She concentrated on her breathing and the way she immediately relaxed. His fingers were warm, his body close. It was only when heat and desire replaced the need to throw up that she realized he was still crouched next to her and they were still staring at each other. Which meant he probably knew she was far less interested in any medicinal touching and way more into anything else he wanted to do.

Humiliation crashed through her. She pulled back and tried to smile.

“All better,” she said brightly, aware she probably sounded like an idiot. “You have the touch.” She paused, hoping he didn’t misunderstand. “I meant, well, just you’re very good at what you do.”

Ack! Worse!

He moved back to his chair. “Are you all right?”

“Fine. Great. Thank you for your help. I’m going to have to study up on how you do that so I can take care of myself.” She held in a moan. Really? Had she just said that? “With the nausea.”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “Yes, I got that.”

“Great. Fine. Excellent. I’ll be going. You enjoy those bruschettas.”

She stood, grabbed her coat and made her escape. Once she was safely in her own apartment, she curled up on the sofa and vowed that she would do better the next time she saw Micah. Or maybe she would simply avoid him altogether. That seemed the much safer alternative.

Reggie cleared the craft table in the basement. She collected one of the plastic bins in the corner and tossed all the mismatched odds and ends into it so she could have some work space. She put tubes of watercolor paints into one of the drawers in the big storage unit on the wall, and stacked craft paper on the shelf.

Once she had empty desk space, she laid out the wedding invitation designs her mother had picked out. While the invitations would be sent via email, Reggie found making decisions easier if she could see the designs in print rather than on a screen.

She’d narrowed her favorites down to three when she heard a crash from upstairs. Seconds later, Belle came tearing down the stairs, Burt right behind her, barking and nipping at her heels. Belle jumped onto the sofa, looking scared and frantic.

“Burt!” Reggie scolded. “Leave her alone.”

Burt was unimpressed with her admonition and continued to growl. Belle whimpered.

“I wish you’d stand up to him,” Reggie said with a sigh. “It’s the only way to make it stop.”

Belle’s hurt look made it clear the Great Dane thought Reggie should do a much better job of protecting her delicate self.