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“Baby doll, you’re killing me here,” he grumbled.
“Sorry.” She wiped at her cheeks with her free hand. “Sorry. I’m good. I’m fine. I was just worried about you when you didn’t come back from the airport. And then Andrey and the others turned up in an Uber. Then I got a call from the hospital to say you’d been in a car accident. But when we got there, they wouldn’t tell us what was going on. I was just . . . scared.”
“Hey, hey, hush. I’m fine,” he said in a raspy voice.
Shoot. She had to stop talking. The last thing he needed was her crying and upsetting him. It was time that Millie took care of him rather than the other way around.
So get it together, girl.
“Come here.” He tugged at her hand.
She stared down at him, not quite understanding what he wanted. “I am here.”
“No, get up on the bed so I can hold you.”
Her eyes widened. “Daddy, I can’t get on the bed with you.”
He was injured. And the bed was tiny. He took up most of the space on it already. There was definitely no room for her even if she wanted to get up on it.
“Baby doll. Up. With. Me.”
“Quillon, she’s worried about hurting you,” Damon said reasonably. “Let her sit in the chair beside you.”
Spike looked like he was going to argue.
“Please, Daddy. You’ve got a concussion and the doctor said you’re bruised. I don’t want to hurt you further.”
“You won’t.”
“And I don’t want to get kicked out of the hospital when they find me lying in the bed with you.”
His face darkened. “I’d like to see them try.”
Shoot. She wasn’t doing well at keeping his stress levels down. Or her own.
“Easy, man,” Damon told Spike as he gently pressed her shoulders to get her to sit in the chair. “She just wants to do what’s best for you.”
“What’s best for me is to hold her,” Spike grumbled. “She’s upset.”
“Because she’s worried about your ugly mug,” Damon shot back.
Spike turned his head toward her, wincing.
“Careful. Don’t hurt yourself,” she cautioned.
He squeezed her hand. “Baby, you aren’t going to hurt me. You could never.”
A sob escaped her despite her best efforts to smother it. “I thought you’d died. I didn’t know what had happened. Reverend Pat and the others turned up in an Uber and then we got a call for a hospital. I was so scared.”
“Fuck, I forgot I was on my way to pick them up. Are they okay?”
“They’re fine. You’re the one we’re all worried about.”
“Then stop,” he said firmly. “I’m fine.”
“You were in a car accident. You have a concussion and bruises.”
Damon put his hands on her shoulders, squeezing lightly. Shit. She shouldn’t be upsetting Spike. And if he saw she was upset, then he was going to be too.
