She lifted her head to peer at him from under eyelids at half-mast. “Yup. Only I’m sick again.”

Oh, boy. Wyatt stepped over to help her up. Then, holding her upright with one arm, he lifted the commode seat and got her situated on her knees. She propped both arms on the rim of the bowl and hung her head over the water as if the answers to a thousand questions could be found down there. All of a sudden, she snapped erect and only the brace of his hand between her shoulder blades kept her from falling backward.

She turned her face up to him, and he saw that her eyes had opened all the way. “Oh, God. I can’t puke in there. Toilets are icky. Just the thought makes me sick.”

To punctuate that sentence, her body lurched as a wave of nausea struck her. Wyatt grabbed her waste can, which fortunately had a disposable liner, and let her hurl up what remained in her stomach. Then he carried her to the bed and deposited her gently on the mattress, which made her partially unbuttoned shirt gape open. She clutched the front plackets, trying without success to cover herself, but the garment had bunched up behind her back.

“Don’t look!”

Wyatt read those two words, but she said more that he couldn’t see with her uplifted arms blocking his view. “I’m not looking.” That was a lie, but he was trying not to, and that had to count for something. “Just—um—relax.”

He didn’t want to let her sleep in her clothes, but he needed to get her covered up, not undress her even more. He grabbed a handful of her bedspread and jerked it over her.

“There, honey, you’re all covered again.”

She hugged the chenille close. “Thank you, Wyatt.” He saw her larynx bob, and she grimaced. “Oh, no.”

He ran for the bathroom, grabbed the waste receptacle, and made it back to the bed just in time. Afterward, he decided she might need a bucket during the night. “I’ll leave the trash can right next to you. Okay?” He saw that her eyes were closed and wasn’t sure if she’d heard him. “Erin, look at me. I’m talking to you.”

“I’m not deaf, Wyatt. I can hear with my eyes closed.”

“Okay. What did I just say?”

“You’re leaving the trash can.”

“Very good.” He couldn’t help but smile. “Goodnight, then. Try to sleep it off.”

She lifted her lashes as if even that motion took all her concentration. “Thank you. For taking care of me, I mean. I would have slept on the toilet.”

Wyatt left her bedroom and scoped out the sofa, which was too short for him. But he’d slept in worse places. He kicked off his boots and sat to text Kennedy. Tell the boss I got held up in town. I’ll be on time in the morning. I’m spending the night with a friend.

That made him grin. He hadn’t lied. Erin was a friend. He opened the clock function on his phone and set the timer for two hours so he would wake up to check on her. Chances were that she’d be fine, but having been drunk a couple of times himself, he knew how sick a person could get. Unfortunately, he also knew that drunks who woke up still half-lit could do some pretty stupid stuff, like deciding they needed to walk it off and falling into snowbanks. There was no snow on the ground, but Erin’s house overlooked the creek. He didn’t want her to tumble in and drown.