Page 36 of Rescued By the Operative

I don’t care that she thinks she wants sex. Something is off.

“What is going on with you?”

“I’m fine,” she says. “I just need to see a friendly face.”

“So you like my face?”

“Didn’t say that,” she says weakly.

“You’re really not OK,” I say.

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you said that.” I cradle her in my arms and set her down gently on the bed.

“You don’t need to baby me.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a really tough independent lady and you got this, blah blah blah.”

I get her prone, and immediately she rolls over and falls asleep.

And that’s that.

The poor thing is exhausted.

Chapter Fifteen

Nelly

When I wake up, Jake is there, watching me.

“I can’t tell you what an honor it is to have you here. In my house. Lying still.”

“Shut up,” I croak.

“Now, now. I’m not the best cook, but I try. I made you a sandwich and tomato soup. My Uncle Curly always made tomato soup and cheese sandwiches when I was under the weather, and it always made me feel better.”

There’s something so endearing about him.

Jake helps me sit up in the bed. Why was I so tired?

Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve been sleeping on a sagging mattress at Mary’s house? Maybe despite the fact that I’m technically fine, I’ve been through a trauma and I’m not fine?

I take a bite of the sandwich. Gooey grilled cheese, and it’s too yummy for words.

I take two bites and lie back down.

“What’s that on your stomach?” Jake asks, noticing the lump under my shirt.

“Nothing.”

“Let me see.”

“Jake.”

“Hush.”

Jake slips his hand under my shirt, and I let him. I even let myself enjoy the warmth of his skin on my skin. God, I’ve been starved of attention that has nothing to do with sex, and didn’t realize it until this moment.