A Brand New Ending (Page 10)

“Yes, like that. Yes!”

Backing up and shaking his head to get the image out of his brain, he realized the nice older couple wasn’t napping, but having wild sex.

Holy crap. This was a bleachable moment.

Shuddering, he went back downstairs and made the food delivery order, grabbing one of the credit cards on file to pay. Then he called Crystal’s and booked the reservation for seven p.m., figuring he’d tell the Rileys later. When it was safe.

“Oh, hi. Can I talk to Ophelia?”

He bit back a sigh and smiled at the Porcinis—a younger, hip couple addicted to winter activities in the Hudson Valley. They were regular customers, and he knew Ophelia treated them like royalty from the detailed notes stored on her computer. “I’m sorry, Ophelia is sick. My name is Kyle. I’ll be happy to help you with anything you need until she’s better.”

“Oh, I hope it’s not the flu.” The fit, attractive brunette frowned with worry along with her husband. “I’m so sorry, we don’t want to bother you.”

“Not a bother. What can I do?”

The husband—Ted—spoke up. “Ophelia set us up with a snowmobiling tour tomorrow. She said she’d pack us a special lunch for the day—I already told her to put it on our bill—but we’d like to go up early to the mountain to catch the sunrise. We wondered if we could have breakfast served a bit earlier than usual.”

A bad feeling came over him. “How early?”

“Five a.m. But if that’s an issue, we can skip it. We don’t want to stress her out if she’s sick.”

Holy hell, how many personal requests did Ophelia take care of on a regular basis? No wonder she had so many repeat customers.

She made everyone feel special, no matter who they were or what made them happy. Not many people had the type of gifts it takes to run a successful bed-and-breakfast.

He needed to keep her high standards of service while she was out sick, so he manned up and swore he’d make it work. “No problem. I can have your breakfast ready early, and a lunch packed to go.”

Ted shook his hand. “Thanks so much. I can’t tell you how much we appreciate it.”

He watched the couple disappear, wincing at the still-too-loud men cheering in the main room. He realized it was going to be a long night.

A very long night.

He got back to work.

On Sunday morning, Kyle looked at the kitchen. It looked like there had been an explosion in there. Pots and pans lined the sink, the dishwasher was already packed, and there were stacks of Tupperware half-filled with leftovers that needed to be sorted. Dirty silverware littered the counters. In the formal dining room, food was stuck on the carpets and empty cups were all over. Muddy footprints trekked through the hallways.

Fuck, he was exhausted.

He refilled his coffee and tried to rally. The guests were out for the day, so he just had to clean the kitchen. And the bedrooms. And the bathrooms. Aubrey planned to come back tomorrow.

He just had to get through today. Maybe he’d even have time to take a quick nap.

He’d slept in the chair in Ophelia’s room, and they’d both had a rough night. She’d gotten up a few times to be sick but finally fell into a deep sleep. He hoped the bad stuff was behind her. Of course, he’d been up before dawn to take care of the special breakfast and lunch he’d promised Ted. By the time that was done, some of the guys had drifted downstairs, sniffing around for food and coffee, and it was game on.

It’d only been twenty-four hours, but he felt like he’d been working a week.

This job was no joke. There was no way he’d be getting any writing done this weekend.

He glanced at the clock. Time to give Ophelia the next round of meds. He heated up the kettle and fixed a cup of tea, another glass of water with lemon, and some dry toast. Rummaging through the cabinets, he found a tray and loaded it all up.

Easing into Ophelia’s bedroom, he set the tray on the bureau, tiptoed to the bed, and leaned over.

“Holy shit!” She jerked up in surprise.

He jolted back, almost falling on his ass.

Hair a mess of tangles sticking up around her head, skin still damp and flushed from the fever, a dirty T-shirt hanging off one shoulder, she blinked wildly like a night creature awakened by a predator. “You scared me,” she croaked out.

“I think you scared me more.”

She groaned and flopped back on the pillow. “Sorry, I was having some type of crazy dream. I got stuck in the Willy Wonka factory, and they were putting me through the taffy machine.”

His lips twitched. “At least it’s better than the one you used to have.”

A pained laugh escaped. “The one where I’m a female Ben Stiller in Zoolander and the only way to save the world is to walk the runway like a badass, but I trip and fall and rip my skirt and everyone sees me half-naked? Still have that one, too.”

“Always wondered why you never wore underwear on the runway.”

“I was a slut.”

He laughed. “Every time you got stressed you’d wake up screaming from that dream.”

“I’d rather be in a taffy machine than naked in front of a judging crowd.” Her smile was quickly wiped out by a fit of coughing.

He moved toward the bed and laid a hand on her forehead. “Still warm. We should get you into some dry clothes. These are damp.”

“Forget it. I know it’s just a plan to seduce me.”

His lips twitched in a smile. “Baby, as much as I want to see you naked again, you’re too sick for even me to get excited. I’ll help get you into clean pj’s, and then you can try and eat some toast.”

“I already told you not to call me that, and I can do it myself. I have to get back to work anyway.” She pointed to the bottom drawer. “Can you just grab me some sweats and a T-shirt?”

He pulled out a cozy fleece set and watched her ease to the side of the bed, brows knit with determination. He tamped back a frustrated sigh. She was never one to surrender gracefully. The woman would fight with spit and sass till her dying breath.

She slowly stood up, took a few steps, and floundered.

“That’s it.” He swept her up into his arms, carried her to the bathroom, and set her gently back on her feet. “Turn around. I promise I won’t look.”

The pallor of her skin and the glassiness of her eyes softened her mulish expression. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.”

She fell into another coughing fit, and he gently moved her so her back faced him. With quick, methodical motions, he lifted her shirt over her head and replaced it within seconds. Before she had time to protest, he’d already tugged her sweats over her hips, leaning down to gently untangle the fabric from her legs and replace them with the new pair. He made sure to keep his gaze firmly averted from the tiny scrap of black lace that covered her. Soon, she was fully dressed.

He turned her back around. “See? That wasn’t so bad, right? Let’s get you back to bed.”

He carried her back and propped her up on a few pillows. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and brought the mug of tea to her lips. She took a sip, closing her eyes with pleasure. “Thank you. That’s good.”

“Welcome. Listen, you need to rest again today. You can’t work with a fever.”

“How bad is it out there?” she asked, biting down on her lip. “Are the skiers a lot to handle? Is Aubrey coming back?”