Avery reclined on the plush bed in Ryan guestroom, a soft blanket tucked around her legs. She was still adjusting to the idea of staying at Ryan’s place while she recovered from the car accident, but he had insisted on taking care of her.
“You’re on bed rest,” he’d said firmly the day she was discharged from the hospital. “No arguments. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
And true to his word, Ryan had been doting on her ever since.
The door creaked open, and Ryan appeared, balancing a tray of food with a cheeky grin. “Room service for the lovely Ms. Deveraux,” he announced, setting the tray down on the bedside table with an exaggerated bow.
Avery laughed softly, wincing slightly at the movement. “What’s on the menu today?”
“Only your favorites,” he said, lifting the lid off the plate with a flourish. “Mac and cheese with truffle oil and extra cheese—because nothing heals better than carbs—and a side of garlic bread, because why not?”
Her eyes lit up at the sight of the comfort food, her stomach growling in response. “Ryan, you’re spoiling me.”
“Of course I am,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Avery Kane doesn’t settle for mediocre, not even in recovery.”
Avery rolled her eyes but smiled, picking up the fork he handed her. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“And yet, here you are,” he teased, reaching over to adjust the blanket around her legs.
As she ate, Ryan leaned back against the headboard, his hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, I have a joke for you.”
“Oh no,” Avery groaned, though she couldn’t help smiling. “Here we go.”
“What do you call a fake noodle?” Ryan asked, his tone overly serious.
Avery paused mid-bite, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know. What?”
“An impasta!” he declared, grinning from ear to ear.
Avery laughed, shaking her head. “That was terrible.”
“Terribly funny,” Ryan corrected, clearly pleased with himself. “Admit it, you loved it.”
“Sure,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Best joke of the century.”
“Thank you, thank you,” Ryan said, pretending to bow. “I’ll be here all week.”
Later that afternoon, Ryan disappeared for a while, leaving Avery to rest. When he returned, he was carrying a small bouquet of fresh flowers—an assortment of soft pink peonies, delicate white lilies, and cheerful yellow daisies.
“For you,” he said, holding them out to her with a shy smile. “Thought you could use a little brightness in your room.”
Avery’s heart melted as she took the bouquet, the sweet scent filling the air. “Ryan, these are beautiful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, pulling a small vase from behind his back. “And before you ask, yes, I bought the vase too. I figured you might not have one lying around.”
Avery laughed, watching as he carefully arranged the flowers on the nightstand. “You think of everything, don’t you?”
“Only when it comes to you,” he said, turning back to her with a grin.