He went to the bathroom in Eli’s bedroom and looked in the medicine cabinet for some painkillers, but saw nothing. He’d negotiated for the house to be furnished, but he hadn’t thought of things like
over-the-counter medicines.
When the cabinet shut, he saw his face in the mirror. It was swelling and his eye was turning dark.
He went back into the bedroom but didn’t know what to do next. Since he was supposed to be Eli—at least to Chelsea, anyway—did he take over the house? Or should he pack and leave?
All he knew for sure was that his head was hurting too much to think clearly. He got his car keys from the bowl by the front door and left.
He drove into town, parked, got out, and looked around for a drugstore.
“Hey, Jeff,” came a voice behind him.
It was Melissa and he did not want her to see his face. Putting his hand over his eye, he turned halfway toward her. “Hi.”
But she did see. Instantly, her pretty face went from smiling to being the deputy sheriff. “Who hit you?”
“I ran into a—”
“Who hit you?”
“Eli,” he said and Melissa took her phone out of her pocket. “Wait! Please. Let me explain.”
“Assault is not an explainable action.”
“It is if I set it up so Eli could impress a girl.”
“I’m listening,” Melissa said.
“Could we go somewhere and get something for pain?”
“Sure,” she said. “Then we’re going to sit down and you’re going to tell me every word of this story. If I don’t like it, I’m going to arrest Eli.”
“Then I guess I better add Master Storyteller to my many other talents.”
She didn’t smile. “Looks like you should.”
Hours later—after Melissa’d had the local doctor check Jeff’s jaw and X-ray it—they were having dinner in a very nice restaurant and Jeff was just finishing telling his life story. They’d stopped talking about Eli and his problems thirty minutes after they got together. Melissa said, “Eli’s an idiot.”
Jeff agreed. “He’s got a dozen gorgeous females after him, but he wants some girl who drinks champagne for breakfast. Why does he think that’s going to work?”
“I’m living proof that opposites don’t mesh,” Melissa said as she flaked off a piece of trout.
“You?” Jeff said. “I would think you could have any man you wanted.”
“Thanks, but men like me until I cancel the third date in a row. When something happens, Colin expects me to be there. I can’t tell him, ‘Sorry about the three-car pileup, but I have a hot date.’ ”
“Same with me,” Jeff said. “Eli calls me at three a.m. and asks me questions. He works in thirty-hour marathons and thinks I’m a wimp when I fall asleep. When we were writing on Trafalgar Knights, I thought—”
“You wrote that game?” Melissa’s eyes were wide.
“With Eli,” Jeff said modestly. “It sold well.”
“Are you kidding? I have three nephews and I bought each of them that game. The hugs I got were worth the price.”
“Game two, Trafalgar Warriors, is about to come out. I can get you some early copies.”
“Would you? I’d be such a hero to my nephews that maybe my sister would get off my back about my lack of a life.” She looked down at her food. “So where are you staying tonight?”