“Suck it up, big guy.” She tipped one pill out of the bottle and handed it to him, along with a fresh cup of water.
He swallowed the dose, glowering at her the whole time. “I hate the way they make me feel,” he said. “Like I’m not myself.”
Sam stilled for a moment. “Not yourself?”
He shrugged, wincing as the motion pulled at his injured shoulder. “You know. Hazy. Forgetful. Like big chunks of memory are missing.”
Oh my Lord. “What, exactly, seems to be missing?” Even she noticed the note of warning in her voice.
“Whoa, Sam, what’s up with you?” He placed a hand on her arm. “It’s not a big deal.”
Oh, it was a very big deal. “I’m just wondering how much you’ve forgotten.”
“Pretty much everything from bedtime until now.”
Sam snapped her mouth shut. Was it possible that he didn’t even remember the kiss? He’d started taking the medication last night. Even though the prescription dose painkiller had only mild sedative properties, combined with his concussion it could have had that effect.
A fiery blush heated her cheeks and she snatched her arm away. “You have got to be kidding me.”
He stared at her, brows furrowed. “Well, I know you woke me up a few times, but I won’t hold it against you.”
He’d forgotten. The most mind-blowing kiss of her life, and he couldn’t even remember it.
And if he couldn’t remember, did that mean she’d—taken advantage of him?
“I’m—I’m so sorry, Cody,” she stammered. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
He laughed. “That you were doing your job? Seriously, it’s not a big deal. But I have to be honest. I really didn’t enjoy having a flashlight waved in my face every three hours as you checked my pupils.”
“Of course not,” Sam muttered, mortified that he apparently had, indeed, forgotten the kiss.
Talk about the complete opposite of making a good impression.
She hadn’t made an impression at all.
Not a bad impression, thankfully, one that would be pulled out for years at “can you top this” conversational competitions. No, her kiss was so boring as to be completely unmemorable.
“I mean, you’re good at your job and all. I have no complaints about your professionalism.”
Professionalism. Right. As if she didn’t want to alternately sink into the floor and smack Cody upside the head.
“It’s clear that you’re very good at what you do, Sam.”
And no, she was now completely certain there was no double entendre in his statement.
Because no matter how much Cody praised her caretaking abilities, in the one area she’d wanted to explore with him over the years, she’d been a depressing, oatmeal-gray nothing.
As she frantically searched her brain for something, anything, to say, the phone rang.
Sam jumped a little, startled out of her pondering. She grabbed the phone off the nightstand, glad for an excuse to escape. “I’ll be right back,” she mouthed as she hurried out the door.
It was cowardly, she knew, but the thought of spending one more minute hovering over his half-naked body in a depressingly non-sexual manner was unbearable.
Especially with the memory of that kiss tormenting her.
And knowing it wasn’t tormenting him.
Sighing, she pressed the button on the phone and said hello. Maybe whoever was on the other end of the line could help her regain some equilibrium, at least until the next time she had to see Cody.
It was going to be a long couple of days.
Chapter Six
Cody watched Sam retreat, her body practically vibrating with off-the-charts tension.
What the hell was up with her?
Not only was she skittish, he had a strange feeling that there was some subtext he was missing. Like she knew something he didn’t.
What, exactly, had happened last night to freak her out like that?
Groaning, he lay back against the pillows and squeezed his eyes shut. If only he could remember…
He’d taken the medicine, which had knocked him out until the first bed check sometime in the middle of the night. She’d come in and checked him for signs of concussion, and he’d—
Oh, fuck. In a rush, it came back to him. The conversation, the heat, the impulsive kiss that quickly turned into so much more.
It hadn’t been an erotic dream after all. It had really happened.
No wonder she was jumpy around him today. He’d practically molested her in a drug-induced haze, and then forgotten about it completely.
No doubt about it. That injury had knocked his good sense clean out of him.
Either that, or he’d always been a class-A idiot.
He wasn’t sure which option was worse.
“Is he still there?”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Good morning to you, too, Mom.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes, he’s still here,” Sam said, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder as she headed back to the guest room. “He’s on bed rest for at least another day.”
