Bad Company (Avery's Crossing: Gage and Nova Book 1) Read online

  Apparently he wanted to spend as little time with me as possible. Well, too bad. By virtue of floating up on my part of the river bank, he was now my patient and he was going to have to put up with me.

  I followed him. He shook his head at me as I walked over to the couch.

  “You don’t have to keep me company,” he said.

  “I want to know if you have a fever.”

  I hesitated an instant before laying my palm against his forehead. He was hot. My hand trembled as I touched him.

  I had this bizarre sense of not-quite-being-there, like I was somehow outside my body observing what was happening. I think it was because he was Gage Dalton, for crying out loud. And I was touching his forehead, just like he was a regular person.

  “I’m just a regular guy,” he said softly, as if he’d read my mind. Those beautiful, blue eyes gazed up at me. “You don’t need to be nervous.”

  I laughed—nervously. “I’m not.”

  “I wish I hadn’t told you who I am.”

  “Why not?” I pulled my hand away.

  “Because you were treating me like a normal person until you found out.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be such an idiot.”

  “Hey.” He grabbed my hand. “I didn’t mean it that way. It just gets old, you know? Having people get weird around me.”

  “Oh. Yeah, I can imagine.” I cleared my throat. “So, I’m pretty sure you have a fever. And I think you might have picked up a virus somewhere. Or maybe there was something in the water, although the McKenzie is pretty clean so that’s probably not it.” Okay, now I was babbling. Not attractive.

  Gage leaned his head back against the arm of the couch and closed his eyes. “I feel like shit.”

  “Does your stomach still hurt?”

  “Yeah. I’m probably going to puke some more.”

  “Jeez. I’m so sorry.”

  He opened his eyes to a slit and peered up at me through his lashes. “Not your fault.”

  “I know. I just hate to see someone go through this, because I know how much the stomach flu sucks.”

  “What, this? I’m having a great time.”

  I chuckled. “I should get you something to drink.”

  “God, no. I’d just hurl again.”

  “But you need liquid. You don’t want to get dehydrated.”

  He peered at me again, this time with a frown. “Nova, I appreciate your concern, but I really just want to be left alone.”

  I took a step back and stuffed my hands in my pockets. “Okay. I’ll leave you alone, then.”

  Stupid to pout over it. Stupid to let him hurt my feelings. He was sick, and sick people tend to be cranky, plus he didn’t even know me. Why would he want me hovering over him? I know I wouldn’t like it if a stranger was hanging around watching me puke and do other embarrassing stuff.

  Was he going to do other embarrassing stuff?

  I could see we were in for some long days. He’d already tested my patience and we’d only gotten started. I wandered toward the kitchen, determined to ignore him as long as possible.

  “Hey, Nova?” Gage called from the hallway.

  I poked my head into the hall. “Yeah?”

  How could anyone look so good while being so sick at the same time? Even greasy hair and the bags under his eyes couldn’t make him look plain. The universe had given him a major advantage over all other men.

  He stood in front of the door to the master bedroom, staring at me, his wallet in his hands. “Where’d my money go?”

  “Your money?” I said blankly.

  “Yeah. I had five hundred bucks in here and it’s all gone.” His tone sounded just a little accusing for my taste.

  “I have no idea. I didn’t even look at your wallet until this morning, when you gave it to me.”

  He glowered suspiciously at me. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “You know, if you took it, I’ll understand. I won’t be mad or anything as long as you give it back.”

  My jaw fell open. “If I took it? You think I stole from you?”

  He looked uncertain. “If it wasn’t you, then who was it? You’re the only person I’ve seen since I left that party.”

  “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe someone at the party stole your money. It wasn’t me.”

  “Look, I’m not trying to be an asshole here, but this seems kinda suspicious.”

  I glowered back at him. “Yeah? I dragged you out of the river. I saved your life. Why the hell would I steal from you?”

  He just continued to stare at me, his gaze boring into me like he wanted to turn me inside out. Maybe he thought I was hiding his money in a body cavity. That thought made me want to laugh, which probably would have pissed him off even more so I bit down hard on my lip.

  He opened the wallet and poked through it. “Some of my credit cards are missing, too.”

  “Gage, I swear to you I didn’t take them. But if you don’t believe me, you’re welcome to search the cabin.” All he’d find was the twenty dollars in cash I currently had in my purse. I didn’t carry wads of cash around like some big spender.

  He considered my offer for another minute, staring at me the whole time. Then he pressed his hand to his belly. He disappeared into the bathroom, and an instant later I heard more retching. He was in a bad way.

  He didn’t know me, so part of me couldn’t blame him for suspecting me. Five hundred dollars would be a major temptation to a lot of people. But another part of me thought I should boot him out into the storm for being such an ungrateful jerk.

  I don’t want to be an asshole.

  Didn’t he know there was an easy solution to that? You don’t want to be an asshole ... then don’t be an asshole. There were a dozen ways he could have approached me about the money loss without accusing me of being the thief.

  I filled my teakettle with water and set it on the stove top. I’d gotten very little sleep, and that always made me testy and irritable. Maybe I could stay away from him until we both felt better, and then we’d be able to get along and not bite each other’s heads off.

