The Wrong Kind of Love (Boys of Jackson Harbor 1)

“I’ve got it, Nic. I know how to do laundry.”

“What are you paying me for if you’re going to do your own laundry, run your daughter to school, and miss work?”

He smirks. “Don’t even the broodiest employers give their employees sick days?”

“I’m sorry I said that.”

He shrugs. “I suppose it’s true. I’ve never been known for my sparkling personality.” He steps forward and presses the back of his hand to my forehead. When he pulls it away, his gaze snags on my lips for a long moment.

My heart pounds. “No fever,” I say, though I’m sure he already figured that out himself.

“I could have come home from the conference to help you out. Shay said you were a total rock star.”

“There was no reason for you to come home. I was fine until . . .” Until I wasn’t. He stares at me for a long time, and I nervously tuck my hair behind my ears. “I’m going to get that shower and get dressed.”

“Don’t push it, okay?” He reaches around me and grabs a bottle of water off the nightstand. “Drink this and about five more. You’re dehydrated.”

“How do you know that?”

He grunts. “Logic? And”—he sweeps his index finger across my bottom lip—“I can see it here.”

See, Nic? He’s not looking at you in a sexual way. He’s looking at you because he’s a doctor and that’s what he does.

I feel myself deflate but try not to show it. I’m being ridiculous.

“Hydrate and your energy will come back faster.”

“Yes, doctor.” I back out of the room, and once I hit the hallway, I hustle to the stairs to the bathroom, where I strip out of my grimy clothes and turn the shower to hot.

While it warms, I brush my teeth for five minutes, because vomit is disgusting, and that’s how long it takes for my mouth to feel clean again. After I’m done flossing and using mouthwash, the mirror is completely steamed over.

I step under the hot spray, all too aware that Ethan and I are alone in the house together until Lilly gets home. What is it about a surly man turning into a nurturer that’s so damn sexy?

I distract myself from thoughts of Ethan and his sad eyes by making a list of the things I want to disinfect today and the supplies I’ll need to give the house a good scrubbing.

When I finish the longest shower of my adult life, I pull on a pair of gray sweats and a long-sleeved black shirt. The energy I woke up with is fading fast, and I feel a little weak, but I ignore it and get to work.

I start with the bathroom I share with Lilly. I deep-cleaned it yesterday, but it needs it again now. I’m scrubbing the base of the toilet with bleach water when I hear someone clear his throat behind me.

I turn to see Ethan, his big arms folded over his chest.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Cleaning.”

He shakes his head and grabs the scouring pad from my hand. “Go read a book or watch TV or do something that doesn’t involve manual labor. I’ll clean the bathroom. And before you think about making some fancy dinner with your extra time, it’s already been taken care of.”

Standing, I smooth down my pants and bite my lip. “Thanks. I’m just . . . I’m not very good at doing nothing.”

“I noticed.” His eyes sweep over me. “Go rest, Nic. I need you to rest now so you can get well again. If you push it, you’ll just catch something else or have a rebound of the stomach flu.”

I nod. His logic is sound. I can’t laze around in bed, though, so I head to the living room to pick a book from his bookshelves.

I pull out a romance novel. I’ve gotten so used to Elena’s notes that I’m not surprised to discover a piece of paper folded inside, but it’s not the kind of note I was expecting.

Elena,

I can’t stop thinking about you. Come to me tomorrow after he leaves. You deserve happiness.

-M

With shaking hands, I put the note back and pick another book, trying not to think about what I read. Who’s M, and why was he writing notes to Ethan’s wife? And why did she leave the note in her book instead of throwing it away? Did she want Ethan to see it? Has he seen it?

Maybe Ethan and I have more in common than I ever realized.

“Did you find something?” Ethan asks behind me.

I turn away from the bookshelf and give him a tentative smile. “I did.”

I found more than I wanted to.

Ethan

“These candidates aren’t what I asked for.” I grip my phone tighter and glare at my computer. What’s the point in paying a company to help you find an employee if they can’t even follow simple directions?