“Of course.”
“Good night, Cassie. I’ll see myself out.”
She nodded and watched him leave. Tanner grabbed his bag from the hall and headed through the front door and realized that leaving was the last thing he wanted to do.
* * *
When Cassie sat up in bed at six the next morning she knew the headache and scratchy throat she’d been harboring for days had finally taken hold. But Oliver’s cries made her ignore her pains, push back the covers and roll off the mattress. She changed into jeans and a T-shirt, took a couple of aspirin and worked through her sluggishness. It was well past the half hour by the time she’d fed him and then made herself some soothing peppermint tea.
But Oliver was unsettled for most of the morning and in between doing two loads of washing and putting a casserole in the slow cooker, she took him for a long walk. When she got home it was after three and she gave him a bath and a bottle before putting him to bed for a nap.
And even though her head hurt and her throat ached, she kept thinking about what had transpired over the past forty-eight hours. She thought about Doug. And Tanner.
The brothers clearly had a much more complex relationship than she’d realized and Cassie knew that the undivided faith she’d always held in the man she’d loved—the man who had fathered her child—was unexpectedly under threat. Why would Doug have sent a vulnerable and grieving child to a boarding school so far away from the only home he’d ever known? It seemed incredibly callous and at odds with the man she knew. The man she’d thought she knew.
A man she clearly hadn’t known.
He’d charmed her with his smile and humor and she’d never really questioned his honesty or integrity.
Until now.
And Tanner? He was very different from the man Doug had described. He wasn’t moody and indifferent. In fact, he was the complete opposite. And she was as confused as ever.
With her headache worsening and her whole body slowly succumbing to an unusual lethargy, by four o’clock Cassie grabbed the baby monitor, made tea and then curled up on the sofa in front of the television.
She drifted off to sleep and was plagued by dreams. Of Oliver. Of her parents. Of Doug. And of Tanner. Of his warm brown eyes and sexy smile. When she awoke she discovered a throw had been laid over her bare arms. The monitor was gone from its spot on the coffee table and she sat up quickly. Oliver. The headache hadn’t abated and she pressed a hand to her temple. It was dark outside and the lamp in the corner gave off a soft glow. Someone was in her house. With the monitor missing, the lamp on and throw draped across her, it was the only explanation. Perhaps Lauren had stopped by? Or M.J.? Both her friends knew where she hid the spare key.
Her legs were heavy as she stood and Cassie rested her knuckles on the side of the sofa for support as she ditched the throw and slipped her shoes back on. She swallowed hard and winced at the stinging pain in her throat. She left the room and headed down the hall toward the nursery. No Oliver. Her heart raced and she rushed down the hallway. And heard voices. Well, one voice. One very familiar, deep and hypnotic voice. She came to a halt in the doorway and listened as Tanner spoke to her son, who he held gently in the crook of one arm while he whisked eggs in a bowl with his free hand.
“—and it won’t be a truly superb omelet, of course, without peppers...but it will do. Did you know your daddy was allergic to eggs? I suppose we’ll find out if you inherited that from him soon enough. Since you’ve already had your bottle you might even think about shutting those big eyes of yours and getting some sleep.”
“Tanner?”
He stopped talking and whisking and looked toward the door. “Hey there.” He turned Oliver around. “Look whose awake, little man. Mommy.”
She smiled at her beautiful baby and then looked at the man holding him. “What are you doing here?”
“I said I’d drop by, remember,” he reminded her. “And I knocked, around four-thirty. Your door was unlocked.”
Cassie felt too unwell to reproach herself for leaving the front door unlocked and then crashing on the sofa. Crystal Point was a safe place...but still...it was irresponsible. Especially with a baby in the house. Although she doubted Mouse would let an intruder in without alerting her. Speaking of which...
“Where’s my dog?”
“In the backyard,” he explained. “Fed and waiting to be let back in, I’m sure.”
Cassie nodded. “You let me sleep.”
“You seemed to need it.”
She shrugged and tried to ignore the pain in her head. She really was feeling worse with every passing moment. “I guess I did.” She looked toward her baby. “He’ll need changing before he’s put down for the night.”
“Done,” Tanner said and moved toward her. “I’m somewhat of a dab hand with a diaper these days. I had practice with Grady’s kids when they were babies.”
Her brows came up. “And you’re making dinner?”
“To order,” he replied and grinned. “If you don’t like omelet.”
Cassie thought about her wavering stomach. “Actually, I put a casserole on this afternoon,” she said and pointed to the slow cooker on the counter. “But I might just have some soup a little later.”
“Soup it is. But first I’ll put this little guy to bed.”
Normally she would have protested. But the headache and wobble in her knees was getting steadily worse and she didn’t quite trust her balance. “That would be great. Thanks.”
Once he left the room Cassie sank into a chair and rested her arms on the table. When Tanner returned she was still in that position.
“Everything okay?”
She nodded and sighed heavily. “Just tired I guess. Thank you for watching Oliver.”
“My pleasure,” he said and came around the table. “He’s a good baby. You know, you don’t look so great. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I think I’ll—”
She stopped as his hand reached out and he rested it against her forehead. “You’re burning up.”
Cassie’s skin tingled from his touch and she pulled away fractionally. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You have a fever.”
She shook her head and pushed the chair back. “I’ll be okay. I only need some rest,” she insisted and stood. But her legs wavered and she gripped the edge of the table for support.
“Like hell. You’re sick.”
And without another word Tanner scooped her up into his arms.
By the time she had the strength to protest he was down the hallway and had shouldered her bedroom door open and placed her gently on the edge of her bed. “Now get some rest.”
“You didn’t have to pick me up,” she protested feebly, pushing back her embarrassment and trying not to think about how it felt to be held against his broad chest. He was still recovering from an injury and the last thing he needed was to damage his leg again. “I could have walked.”
“And fallen over most likely,” he said. “You need to take care of yourself, Cassie.”
“I will. I do. I have a headache, that’s all. It’ll pass once I get some rest.”
“You have a fever,” he insisted as he strode toward the bed and pulled the comforter back. “I’ll bring you some water. Where do you keep your aspirin?”
She rolled