Название | Completely Smitten |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Сьюзен Мэллери |
Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781408953921 |
He listened to the information, swore, then hung up. Haley had stirred enough to ask what was going on.
“I have to go,” he said as he pulled on his shoes. “There’s a riot at the prison. I need to get there now.”
Haley’s blond hair had dried in spikes that stuck up all over her head. She blinked sleepily.
“A riot?”
“Yup.”
Which was exactly how his day had been going. He paused and bent long enough to scribble a number on the pad by the phone.
“This is my cell number,” he said as he straightened. “Leave me a message in the morning to let me know you’re okay. Agreed?”
She sat up and nodded. Her big eyes studied him. “I didn’t thank you for everything.”
“Thank me on the phone. I gotta run.”
Kevin was out the door before Haley could think of anything else to say. She clicked off the television, then slid over to turn out the light. His side of the bed was warm. She curled up in the dark and thought about all that had happened in the past few hours. She smiled as she realized she’d finally slept with a man. All things considered, the experience had been pretty wonderful.
Chapter Three
Haley woke with the sensation that she was late. Before her eyes had focused she was trying to figure out if it was choir practice or her morning to visit the shut-ins or—
Then she blinked and realized she didn’t recognize her bedroom.
In the split second it took to view the unfamiliar dresser, the window in the wrong place and the television, the events of the previous evening flashed through her mind like a silent music video. The montage included her entrance into the bar down the street, those scary men who had tried to get her to sit with them, and her rescue by Kevin Harmon. From there she recalled the margaritas, her reaction to the drinks and—
Here the memories got a little fuzzy. Or maybe it was just that she didn’t want to remember, because honestly, it was too embarrassing to think that she’d actually thrown herself at a man. Worse, he’d turned her down.
Haley groaned and buried her face in her pillow. The exact sequence of events wasn’t clear, but she definitely recalled something about wanting to be forbidden fruit, then having to throw up. They hardly combined to make a good first impression. And through it all, Kevin had been perfect.
She sat up suddenly and brushed her too short bangs off her forehead, then stood cautiously and waited to see what her stomach was going to do. But except for an icky taste in her mouth, she felt fine. Certainly a whole lot better than she’d felt the previous night. Lying on that bathroom floor had been the closest she’d ever come to wishing for death. At least for herself.
Okay, she thought as she crossed to the bathroom, last night had been both good and bad. The good had been meeting Kevin. He’d taken care of her, treated her wonderfully, had brought her back here and stayed to make sure she was going to survive. More than that, he’d spent the night with her.
She smiled at the memory of falling asleep in his arms. Romantic things like that didn’t happen to women like her.
She’d also found a drink she liked—although maybe two doubles were more than she could handle—and she’d actually spent time in a bar. If she kept this up, eventually she would be worldly.
Haley paused in front of the bathroom sink to pin back her hair, only to remember that she’d cut it all off on her way out of Ohio. She used a headband from her small cosmetics bag to hold her bangs off her face, then turned on the water.
The bad things about last night had been getting sick and throwing herself at a man who obviously didn’t find her attractive. As she splashed water on her face, she tried to figure out if she could have said or done something to make herself more appealing to Kevin. Was it something specifically about her, or was she not his type? Not that she knew what being someone’s type meant. She didn’t have a type that she knew of, except for “not Allan.”
She straightened and pulled the hand towel from the rack. Kevin had been nice and had stayed until he’d gotten called away. So he couldn’t have disliked her too much.
“There is no way you’re going to figure this out,” Haley told herself as she started the shower, then stripped off her nightgown. “The inner workings of the male mind are a complete mystery.”
That decided, she stepped into the warm spray and contented herself with the memory of him holding her close as they stretched out together on the bed.
Thirty minutes later Haley was dressed, packed and eating a breakfast consisting of coffee made in the in-room pot and a granola bar she’d brought with her. She would have liked something more substantial, but she hadn’t seen any fast-food places on her way into town and she hadn’t worked up the nerve to eat alone in a regular restaurant. Plus, she wasn’t sure how her stomach was going to react to a big meal just yet. Maybe it would be better to take things slow.
She sat on the bed and peeled back the wrapping on her breakfast, all the while staring at the phone number written on the small pad. Kevin’s cell number. Before he’d left he’d asked her to phone to let him know she was all right. Part of her wanted to hear his voice again, but part of her was still pretty embarrassed by everything that had happened. He’d done more than enough. She shouldn’t bother the poor man.
Indecision made her shift on the bed. As she nibbled on the bar, she reached for the television remote and clicked on the TV to distract herself. A well-dressed, thirty-something woman spoke directly to the camera.
“We’ll go to that footage in a moment. Our live shots confirm what the authorities are telling us. The prison riot seems to have ended.”
Haley stared at the screen. Prison riot? Hadn’t Kevin said something about delivering a prisoner?
“As you can see from this video taken last night, several prisoners started a riot that turned violent. There were over two dozen injuries, including at least three gunshot wounds. One U.S. Marshal was taken to a local hospital at about five this morning.”
As the woman spoke, the camera panned over heavily armed authorities trying to subdue angry prisoners. From there, the shot focused on a man on a stretcher. The camera zoomed in on his face. Haley dropped her granola bar and came as close to swearing as she ever had in her life. Despite the blood on his face and the thick, blood-soaked bandage around his leg, she recognized the man being rushed to the ambulance.
It was Kevin.
Okay, she was an idiot, Haley thought an hour later as she paced in the hospital waiting room. What had she been thinking when she’d decided to check on Kevin at the hospital? Or had she been thinking?
One second she’d been stunned by the live news report and the next she’d been loading up her car and asking the guy at the motel’s front desk how to get to the hospital. Now that she was here, what was she going to do? She didn’t know Kevin. Not really. He was a competent grown-up who didn’t need her checking on him and probably wouldn’t appreciate her visit.
She crossed to the door and nearly left, then turned back and walked the length of the room. Okay, she was here. The nurse said she could see him in a few minutes. She would go into his room, thank him for the previous night and duck out while she still had some small measure of dignity.
“Are you here to see Kevin Harmon?”
Haley turned toward the speaker and saw a nurse standing in the doorway.
“Yes.” Haley approached the woman. “Is he all right?”
“Actually he’s doing surprisingly well, for a man who was shot.” She smiled. “He’s in Room 247. Right down at the end of the hall.”
“Thanks.”