Free Cabin Fever by Alisha Rai

reply was automatic, but as he took stock of his body he realized that he did feel better. When he’d gotten shot last year, it had taken him almost two weeks to feel as great as he did today, just a few short days after he’d sustained a far more serious injury.
    She left the room, and he did his best to think of as many unarousing thoughts as he could manage to cool his amorous body off. By the time he started reciting baseball stats for the Yankees, he knew he would be able to at least speak to her without embarrassing himself.
    When she returned to the room, dressed in her faded jeans and a pink long-sleeved shirt, he had himself under control. Thank the good Lord, since she immediately tried to help him with his embarrassing morning rituals. “I can walk today, I think.” Anything to get away from the bedpan.
    “That’s nice that you think that. You won’t be doing it, though.”
    He groaned. “Please, Genevieve.”
    She eyed him critically. “Two more days before you’re up and about. And if you complain anymore, I’ll make it three.”
    “These are not the kind of orders I like to take in bed, chica .”
    A warm flush filled her face, but then she delighted him by retorting, “I don’t see you taking any kind of orders in bed.”
    He grinned, a slow smile of intent. Ahh, yes, if she trusted him enough to flirt with him, he was a happy man. He’d never been much of a flirt, but he liked their banter, and sexual innuendos were tripping off his tongue around her. “You’re right. I’m usually on top.”
    “Don’t be crude.” She didn’t look insulted, though, just a very flushed armful. A militant look entered her eyes. “Bedpan, with me in the room or without. Your choice.”
    Since she wouldn’t be budged, he gave in with a grumble and took care of his needs once she left the room.
    When that chore was over, they enjoyed breakfast. Or rather, she enjoyed breakfast, and he choked down pasty gruel. “I’m vowing to you right now, when I get better, I’m cooking for you, and you’re going to eat it. Everything I make is terrible, so we’ll be even.”
    She didn’t respond. She just crunched into her piece of toast, slathered with butter, and licked her shiny lips.
    He made a woeful noise and she snickered. Genevieve had no idea he was reacting to her pretty lips instead of the toast.
    As she cleaned up from breakfast, he tried to find a comfortable position, but each way he turned either made him more twitchy or hurt his shoulder.
    “Stop squirming. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
    “Men don’t squirm. I’m itchy.” He rubbed at his bandage.
    “Don’t touch that.”
    He dropped his hand to his lap. “Distract me then.”
    She blinked. “How?”
    Strip naked. “What do you do for entertainment?”
    “Entertainment?”
    “Yeah. You know, that stuff that unpractical people do?”
    “Impractical.”
    “Just a little, but I am a responsible guy.”
    “No. The word. It’s not unpractical. It’s impractical.”
    “Hey. You cook like the nuns at elementary school and you correct grammar like them too.” Alex gave her a slow grin. “If you’d been my teacher though, I would have definitely paid more attention.”
    She fought it, but he noted with satisfaction the instant her smile got the best of her. “Give me a break.”
    “So what do you do?”
    “There’s always plenty to do on a small farm.”
    “But that’s work. We’re talking fun.”
    “I knit.”
    That surprised him. She was so pragmatic and no-nonsense, knitting seemed almost too soft. “That’s cool. What do you make?”
    “Blankets. Socks. I crochet a bit. Sell the stuff down at this tourist-trap store in Newbury.”
    He resisted the urge to smile. Of course Genevieve would make crafts practical. “My mom’s a seamstress. She loves that stuff. You must have fun with that.”
    “It brings in some cash.” Her tone was indifferent, as if she could take it or leave it.
    “What else?”
    She hesitated.