Poppy Harmon and the Pillow Talk Killer by Lee Hollis (famous ebook reader .txt) 📗

already so close to finally getting rid of you.”

Poppy couldn’t suppress a chuckle.

“Yeah, she’s a real Ellen DeGeneres, this one,” Sam said.

“He’s all yours,” the nurse said. “Good luck.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll whip him into shape once I get him home,” Poppy promised.

Poppy positioned herself behind the wheelchair and pushed Sam out of the room and down the hall.

An orderly appeared to take over for Poppy. “Allow me, ma’am.”

“Oh, that’s okay . . .”

“Hospital policy,” he insisted.

Poppy shrugged and allowed the cute young orderly to take her place and push Sam’s wheelchair.

“They got a policy for everything around here!” Sam bellowed.

“Don’t forget to write!” the nurse yelled as she laughed and returned to her station.

“Don’t hold your breath!” Sam yelled back, then shifting in the chair as the orderly wheeled him into the elevator, he turned to Poppy. “You don’t have to hang around my place playing nursemaid, I’ll be fine on my own.”

“I was never going to stay at your cabin,” Poppy said.

“Oh, I thought you said . . .”

“You’re coming to my place.”

“What? No! You don’t have to take me all the way back to Palm Springs with you, that’s crazy.”

“It’s already settled. I’ve been by your cabin and packed you a bag. You have everything you need, and what you don’t have, I can pick up for you.”

“Poppy, I’m not an invalid. . . .”

“Now you listen to me, Sam Emerson, maybe you think you can get away with torturing the nurses with your miserable behavior, but I will not tolerate it, do you hear me?”

Sam, startled by her unusually stern tone, glanced up at the orderly behind him, who was trying to suppress a grin.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Before the orderly could wheel Sam out, Poppy stepped in front of the wheelchair, blocking their way. “You had a heart attack, Sam. You need ample time to recover. And you can’t be doing it all alone in some remote cabin in the woods. I won’t hear of it. So you’re moving in with me for a few weeks, whether you like it or not. And if you give me any trouble, I will call Nurse Ratched up here to come by and help me keep you in line. Do you understand?”

Sam, speechless, nodded.

“Now the first thing we’re going to do when we get to my house is write a nice thank-you card to all the good people who worked so hard taking care of you,” Poppy said, flicking her eyes to the orderly, who was now smiling ear from ear, impressed. “Starting with . . .”

“Rodrigo, ma’am” he said.

“Starting with Rodrigo. Thank you.”

Rodrigo nodded appreciatively and began to help Sam stand up, but Sam waved him off, preferring to do it himself.

Rodrigo grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and turned to go back inside. “You take care, Mr. Emerson.”

Sam grunted a reply.

“He’s usually much nicer, just wait until he makes a full recovery, you won’t recognize him,” Poppy called out to Rodrigo the orderly.

Poppy slid her arm through Sam’s to give him support. He flinched but didn’t pull away.

“I know, you like to be the big, strapping, strong man all the time, and you will be again, trust me,” Poppy said. “Just give it some time.”

“I just hate having to rely on other people to take care of me,” Sam whispered.

As they arrived at Poppy’s car and she gently assisted Sam into the passenger seat, his body stiff and bones creaky, Poppy tried to cheer him up. “If it makes you feel any better, you are doing me a big favor.”

“How’s that?” Sam asked, insisting on locking the seat belt into place without any help.

“The security company I hired still has not installed my burglar alarm and so I feel a lot safer having you around.”

Sam laughed. “You really don’t have to say that.”

“I will say anything that will get you down off this mountain and into bed at my house.”

Sam cocked an eyebrow, intrigued.

“That did not come out right,” Poppy said, cheeks reddening.

“What are you talking about? You just gave me all the incentive I need to will myself back to perfect health. It’s all about having something to look forward to,” Sam said with a wink.

And then Poppy slammed the car door shut on him.

Chapter 42

After preparing Sam a heart-healthy meal of salmon, sautéed garlic spinach, and mashed potatoes, washed down with one glass of Chardonnay, although she suspected Sam snuck a second glass while she was in the kitchen loading the dishwasher, Poppy prepared the guest room for Sam. She changed the sheets on the bed, provided him towels, and made sure his bathroom was fully stocked with all the necessary toiletries.

Sam remarked that Poppy was a shoo-in for a five-star review on TripAdvisor. As Sam undressed, Poppy headed to the kitchen to fetch him a glass of water so he could take his sleeping pill. Since his heart attack, Sam had been tossing and turning at night, unable to sleep for any long stretches, and so his doctor had prescribed him a pill to knock him out, and it had been mercifully working the past few nights.

When she returned with the water, she couldn’t help but notice Sam’s hand shaking as he gratefully took the glass from her and popped the pill into his mouth before chasing it down with the water. She could tell he was still in a fragile state, and his recovery was going to take longer than Sam was willing to admit, especially since he had already been chattering on at dinner about going hunting with some buddies back up in Big Bear next week. Poppy chose not to argue with him except to say quietly, “We shall see. . . .”

Sam smirked at the comment.

Poppy glanced around the room. “Do you have everything you need?”

“Almost,” he said playfully, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“There will be plenty of time for that once you have fully recovered,” Poppy said, extricating herself from his grip. “Which is