Knight In Black Leather Gail Dayton (classic books for 12 year olds .TXT) 📖

"What's on your program for today?" Joey leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs.

Marilyn refilled Eli's coffee cup, then her own. "I'll go out in a little to get Eli's prescriptions filled and see about renting a wheelchair. After that--" She shrugged. "I don't know. I have a class at the community college tonight, but I haven't decided if I'll go--"

"Go," Eli said. "I mean, if it's because of me you're not. I don't need a babysitter."

"What kind of class?" Joey asked.

"Flower arranging." She sipped her coffee, grinning at them with her eyes. "Hey, it gets me out of the house."

"So, go." Eli leaned back, putting on a "hot stud" act. "You can bring me flowers."

Marilyn laughed and ruffled up his hair as she stood to gather dishes. "That, sir, depends on whether you deserve flowers."

Eli claimed his coffee mug, protecting it from the sudden clearing-away frenzy.

Joey put the juice carton in the refrigerator and shrugged into his coat. "Okay, then. I'm off to deflect Mom."

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Marilyn frowned at him.

"I'm sick."

"Joey!" She reached for his ear, obviously intending pain, and he ducked away. Eli watched, fascinated. He didn't know brothers and sisters still did that kind of stuff after they grew up.

"I got extra time off." Joey laughed at her, zipping his coat. "To make up for all the overtime finishing that project last month."

"Okay, then."

"Okay. See ya round, Mare. Eli."

When Joey was gone, Eli watched Marilyn load the dishwasher, feeling not just useless, but damn useless. Not only was he unable to pitch in and help, he created more work for her. He couldn't even get himself into the bathroom on his own. And if he didn't stop drinking coffee this morning, he'd be in there a lot sooner.

Marilyn went to the pharmacy first, promising to return to see if he needed anything--like a bathroom break--before going to look for a wheelchair to rent. He also got her promise to use his money to pay for his medicine. Before she left, she plugged in the phone and set it beside him on the sofa "just in case."

So Eli made some calls, locating and reserving a wheelchair so Marilyn wouldn't have to drive all over town looking for one as she apparently intended to do. She looked surprised, then pleased when he handed her the note with the information on it. He felt better, not because of the pain pill he didn't take, but because he'd been of some use, no matter how small. He did take the antibiotic.

Then she was back. The wheelchair sat in the middle of the crowded room with both of them staring at it.

"How am I supposed to get from here," Eli gestured at the sofa where he sat, "into there? I'm open to suggestions."

"They gave me instructions." Marilyn sounded flustered. Eli had never known her to be at a loss, but then he hadn't known her for twenty-four hours yet. Still, it seemed unusual.

"I mean," she was saying, "they didn't write anything down on paper, they showed me how, what to do. But it seems different doing it for somebody with two good arms and legs with--" She gestured at her sweater, then at Eli. "Never mind. I just--I don't want to hurt you."

Eli glanced down at his still bare chest. Was it all the skin that bothered her? But she'd touched him already, put her arm around him every time he'd moved from one spot to another. He'd enjoyed every second of it, but he hadn't thought she particularly noticed that she had her hands on his naked skin. Could he make her notice?

"You won't hurt me." Eli leaned forward on the sofa. "How do we do this?"

"First, we move the chair closer, perpendicular to your position." Marilyn rolled it so close, the front almost touched his good knee. "Then we put on the brakes." She fiddled with something near the floor.

Eli leaned closer to see what she did. "Show me that again." He didn't see it clearly the first time, but more, he wanted close to her warmth, close enough he could breathe in her subtle scent, feel her hair brush against his cheek.

Marilyn worked a small lever up, then down again. "Got it?"

"One more time." He moved his unshaved cheek nearer her hair, enjoying the silken catch against his stubble.

She did as he asked, then backed away to look at him through narrowed eyes. "Are you paying attention, or flirting?"

"Can't I do both?" He tried to look innocent, though he was pretty sure he'd lost the knack years ago. "Can I reach that lever when I'm sitting in the chair? Seems pretty low."

"I think so. We'll check when we get you in it. Ready?"

Eli nodded and put his arm over her shoulders as Marilyn slid hers around his back. She lifted, he pushed off with his good leg and he started up with ease. But he didn't want perfection. He wanted her hands on him, so when he was almost upright, he overbalanced just a little.

"Whoa! Take it easy there." Marilyn tightened her arm, braced him with her other hand on his stomach.

He sucked in a breath. The touch of her warm hand against his skin there, just above his navel, hit him hard. But at his quick breath, she jerked her hand back.

"Sorry. Did I hurt you? I forgot about your bruises."

He stretched out the fingers emerging from his cast and managed to touch her hand, trying to put it back on his stomach. "No bruises there, but I wouldn't care if there was." He winked at her. "Feel free to touch me all you want. Anywhere you want. I won't object. Promise."

She swatted his butt. "Behave yourself."

"Oo, Mama. Do that again a little slower and I might."

"I thought we had that straight." Marilyn helped him pivot on one foot, so his butt was aimed at the chair. Now, as they faced each other, she held onto him with both