Kick The Candle (Knight Games) by Genevieve Jack Read Free Book Online Page B

We’re not ordering out this year. We’re going to do this the traditional way or not at all.”
    I tried to remember the last time my father and I cooked together. Nothing. The part of my brain compartmentalized for cooking was empty and cobweb filled. “It’s your stomach,” I said cynically.

Chapter 6
Logan

    A fter an uneventful day at the hospital, I caught up on some badly needed sleep. Good thing because I had to get up early to help Logan through physical therapy. For the last six weeks, I’d been assisting with his outpatient recovery. My involvement was more than simply cheering him on. Every Tuesday and Thursday I met him at the rehab center, my special energy shake in hand.
    Of course, the drink was actually a healing potion from the Book of Light . I hadn’t exactly mentioned its magical properties to him, afraid he might forgo the benefits, but in this case the ends justified the means. I’d noticed a marked improvement over the last several weeks.
    I filled a sports bottle with the elixir from a pitcher I kept in the refrigerator. The stuff was foul—hunter green and smelled like feet. I’d told Logan it was wheat grass. If he suspected anything, he’d never let on.
    Warily, I backed down my driveway. There was only one way to get to Logan’s physical therapy, and it required passing Rick’s place. As expected, my caretaker was brooding in the middle of the road.
    “You’re going to see him,” Rick accused. His breath fogged the glass of my window. I pressed the button to roll it down.
    “We’ve been over this. I’m a nurse, and Logan’s my friend. I’m helping with his recovery. That’s all. I promised him I would, and I intend to see it through.”
    The line of Rick’s jaw hardened and his eyes bled to black. “I don’t like it. He wants you Grateful. He always has.”
    I popped my chin into the air. Jeez. Rick’s jealousy hadn’t dulled at all over the last six weeks. Tough cookies. I wouldn’t go back on my word. “Then I suppose you’ll just have to trust me.”
    “It’s him I don’t trust. I take care of what’s mine.”
    I rolled my eyes and leaned away from him. “You don’t own me.” I wanted to add that we weren’t even exclusive, but I was afraid it would start an argument that would make me late. As it was Rick looked like he wanted to punch something.
    I rolled the window back up.
     
    * * * * *
    S t. John’s Rehabilitation Center is attached to the hospital, a state of the art facility with physical therapy, massage, and acupuncture. When I walked in the front door, Logan was already in the waiting area, his cane propped against his leg. Thinner than he had been as a ghost, his physique had come a long way over the last six weeks. The outline of long, lean muscle was visible under his clingy athletic shirt. He’d shaved the beard he’d grown while in the coma, but left his hair a little longer than it had been in his spectral state.
    His smile was the same as always. “Grateful, you came.”
    “Wouldn’t miss it.” I handed him the drink. When he took it from me, he grabbed the bottle right above my hand, engulfing my fingers in his. He didn’t immediately pull the goods away. I retracted my hand and placed it safely on my hip. “How are you feeling today, anyway?”
    “Good. Right hip is still giving out on me occasionally. I think another couple of months of this, and I’ll be able to resume some normal activities.”
    “Another couple of months?”
    “Yeah.” He tipped back the sports bottle, and I watched green liquid slosh into his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut against the taste and chugged.
    I popped out a hip, my bottom jaw jutting forward in an exaggerated pout. “That’s funny because I heard you’re going back to work at Valentine’s this weekend.”
    He choked on a swallow. In a fit of coughing, his hand lashed out to cover his mouth and knocked over his cane. Face red, he set the sports bottle down on the side table and really