  More sounds of vomiting came from the bathroom. He was going to end up dehydrated if he didn’t replace some of the liquid he was tossing into the toilet. Dehydration was dangerous, and the worse it got the more nauseated he would get and the more resistant he’d be to taking liquid. It could become a vicious, even deadly, cycle.

  I didn’t want to argue with him again about drinking something, but I wanted a dying man on my hands even less.

  My feet lagged as I walked down the short hallway to the bathroom. Confronting this guy was not high on my list of fun times. But I had a responsibility to take care of him since he was my guest. Plus, I hadn’t dragged him from the river just so he could die from puking his guts out in my bathroom.

  He sat on the floor, his back against the wall opposite from the toilet. His eyes were closed when I paused in the doorway. He looked awful. Beautiful, yet awful—his hair even more lank and greasy, the circles beneath his eyes a purple-black shade like two bruises, his forehead damp with sweat.

  He opened his eyes and stared at me. “What do you want?” he said, his voice flat but raspy.

  “You need to drink something.”

  “No way.”

  “You’re going to get dehydrated.”

  His lids closed again. “Nova, I already told you no. It would only make me puke more.”

  “If you drink it super slowly, it might stay down. I’m serious, Gage. You could die out here. There’s no way to call for help, and besides there aren’t any real medical facilities around here. I have to take care of you, even if you don’t want me to.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered. His hand came up to push some hair from his eyes. He was trembling.

  That scared me. He was vulnerable after his accident in the McKenzie, and whatever bug he had might make him a lot sicker than he would have been if he hadn’t fallen into the water.

  I t
urned silently away and went to the kitchen for a glass of cold water. When I came back, Gage was still in the same position, his head against the wall, his eyes closed. He didn’t look like he was relaxed, though. It was more like he was catching his breath until the next attack of vomiting hit him.

  “Here,” I said, bending down with the glass.

  His eyes opened. He frowned. “Damn it, I told you no.”

  “You’re going to drink this.” I held out the glass.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  Jeez, we sounded like a couple of third-graders.

  “Take that away before I throw up all over you.”

  “No.” I thrust the glass into his hand and closed his fingers around it. “Drink extra slowly, super-tiny sips. Like you’re only wetting your tongue.”

  His lips tightened as he glared at me. “You’re damn pushy, you know that?”

  “Just drink it.” He could call me names all he wanted, but I still wasn’t letting him die on me.

  “Jesus.” He lifted the glass to his lips and tilted it. “Happy now?”

  “I’ll be happy when”—you’re gone —”you’ve finished the whole glass.”

  His nostrils flared. Boy, he was intimidating when he looked at me like that. But it wasn’t going to work. I didn’t care if he liked me or hated me. He was going to stay hydrated, even if he despised me for it.

  “Would you like to go to the bedroom to drink that, or do you want to stay on the bathroom floor?” I asked sweetly.

  He scowled at me for another minute before answering. “Bedroom.”

  I took the glass from him and watched him climb to his feet. He looked pretty unsteady, but I didn’t offer to help him walk. Maybe it was petty of me. Maybe I should have been nicer. Honestly, he was starting to piss me off with his attitude.

  Once we’d made it to the bedroom, he sat on the edge of the bed, his movements stiff, and took the glass from me. I folded my arms over my chest as I waited for him to take another sip. Which he did, still scowling resentfully at me.

  “You’re going to keep after me until I drink this whole thing, aren’t you?” he said.

  “Yep.”

  He shook his head, then winced. “My head is killing me.”

  “Dehydration can cause a headache.”

  “What are you, a doctor?”

  “No,” I said. “But my parents are.”

  He gave a short laugh. “I can believe it.”

  “The thing is,” I continued, “dehydration makes you nauseated. And you’re already nauseated, but the dehydration will only make it worse until you truly can’t keep anything down. So we’ve got to head it off now, before it gets too much for us to handle. If it gets that bad, the only thing that will help you is an IV drip, which I don’t have on hand.”

  He groaned. “Okay, fine, Dr. Nova. I’ll try to follow orders.”

  “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

  One corner of his mouth curled up in a half-hearted smile. “I’m sure it thrills you.”

  “Take another sip.”

  It surprised me when he followed my order. I’d half expected him to refuse again, even though he’d just promised me he would drink it.

  “So, is this your place?” he said as he lowered the glass.

  “It belongs to my parents.”

  “I’m surprised they’d let you stay out here by yourself.”

  “They know I’m competent.”

  He lifted the glass again in a mock toast. “Yes, you are.”

  If he was trying to be nice, it wasn’t working. He just sounded like a condescending jerk. But I stayed where I was, answering questions about the area, until he’d finally gotten the whole glass of water down.

  “We’ll see if you can keep it down before I give you another one,” I said.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He leaned gingerly back on the pillows and closed his eyes.

  “Do you want to be alone?”

  Now, why had I asked him that? I should have simply left. If he really wanted me, he could ask for my company.

  “Never mind,” I muttered as I left the room.

