Summer of Love Marie Ferrarella (easy books to read in english TXT) 📖

“You sure don’t make things easy, do you, Lila?” he asked.

He decided he needed to find the right key and open the front door before carrying her out of his car. If he was lucky, she might even wake up by the time he discovered which of the keys fit the front door lock. And awake, she might be able to walk—with some help—to the house. That would eliminate some complications, like nosy neighbors, he thought.

Everett went up the front walk to her door and patiently started trying out keys.

The very last key turned out to be the one to open her front door.

“It figures,” he murmured.

Everett went inside the house and flipped on the first light switch he found. The darkness receded.

At least he could find his way around, he thought.

Leaving the front door standing open, he pocketed the key ring and went back to the car.

Lila was still unconscious.

Unbuckling her seat belt, Everett found that the clothes she was wearing were all practically soaked.

“You’re sweating this flu out,” he told her. “As a doctor, I know that’s a good thing. But I’d still feel a lot better if you opened your eyes.” He looked at her, half hoping that the sound of his voice would somehow make her come around. But it didn’t. “Nothing, huh?” He sighed.

The next moment, Everett took her purse and slung the straps onto his shoulder. Then he lifted her up carefully and carried her to her front door.

“If any of your neighbors are watching this, Lila, we should be hearing the sound of police sirens approaching very shortly. For both our sakes, I hope you have the kind of neighbors who keep their curtains drawn and mind their own business, at least this one time.”

The wind had caused the door to close a little but he managed to shoulder it open.

Like a groom carrying his bride over the threshold, he carried Lila into the house. Once inside, he closed the door with his back, making a mental note to lock it as soon as he found some place to put Lila down.

Looking around, Everett found himself standing in a small, sparsely decorated living room.

“You never were one for a lot of possessions,” he commented, scanning the room.

He saw a tan sectional sofa facing a medium-size flat-screen TV mounted on the opposite wall. Crossing over to it, Everett gently placed Lila on the sofa, leaving her there for the moment. Going back, he locked the front door and then walked around the single-story house, orienting himself. Like the living room, everything was in place and neatly arranged.

“Anyone here?” Everett called out, although he took the darkened state of the house to indicate that it was empty.

He continued to make his way through the house, looking into each room. There were two bedrooms located in the back across from one another. One was larger than the other. He took the smaller one to be a guest bedroom. Looking into it, he found that it was empty. There were no clothes in the closet.

Apparently, Lila did live alone.

His smile vanished after a moment. This wasn’t good, he thought. She was sick and she needed someone here to take care of her.

With a sigh, he went back to the living room. She was right where he’d left her—and still unconscious. He thought of his medical bag in his trunk.

“First things first,” he told himself. Picking Lila up again, he said to her, “I need to get you out of these wet clothes and into bed.” He caught himself smiling as he carried her to what he had determined to be her bedroom. “There was a time that would have meant something entirely different. But don’t worry, I’ve got my ‘doctor hat’ on and you have nothing to worry about.”

As attracted as he still was to her, his first thought was about her health. He wanted to get Lila well again.

Bringing Lila into the larger bedroom, he managed to move aside the comforter and put her down on the queen-size bed. He took off her shoes and then began going through the drawers of her bureau, looking for a nightgown or something that looked as if she wore it to bed.

Moving a few things aside, he froze when he came across an old college jersey.

His old college jersey.

He remembered when he’d given it to her. He’d told her that when she wore it, she’d be close to him. Taking it out now, he looked at the jersey for a long moment, then at her.

“You actually kept it,” he said in disbelief. “And judging by how faded it is, you’ve been wearing it. Maybe this isn’t as hopeless as I thought,” he murmured under his breath, referring to his plan to get back together with her.

Moving quickly, Everett removed the rest of her clothes and slipped the college jersey on her. Done, he tucked Lila into bed as if he was tucking in a child. He refused to allow himself to become distracted. Right now, Lila was his patient, not the only woman he had ever loved.

“I’ll be right back,” he told her even though she was still unconscious and couldn’t hear him. “I’m going to bring in the food and get my medical bag out of the trunk.”

He was back in a few minutes, leaving the to-go bags on the kitchen table for the time being. He had something far more important on his mind than food, despite the fact that his stomach kept rumbling in protest over being neglected.

Opening up his medical bag, Everett took out his stethoscope and several other basic instruments he never went anywhere without. Then he gave Lila a quick but thorough exam to confirm what he pretty much already suspected.

Her pulse was rapid, her temperature was high and, at one point, as he conducted his examination, she began to shiver.

“Chills,” he noted. “And you were already displaying signs of fatigue this morning. You, Lila Clark, are a regular poster child for the