Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
He still wasn’t calm by the time he slid his first concoction into the oven, so he started on another mix. They already had leftovers from his previous efforts, but he’d go mad if he had to sit still. Most of it would freeze fine, he told himself, and Catie could thaw it out the next time she came down. They could also take a bunch of stuff back home to Auckland.
His phone, which he’d brought into the room with the idea of listening to one of his playlists and promptly forgotten about, began buzzing fifteen minutes into his second mix. Not in the mood to deal with even a text from a friend, he ignored it. But the messages kept coming.
Growling under his breath, he finished scooping out the last of the cupcake batter into one of the muffin pans he’d prepared, then went over and grabbed the phone. To find a long list of messages from Catie.
I can smell something.
What is it?
Don’t you dare make cookies and not give me some.
HELLO!!
I’m wounded here and you’re stuffing your face.
ANSWER YOUR DAMN MESSAGES, HOTSHOT.
That’s it, I’m not forgetting this.
Revenge will be mine.
Grinning by the end of the string, Danny shot back: Hold your horses. They’re not done yet.
Silence.
That was when he knew Catie wasn’t back to her usual self or anything like it. Jaw tight, he took the cookies out of the oven, then slid the cupcakes in. The cookies needed a few more minutes to set. He spent that time warming up a tall glass of milk.
After which he plated four yet-warm cookies and walked over to knock on the door with his foot. “It’s your food delivery.”
He half expected her to tell him to leave it by the door, but she said, “Come in.”
Face clear of makeup, her hair brushed out, she was in bed in her pj’s. She’d pulled the duvet over her lower half and set her legs aside on the floor. Also beside the bed was a simple foldable wheelchair. He’d guessed she might have one here—he knew Ísa and Sailor had one in storage at their place in case Catie ever needed it during a visit. But he’d never actually seen her use one.
That she’d not only gotten it out but was allowing him to see it…
Fuck.
“Here, Your Highness,” he managed to get out past the worry that was a heavy stone in his gut. After she took the plate, he put the glass of milk on her bedside table.
She was already taking a giant bite out of a cookie. Making a surprised sound when the chocolate melted all over her lip, she quickly licked it up and said, “Holy mackerel, hotshot. Where did you find cherries?”
“Jam,” he told her. “Not perfect, but it’ll do in a pinch.”
Catie had stuffed the rest of the cookie in her mouth, had her fingers on another one. “Mmm.”
Since she seemed to be feeling more herself, he dared go back out, get himself a drink and some cookies, and come back to join her. Putting his stuff on the other bedside table, he sat down on the bed with his back to the headboard and his body on top of the duvet.
“You lost your clothes?”
Only at her sharp question did he realize he was still only wearing boxer shorts. Dear Lord, he’d been so worried that he’d turned into a near-naked baker. At least he hadn’t been at risk from oil splatters.
“You being lured by my luscious body?” he shot back in an effort to hide his cock’s enthusiastic reaction to the fact Catie was looking at his all but naked self. He also drew up his leg to better hide the sudden interest in his boxers.
“You wish,” she said and bit into a third cookie.
They ate in silence for a while until Danny said, “How bad is it?”
Catie loved cookies, but she was also an elite runner who usually only fueled her body with good, nutritious meals and snacks. One cookie binge over a weekend was a fun indulgence, but a second one? That was a sign something was very wrong.
“It’s swollen,” she said. “But I’ve had that kind of swelling before and it’s gone down overnight, so it might be all right.” A tightness to her voice.
“But?”
She put down her half-eaten cookie, reached to pick up the milk. After drinking a third of it, she put it back down. “You follow Posey online, right?”
“Sure. I met her that time she came to New Zealand, remember?” Catie had brought her friend along to a family dinner, and they’d all had a great time. “You’re talking about the issues she’s had this past year?”
Posey had been charting the issues with her residual limbs and how she could no longer wear prostheses as regularly as she’d previously done. She was in too much pain, her residual limbs prone to swelling.