  Chapter 13

  November Daye

  Gage:

  She hated me. You’d think I wouldn’t give a shit, considering how bad I felt, but it bothered me. As crappy as my body felt, my mind was drawn to her, even though I couldn’t explain why.

  She was bossy, snippy, and just plain irritating. Did she really think I was going to die on her just because I was throwing up? And would it kill her to show a little sympathy?

  She acted like I was this terrible burden on her. It’s not like I expected her to hold my hand while I puked. I didn’t think I was getting in her way. Not too much, anyway.

  Okay, so maybe having a puking stranger in your extra bedroom wasn’t especially pleasant. Maybe I was getting in her way. And maybe I was cramping her style, keeping her from all those killer parties she’d be at if it weren’t for me. Oh, wait. All she did was hang around this cabin and work on her mysterious project, so probably not.

  The truth was, I’d never met a girl who didn’t try to throw herself at me. Except for a handful of lesbians, maybe. All the straight girls were all over me, all the time. But Nova hardly even looked at me.

  I was one shallow bastard. Didn’t know what to do with a woman who wasn’t begging me to do her.

  The last round of puking had settled my stomach a little, but it was starting to hurt again. I breathed slowly and deeply through my nose to try to settle it down. The cabin smelled like woodsmoke, and aside from some muffled noises from the kitchen was utterly silent.

  This kind of quiet was foreign to me. I’d grown up in L.A., where there was no such thing as quiet, especially in the low-life neighborhoods where my mom and I had lived until I started making money. There was always some kind of man-made noise in my hometown.

  Traffic noise, sirens, garbage trucks, car stereos, planes overhead, neighbors hollering at each other, a constant dull roar twenty-four hours a day.

  Here there was nothing except the wind in the trees, and right now I couldn’t even hear that. When I glanced out the window, all I saw was a constantly falling curtain of white.

  I started to shiver. I wasn’t sure if the cabin was really cold or if it was just me. Either way, I wrapped the blankets around me and tried to get warm. My efforts didn’t seem to be working.

  A few minutes later, my gut cramped violently. I threw off the blankets and staggered to the bathroom, reaching it just in time. Jesus. What a thing to have when there was a beautiful stranger right in the next room. I cringed, hoping she couldn’t hear me.

  Not long after I crawled back into bed, she came into my room. “How do you feel?” she said softly.

  “Like crap.”

  “Did you throw up the water?”

  “No.” I closed my eyes, half hoping she’d go away and half hoping she’d stay. Maybe crawl into bed with me.

  She came over to me, her feet making soft noises on the old throw rug that covered the simple wooden floor. Her little hand pressed gently against my forehead. She smelled good, like smoke and vanilla.

  “You’re still hot,” she said.

  So are you.

  “Will I live, doc?” My voice sounded almost unrecognizable.

  “Your prognosis is good.” She had a smile in her voice. Maybe I was getting to her. Finally.

  Did I want to get to her? I’d already decided she wasn’t the usual party girl type I took to bed. She seemed like the type to get emotionally involved, and I couldn’t do that to her. I couldn’t drag her into the dark ugliness of my life, expose her to the same shit that had killed Jeremy.

  Normally, I wouldn’t be so ethical. I mean, I didn’t even like her. Not really. I just found her weirdly fascinating and sexually attractive. So why hold back? We could have a good time for a while, after I’d gotten better. Then I’d go on my way and we’d both be happy.

  But w
hat if something bad happened to her because of me? What if he really was following me around and picking off anyone I got close to? I couldn’t repay her generosity by endangering her.

  No, Dr. Nova was not for me.

  “I wish I had something for you to do to pass the time,” she said.

  “I’m fine.”

  The light flickered and went out, leaving only the chill gray light coming through the window.

  “Well, there goes the electricity.” She sounded way too cheerful about it.

  “Does this happen a lot?”

  “I think so. This is the first winter I’ve spent up here, but from what I hear from the locals, it’s pretty common.”

  I grunted in acknowledgment. Having the electricity go out would suck. Or would it? On further thought I realized I didn’t much care about it. I felt too shitty to want to do anything but lay here anyway. She had that wood-burning cook stove, so we wouldn’t be cold.

  “I could read to you.”

  I pried my eyes open and found her smiling at me. “Are you serious?”

  “Not really. But I would if you wanted me to.”

  “Uh ... no, thanks.” Most people had no idea how to read something aloud and make it sound interesting, and that made their awkward performances painful to endure.

  “Okay. Well, if you need anything, just holler.” She got up.

  I did need something. I needed her lips on mine. She wouldn’t want to give me that, and I couldn’t think of anything else that would make me feel as good, so I kept my mouth shut.

  “Do you think you could get another glass of water down?” she said, pausing in the doorway.

  “Maybe.”

  “Then I’ll be right back.”

  She was persistent for sure. I couldn’t blame her for not wanting a dead body on her hands, and I didn’t want to die anyway, so I’d cooperate. For now.

  If I let myself die, my mom would probably be relieved. She’d know the devil wasn’t coming after her, since he’d already gotten what he wanted. Maybe I should just let myself go. Let’s face it—the world didn’t need me. All I did was entertain people, just another pretty face on the big screen. Who would miss me?