Silence from the other end of the phone. Her mother was a master of the long silences.
“Mom? Are you still there?”
“Of course I am.” She clucked her tongue. “I know you think you’re doing the right thing, Samantha.”
Sam winced. After last night, that was debatable.
“But don’t you think it’s asking a bit much?”
“It’s not like that, Mom. I offered.” And even with the not-so-subtle pressure from Dr. Miller, it had been her decision.
“I just don’t like the idea of you being cooped up there all day, watching over him. You need to get out, at least for a little while.”
“Mom, that’s a great idea.” She rifled through the stack of clothes she’d hurriedly gathered from the master bedroom on Friday, right after installing Cody in it. “How soon can you be here?”
“Me? What do you need me for?”
Sam swallowed her pride and said, “I have a favor to ask.”
Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang.
“I’m here.” Her mother stood in the doorway, her purse clutched tightly to her side. “What do you need, sweetheart?”
Sam toweled off her hair, still damp from the hurried shower. “Come on in.”
Her mother followed her to the family room. “You said you needed a favor.”
“Mm-hmm.” Sam sat on the couch and gestured for her mother to take the loveseat. She waited until she was settled, and then said, “I need you to stay here for an hour or two while I run some errands.”
Her mother’s head swiveled in her direction so fast, Sam was afraid she’d given herself whiplash. “You want me to babysit?”
“I guess in a way, I do.” She gestured to the hallway that led to the bedrooms. “I don’t like leaving Cody alone, especially since he just took his medication. I’d just relax more if I knew someone was here to keep an eye on him.”
“No.”
Sam stared at her. “What?”
“I can’t. I—I have plans for the day.”
Which she hadn’t mentioned on the phone twenty minutes earlier, but that was beside the point.
“You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” She looked out the window at the backyard. It was shaping up to be another scorcher of a day. “Besides, it’s just Cody. You’ve known him forever.”
If she wasn’t mistaken, from the look on her mother’s face, that wasn’t a selling point.
Shaking away the confusing thought, she took another tack. “I really could use the help, Mom.”
Her mother looked away, her lips pinched together. Finally, she heaved a sigh. “Oh, all right.”
Sam slanted her mother a puzzled look. She knew that the rodeo was a sore spot for her mother, but this level of vehemence was unusual, even for her.
“Thanks,” she said dryly.
“I’m sorry.” Her mother leaned over and gave her a one-armed around-the-shoulder hug. “I’m a bit out of sorts today. It’s nothing personal.”
Sam smiled and held up her mug. “Coffee?” At her mother’s nod, she headed for the kitchen. “So what’s bringing you down today?”
“Oh, this and that.” She stood and followed Sam to the edge of the kitchen, taking a seat on one of the tall stools at the breakfast bar. “Actually, I’d sort of hoped you wanted to spend the day together.”
“I can’t leave Cody by himself, Mom. He had a concussion, and he’s still not in very good shape yet. Besides, I made a commitment, and I intend to honor it.”
Her mother stared at her in horror. “What kind of a commitment?”
God, Mom, get a grip.
“A commitment to monitor his recovery for the next couple of days,” Sam said, enunciating each word. “What kind of commitment were you thinking about?”
Her mother blushed. Blushed, for heaven’s sake. “Well, you did have a crush on him once upon a time,” she answered, a bit defensively.
“Am I ever going to be able to live that down?” Sam filled a wide blue mug with coffee, then doctored it with plenty of milk and sugar. “It was thirteen years ago. I was a child.”
Of course, her own bitterness toward Cody over the years might have something to do with her mother's attitude. She grimaced, then tried to hide the expression with a sip of her own coffee.
“You’re not a child anymore.” Her mother took the offered mug with a nod of thanks, blowing on it gently.
She resisted the urge to ask her mother why she kept treating her like one, then. “Don’t worry, Mom. Cody may have a head injury, but two days in my presence hasn’t made him break out the diamond ring or anything. As far as he’s concerned, I’m just the annoying person who woke him up every three hours for the past two nights to check on him.”
Which was just too bad.
