6. Briar

The Stop n'Shop was small by any normal standards, but the cheerfully packed aisles yawned before Briar like a horrifying maze.His head throbbed, and the fluorescent lights stabbed right through his eyeballs like little daggers.The chill from the freezer section triggered a chain reaction of goosebumps. That was when he realized he probably had a fever.

"Feed a cold, starve a fever," he muttered under his breath, pulling a brightly colored can off the shelf and squinting at the label.

That was what his foster mother used to say, anyway.Not that she"d ever bothered to feed them much.Even now, Briar was more likely to treat illness with a twinkie scavenged from the back of the kitchen cabinet than with fluids and Tylenol.But he was trying to do better.Be better. Reboot his life. It all started with good choices.

"What did you say?" Nate's concern rumbled from the phone Briar had wedged between his shoulder and ear.

"Nothing." Briar scanned the shelves, dizzy from the confusing array of products."How do this many kinds of soup even exist?"

"Chicken," Nate said. "You want chicken."

"I'm not an idiot, you know."

"You sure you're okay? You were really struggling on rounds today."

"Fine." Briar braced himself against the shelves and hung his head until a wave of dizziness passed."Just trying to figure out which of these soups won"t taste like ass.Candace was helping, but she ducked behind the cash register as soon as I sneezed.Then she refused to come near me."

"You should've let me give you a ride home, at least," Nate said with a sigh."I wouldn't have left you on your own if I"d known how quickly you were going to go downhill."

"I'm fine," Briar repeated, but he ruined it with a congested cough."Besides, you said Tucker is sick too."

"Yeah, but—"

"But you should be with him," Briar interrupted, trying to keep his tone light."I'm a big boy. Wink, wink."

The sound of Nate grinding his teeth rattled down the line, and Briar laughed despite himself.

"Don't worry," Briar assured him."I never get really sick. I can sleep this off.I"m still planning to check on the in-patients this weekend."

"Okay," Nate agreed reluctantly, "but promise me that you'll call if you need anything."

"Sure," Briar agreed, hanging up distractedly and wrinkling his nose at the soup can he still gripped in his clammy fingers.Was turmeric spicy?His head hurt too much for rational decision-making.

Just as he was about to drop the can into his basket, a huge, callused hand reached down and plucked it from his grasp.Briar frowned stupidly. He was pretty sure the hand didn"t belong to him, but his brain was so sluggish he needed to confirm it by tracking the corded forearm all the way up to its granite-faced owner.

"This is crap." Derek"s voice was much gruffer than Briar remembered.He pointed to the nutrition facts on the label, but it might as well have been a foreign language.He selected a can with a bright green label and tossed it into Briar"s basket."This one's better."

Briar's eyebrows puckered with confusion.He knew he should object to the high-handed attitude, but that seemed like it would take too much energy.

"Thanks for the…unsolicited advice," he said.

Derek's eyes flickered. He studied him closely, taking in Briar"s flushed cheeks and trembling hands."You look awful," he noted flatly.

"Sharp observation," Briar shot back, flushing with embarrassment—because Derek didn't look awful at all.

He looked mouthwateringly good even when he was filthy and sweaty, with grease-stained skin and a rip in the hem of his white t-shirt.It wasn't his face. His features were as harsh and forbidding as Briar remembered, despite the way the fluorescent lights picked out glints of gold in his dark stubble.It was something more subtle than that.A flavor of raw, masculine strength in the air that surrounded him.Briar could practically taste it.

"Princess is ready to be picked up," he blurted."I left you a message."

"Didn't get it," Derek said shortly.He was moving down the aisle, collecting an assortment of crackers, ginger ale, and orange juice before dropping them into Briar's basket.Just as Briar's aching biceps began to cramp from the added weight, Derek reached down and took the basket from him.

"What are you doing?" Briar croaked, trailing after him on wobbly legs.

"Helping." Derek didn't even glance at him.He was too busy choosing a box of plain white rice for his growing hoard.

Briar hesitated, considering his monstrous frame and wondering if he had the strength to pry the basket out of his arms.Derek glanced at him, as if sensing the direction of his thoughts, and Briar flinched.

Those eyes were so intense. Like nothing he'd ever seen.

"I'm not going to be able to carry all that back home," he protested weakly.

"Where's your car?"

"Mine? Probably parked beneath a mountain of garbage somewhere off MLK Boulevard." He gave a froggy little laugh at Derek's confusion."My ex took it."

Derek's eyes narrowed, but all he said was, "I'll give you a lift home."

"I don't need any help!"

"Could've fooled me." Derek snorted."You're a hot mess. Leaving you floundering around here would be like driving past a car crash and not stopping."

"But we barely know each other." And their previous interaction hadn't been what he'd call friendly.

Derek finally stopped collecting packs of cold medicine to focus on him.Briar wished he would stop looking directly at him.It felt like getting hit with a brick.His heart began to race.

"You don"t get it, kid." Derek's tone was surprisingly gentle."This is the difference between a small town and that big city of yours.It doesn"t matter if we know each other.Not here."

"How can it not matter?"

Derek shrugged. "It"s just being neighborly."

His concern seemed genuine. No matter how closely Briar searched his expression, he couldn"t find any trace of hidden motive.Besides, what choice was there?Briar"s fever was raging by this point, no matter what he'd told Nate, and he was barely managing to stay on his feet.

"Okay," he said grudgingly, "but just a ride."

"What else would it be?" Derek headed for the register without looking back, as if he just assumed Briar would follow like a puppy on a leash.Which he did. He was shivering by the time they hit the parking lot.A wash of muggy evening air slapped him in the face, instantly inflating his sinuses like balloons.

Sweetwater still hadn't completely dried out from the storms of the past few weeks, but the temperature was already warming.A dim purple gloom was beginning to stretch across the parking lot, and the streetlights flickered to life one-by-one.

Briar stumbled along with his head down, like a tired horse, barely watching where he was going.Every step took effort. Beside him, Derek was all easy confidence, his tall frame throwing a long shadow on the asphalt.He was able to carry all the shopping bags in one hand.His free hand hovered suspiciously close to Briar"s elbow, ready to catch him if he fell.If Briar wasn"t so desperately close to needing it, he might have been insulted.

"Car's this way," Derek rumbled, nodding toward an old...Chevy Astro?

Briar climbed inside and slid across the passenger seat, but something grabbed at his jeans.He picked off a strand of chewing gum with a grimace."I think this is the same van the wet bandits used in Home Alone," he cracked.

"It belongs to my sister."

"Sure." Briar nodded.

Derek's eyes narrowed. "It does."

Of course, it did. Briar had seen his truck the other night.Even he could tell it was a classic.But he was kind of enjoying this crazy, suicidal impulse to tease.It was probably a sign of delirium.Joking around with Derek Owens felt like taking his life in his hands.The guy did an excellent impression of a backwoods ogre, and Briar was the size of a child's toy.

And yet, as Derek eased the van out of the parking lot, Briar feltstrangelysafe.Derek was a calm, steady presence in a world that felt precarious even on a good day.The glare of the Stop n' Shop's neon sign melted into the darkness, and the rustle of Derek behind the wheel was almostsoothing.

Before Briar knew it, he was nodding off in hisseat.