Hired by Her Husband. Anne McAllister
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behind them. He arched his back, almost like a cat. Then he turned in a circle and lay down next to her, so close that she could feel the press of his body through the covers.
She didn’t know if he was supposed to be on the bed or not. She didn’t care. The solid warmth of his body was comforting, reassuring. Even if he was George’s dog, she liked him. She told him so.
Gunnar twitched his ear.
Sophy smiled, gave him a pat, Then shut her eyes and very carefully and resolutely did not let herself think about George. She slept.
And dreamed about him instead.
George wanted out.
Now. This afternoon.
“You can’t keep me here,” he told Sam, who was standing beside George’s bed saying he needed to do exactly that.
Sam wasn’t listening. He knew George. They’d ridden bikes together, climbed trees together and played lacrosse together. They’d even got drunk together and pounded on each other a few times—as friends do. George hadn’t decided yet whether it was a stroke of good or bad luck that Sam had been the neurologist on duty when they brought him in last night.
He was leaning toward the latter right now as Sam was standing there with a stethoscope, looking grimly official.
“Well, no. I can’t ground you. Or tie you to the bed,” Sam agreed drily. “I did think that perhaps I could appeal to your adult common sense, but if that’s a problem…”
George bared his teeth. It made his head hurt like hell. But then so did everything else he’d done today, which was pretty much nothing. He’d tried to read and couldn’t focus. He’d tried to write and couldn’t think. He’d tried to get up and walk around, but when he did, he’d barely made it back to the bed without throwing up. If they’d let him go home, he could at least get some sleep.
“It would be different if you didn’t live alone,” Sam was saying. “Having someone who can keep an eye on you would make it more feasible.”
“Babysit me, you mean,” George grunted.
Sam grinned. “If the shoe fits…”
George glared. Sam just raised his brows, shrugged and looked back implacably.
Scowling, George folded his arms across his chest. “I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “I promise I’ll call if I think it’s worse.”
“No,” Sam said.
“I have work, a dog, a life—”
“A life?” Sam snorted at that. “I don’t think so. You teach physics, for heaven’s sake!”
It wasn’t all he’d ever done, but George didn’t go there. He just stared stonily at Sam and waited for him to give in.
“No,” Sam said. “Just because I broke your nose in sixth grade doesn’t mean I’m going to surrender my obligation as a doctor to give you my honest medical opinion.”
“The hell you did! I broke your nose!”
Sam laughed. “Well, at least your memory’s not totally shot.” He lifted a hand and rubbed it ruefully across the bump in his nose. “At least I gave you the black eye.”
“It wasn’t that black.”
“Pretty damn,” Sam said. “Anyway, we’ll talk about it tomorrow. We need to make sure the bleeding has stopped.” He nodded toward George’s head.
But George didn’t notice. His attention had been grabbed by the glimpse of someone just beyond the door. “Sophy?”
Was he seeing things? She’d gone, hadn’t she? Done her “duty” and hightailed it back to California?
But just as he thought it, she poked her head around the doorjamb. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I thought Tallie might have come back.”
Tallie? George started to shake his head, then thought better of it. “No. She went to get the boys from school. You talked to Tallie?”
Tallie certainly hadn’t mentioned it. His sister had breezed in this morning to see how he was doing. Well, breeze might not have been the right word. Waddle,
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