Page 23 of The Payback Adventure
“It’s been a long day.” She set the bear on top of the other toys in the basket. “There. A little less lived-in.”
“A lot less lived-in.” He appreciated her effort.
Elisabeth’s grin lit up her face. He already thought she was gorgeous, but at that moment, she was breathtaking. He’d never seen anything more lovely in all his life. His heart skipped a beat. Three, actually. But who was counting?
“Ready for bed?” she asked.
The air whooshed from Henry’s lungs. He didn’t move. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. It was a moment like no other, and he wanted to hang on to it for as long as possible. He wasn’t sure what was happening. Something told him he didn’t want to know. He’d been propositioned before, but this was totally unexpected. Yet welcome. Very, very welcome.
He raised a brow. “Isn’t it a little early for…bed?”
“Morning will be here before you know it. And there’s so much I want to do with you…”
Henry grinned in anticipation.
“Tomorrow.”
Disappointment shot through him. Elisabeth wasn’t propositioning him. She was talking about sleeping.
She glanced back from the staircase. “Are you coming?”
Was he?
Henry had to decide what he wanted here. Yes, he wanted to prove a point to Cynthia, but winning or losing his adventure wasn’t the only thing at stake. Somebody could get hurt. Not him. Surely, he was impervious to big blue eyes and soft kissable lips and a slow sweet smile that…
Yeah, he was impervious to all that. But he could hurt her. Elisabeth.
Or—the idea seized him—he could help her.
Maybe he was meant to help her.
Elisabeth needed so much more than a date or boyfriend or even a husband. And it wasn’t only her. Her brother and sisters were in need, too. The Wheeler family didn’t need a farmhand; they needed a fairy godfather.
And Henry knew the perfect man for the job.
* * *
“He’s gotta be dead.”
No, Henry wasn’t dead. But death didn’t sound so bad to him. He’d only closed his eyes a few minutes ago, and nowtheywanted him to get out of bed. Not even fairy godfathers got up this early.
“If he isn’t dead,” the high voice he guessed belonged to Caitlin said, “why isn’t he moving?”
Because I’m trying to sleep.
Henry didn’t want to move; he didn’t want to open his eyes. He wanted only for them to go away. Far, far away.
“No one can stay still that long.”
Curiosity got the better of him. He pried open his heavy eyelids and was assaulted by bright white light.
He squinted, but that did no good. A jagged pain shot through his head, ricocheting off every nerve ending, brain cell, and whatever else was inside there. He squeezed his eyes shut. Not even his worst hangover had felt this bad. That was what he got for sleeping without a feather pillow. And these sheets were not Egyptian cotton. A poly-cotton blend, no doubt.
“You’re finally awake.” The soothing tone of a feminine voice seeped into his foggy brain and made him feel better. He’d fallen asleep, thinking about her voice. Her.
Elisabeth.
He forced his eyes open. Four pairs of much too clear, much too bright blue eyes stared at him. Henry glanced around for a clock but saw only a candy bar wrapper, a pile of comic books, and stacks of cards—baseball and monster creatures. “What time is it?”
