Chapter 23

At the smell of coffee, Camryn peeked one eye open, hoping to find the caffeine fairy holding a fresh pot. Maybe a doughnut, too, for good measure.

Instead, Troy was standing next to the bed, staring down at her with a tray in his hands. Okay, he’d do.

“What are you doing?” She sat up and pressed a palm to her throbbing head. So much for feeling better.

“Breakfast in bed. The doctor said to take it easy today.”

She’d never taken anything easy. It was just a concussion. She’d had worse. “Got any aspirin to go with that coffee?”

He set the tray on the bed in front of her and sat across from her. “Yeah, and a piece of toast. If that stays down, I can get you some eggs. The cook made Denver omelets.”

As soon as the room stopped spinning, and her stomach with it, she may try food. Swallowing the aspirin with a sip of orange juice, she studied him. He stared at her tray, then around the room. He was obviously feeling guilty. Still. Telling him the accident wasn’t his fault last night hadn't helped.

“I may need to go back to the hospital. I think I have a brain bleed.”

His gaze whipped to hers, terrifyingly wide. “What?”

She laughed, causing her headache to split her skull wide open. “Relax, Troy. It’s just a bump. I’m fine.” She resisted the urge to press her hand to the pounding. Darn little elves in her head drilling holes.

He frowned at her. “You think that’s funny? I’m worried sick and you’re cracking jokes?”

She sobered. People didn’t usually worry about her. “I’m not used to all this attention,” she said, staring at him. “I’m sorry.”

His features relaxed. “Get used to it, ’cause you’re stuck with me all day.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. “Excuse me?”

His glare was intended for no breathing room. “You’re not leaving this room today.”

“I don’t take orders.”

Crossing his arms, he leaned against the foot’s bedpost. “You’re taking this one.” He stretched his legs out before him as if settling in.

“Troy…”

“Camryn,” he mimicked in the same exasperated tone.

Huffing, she glared at him, trying to remind herself he did this out of guilt. “I realize you’re upset for throwing me off a horse--”

“I didn’t throw you off a horse.”

Exactly. “And for giving me pneumonia by making me dance in the rain--”

“You don’t have pneumonia…” He snapped his mouth shut, finally figuring out her motive. “Clever girl. No wonder Emily likes you so much. You have reverse psychology down to an art form.”

She sipped her coffee. “You can stop feeling bad now. I’m not an invalid.”

His tone softened. “Today, you’re my invalid.”

The way he said my had a possessive ring to it. One she didn’t mind. Instead of giving her a sense of dependency, it made her feel wanted. She’d never felt wanted before. However, she was not going to spend all day in this room doing nothing. What would the family think?

“I’ve never spent all day in bed. I’m not going to start now.”

“You’ve never spent a day in bed? Just relaxing?”

“No. I live in the real world. People work, have things to do.”

His brows lifted. “And what do you have to do today?”

He was infuriating. There was no arguing with him. “The family--”

“Is off on a hike. They left an hour ago. They’re going to grab lunch and head to the bakery afterward to try cake samples. We’re alone.”

She glanced at the bedside clock. Ten a.m.? “I’ve never slept this late.” She looked out the patio doors, the sun near full blaze against a bluer than blue sky.

“There are benefits to staying in bed, you know.” He wiggled his brows suggestively.

No way had he gone there, even if he'd only been kidding. After those kisses, she was having a hard enough time not envisioning what it would be like having Troy touch her. Do more than kiss.

“Bed sores?” she said, trying not to show a reaction.

“Ah, Cam. You disappoint me.” He dipped his chin at her tray. “Eat your toast.”

She glanced at what he'd brought. It was really sweet of him, even if the gesture had been out of guilt. He’d laid a wild daisy from a patch she’d seen edging the yard next to the orange juice. “I’ve never had breakfast in bed, either.”

“Really? What’s wrong with these guys you’ve been dating?”

Everything. Nothing.

When she didn’t answer, he leaned forward. “Well, I’ll add this to my Camryn List. Today will be a day of firsts. Sleeping in, breakfast in bed, and staying in said bed all day.”

A day in bed with Troy. She didn’t like the sound of that. Okay, maybe not all bad, except he didn’t have naughty fantasies in mind. And she was deluded for having them herself.

She picked up the flower and twirled the stem between her fingers, watching the white petals spin and blur. She should feel stupid for liking the gesture. It was just a flower, and he hadn't meant anything romantic by it. “Add giving me flowers to that list, then.”

He was silent so long she glanced up from the daisy to him to find out why.

Mouth open, he gaped at her. “Are you trying to be funny again? I can’t tell.”

Now she did feel stupid. Her face heated. Troy was the only person on this planet who could make her lose her cool. She said things and admitted stuff she never would otherwise. For some reason, he not only frustrated her to no end, but he confused her, too.

“Are you trying to have me believe no man has bought you flowers? Ever?”

He was making her sound pathetic. Something she could do just fine on her own. She certainly didn’t need him for that. “No. What does that matter? They die fast and stink up the room,” she justified.

He shook his head in obvious pity. “What else haven’t you done?”

She hated pity most of all. “I haven’t stood on my head and twirled either, but you don’t see me upset over it.”

His gaze darted heavenward as if seeking patience, then back to her. “Seeing as you have a concussion, perhaps something less active would be appropriate.”

She didn’t respond or offer suggestions.

“Okay, Cam. Lay it on me. What’s something you’ve always wanted to do, but never have?”

A lot, by his standards. But she could only think of one thing, and there was no harm in telling him since they couldn’t do it anyway. “I always wanted to visit Paris.”

“You?” His brows rose like the statement was preposterous. “Camryn Covic in the most romantic city on Earth?”

Romance had nothing to do with it. “Paris is considered one of the best cities in the world for innovation. I dealt with a few companies in Paris at my old job. Plus, the Eiffel Tower was supposed to be temporary for the 1889 Universal Exposition, but the tower was never dismantled. I find that fascinating.”

“Uh huh,” he said, staring at her as if she were an alternate life form.

“The food would be worth it, too. Crepes, croissants, soufflés, espresso. I’m gaining ten pounds just thinking about it, but the weight would be worth the trip.”

“Only you could take the romance out of Paris.”

“Espresso’s very sexy.”

He laughed and stood. “All right, Cam. I’m going out for a bit. I left some stuff in the bathroom for you. Take a hot bath while I’m gone.”

A hot bath sounded good. “Where are you going?”

“Eat your toast.” As if that was an answer. He stopped at the door. “And don’t leave this room.”

Just to defy him, she crossed her arms. “And what if the house is on fire?”

“Argue with the flames,” he said dryly. “You’d probably win. It’ll put itself out.”

What a comedian.

After he left, she drank the rest of her coffee and headed for the bathroom. On the side of the tub was a packet of scented bath salts and lotion. She’d never bought that kind of stuff before. The most frivolous female thing she used was her lemongrass shampoo, and that was only because she liked the brand. It tamed her hair.

Shrugging, she turned on the water and sat on the edge of the tub to read the directions.