No, no, no. She was not going there.
“Doesn’t he realize you’re just doing your job?”
Sam gritted her teeth and smiled. If her mother didn’t pick a side and stick with it, Sam was going to end up being the one with whiplash.
“So, where’s the houseguest?”
Sam fought the urge to roll her eyes. “In bed, Mom. He’s got at least one more day of bedrest before he can get up. And he’s more of a patient than a houseguest.”
“Well, as long as he’s not in your bed, I suppose that’s all that matters.”
Sam inspected her fingernails until she was certain her facial expression wouldn’t give her away. Technically, Cody was in her bed. But giving him the master bedroom because it was more comfortable and convenient for her convalescing guest was different than sharing that bed with him. All the hair-splitting in the world, however, didn’t negate the fact that last night she had been sorely tempted to join him. If he hadn’t been dealing with some pretty big injuries, her mom might have found the two of them under the covers this morning.
God, she’d wanted him in her bed back when she was a teenager, barely aware of the ramifications of that desire. Now, with nothing more than a little lip action, she had gotten a glimpse of what going to bed with Cody would be like.
Her body tightened at just the thought, a heavy pulse beating deep inside. Damn, but the man could kiss. And his body!
Gritting her teeth, she forced her mind to other topics. Antarctica. Automatic ice machines. The annual Polar Bear swim on New Year’s.
Her mother’s ability to read her like a big, neon sign.
Anything to get her mind out of Cody’s bed, and back on the conversation she was currently having with her mother.
Not that her mother would notice she wasn’t a hundred-percent focused. She was too busy gearing up for her favorite topic.
“I have to tell you, when I heard Cody Shaw was staying here I was more than a little concerned.” Her mother patted her hand. “But you know better than to get involved with one of those types of men.”
“Those types, Mom?” Sam was baiting her, she knew. Leanne Quincannon Alderson was notorious for her dislike of the rodeo and all things connected to it.
Come to think of it, so was Sam.
Oh, God. Somewhere along the line she had turned into her mother.
“You know.” Her mom waved a hand in the air. “Daredevil types. One of these days, Sam, I just know you’re going to settle down with some nice, responsible young man. Someone like my Fred.”
Fred was definitely a nice, responsible man. A perfect match for her risk-averse mother.
The thought of settling down with a younger version of the retired accountant—well, it made Sam want to poke her eyes out with a spork.
Which made her wonder just how immune she really was to the rodeo type.
God knew she wasn’t immune to Cody, no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise.
“Sam?” The voice was barely audible, carrying from the far side of the apartment.
She stood, placing her coffee cup on the table. “I’d better go see how he’s doing. I’ll let him know you’re filling in for an hour or two while I go run some errands.”
“I suppose I should go say hello.” Her mother stood as well.
“No, really, Mom, that’s not necessary. He might not be up to visitors.”
A look of relief flashed across her mother’s face. What the hell was that about? Shaking her head, Sam headed down the hall toward the bedroom, glad her mother wasn’t following.
She was, however, watching. As Sam stopped in front of the door to the master bedroom, her mother gasped. Sam sighed as her mother stomped down the hall to join her.
“He’s in your bedroom?” Her mother’s lips were pursed in disapproval. “Really, Sam.”
“He’s in here, I’m in the guest room.” She crossed her arms and stared her mother down. “And don’t you dare breathe a word of it to Cody.”
Her mother waited until Sam had pushed open the door to the bedroom before saying, “He doesn’t know this is your room?”
Sam closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Hey, Cody. What did you need?” She pasted a smile on her face, though she was pretty sure it wasn’t fooling either of them.
“Nothing.” He flashed a weak smile. “It’ll wait.”
“Good morning, Cody.”
“Nice to see you, Mrs. Quincannon.” Cody leaned around Sam to look at her mom, who was still standing in the doorway. “Did I just hear you say this is Sam’s room?”
So much for hoping he’d miss that little bomb.
“Oops.” Her mother looked anything but contrite. “Didn’t mean to let that slip.”
Yeah, right, Mom.
“Don’t worry about it, Cody. This made the most sense.”