, self-protective reflexes scrambled her thoughts and brought her up short. What was she supposed to do? In the end, the only thing that made sense was just to be honest and see what happened.
Remembering the fever reducer she’d given him, Lacey hastily blurted out one big long sentence. “Nothing was working and you were burning up - I remembered the first aid kit so I went through it until I found a liquid fever packet.” Glancing at the clock she assured him, “That was about four hours ago and luckily there was no adverse reaction.”
Seeing her look at the clock reminded Cam he had no idea of a timeframe for how long he’d been out of it. “What time is it now?” he asked.
“Um, well…,” she mumbled while biting her lip, “it’s just past two in the afternoon. You came back around nine-thirty last