“I can’t stop scratching,” Presley muttered as they loaded into the waiting SUV to go home. “I’ve never had lice, but I think maybe I have them now. Did your guys get the shampoo?”
“Stop saying lice,” Cruz hissed at her as he scratched the top of his head.
“It’s what they are!” She peered at him carefully, “I can’t help but think of how you hugged your assistant while she was crying.”
“You cannot be jealous.”
“No! I’m not jealous. I mean Ramona kept their heads pretty tight together. Then you hugged the poor girl while she came apart, and rightly so,” she glared at him, “but your heads were close and if one of those things crawled from Ramona to her and it crawled to you, you might have lice.” She paused. “I hope she is okay.”
“She is going to be fine. Her husband was meeting her at t
