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“I love you,” he murmured.
“I love you, too,” I replied and squeezed back. Then, I pulled my hand away and got up, leaving the bedroom so I could get him some aspirin and water. I padded down the hallway and peeked into Sophie’s bedroom, where she was sleeping soundly. I decided to go inside and check on her and when I got to her bedside, I felt her forehead and got a shock. She felt hot to touch.
I bent down and pressed my lips against her forehead and sure enough, she felt distinctly hot.
Since she was sleeping well enough, I left the bedroom and went downstairs to the medicine cabinet. In addition to the aspirin and glass of water, I took the ear thermometer with me and returned to the second floor.
I went into the bedroom and put the aspirin and water on the bedside table.
“Sophie feels hot,” I announced, and felt a surge of unease go through me now that I said it out loud. “I’m going to take her temperature.”
Drake pulled the pillow away, a frown on his forehead.
“What?” he said and sat up. “She’s got a fever?”
“I haven’t checked yet, but I’m going to,” I said and held up the thermometer.
“Give that to me,” he said and downed his aspirin and water. “I’ll do it.”
“You’re the doctor,” I said and forced a smile.
Drake slipped out of bed and pulled on some boxer briefs, before taking the thermometer out of my hand. I followed him to Sophie’s bedroom.
I didn’t like the idea that Sophie was hot. It was cool in her room – not cold but not too warm either. We hadn’t had any visitors to give her any kind of virus – except for Karen but she had been fine.
Once inside, Drake bent down and kissed her forehead the way I had.
“She does feel warm,” he said in a soft voice. Then he tilted her head to the side and placed the tip of the ear thermometer into Sophie’s tiny ear. He activated the thermometer and it flashed briefly into her ear. Sophie stirred but didn’t wake up. She merely sucked more intently on her pacifier for a moment.
Drake examined the thermometer.
“She has a fever. It’s pretty mild, but it’s up a degree.”
He looked at me in the dimness of the room. “It’s probably a simple virus. She’ll be fine,” he said, but his voice wavered a tiny bit. Of course, my mind went to the worst thing that it could be – influenza or one of the childhood illnesses. She’d been vaccinated, her first shots, but that only gave her partial protection.
Drake put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me out of the room. “Whatever it is, we should let her sleep. Come out and bring the baby monitor to the living room so we can listen in.”
I nodded and went to the bedroom, retrieving the monitor so we could listen to her while she slept, in case she woke up or was having difficulty breathing.
Drake went right to the shower, so I went downstairs to the kitchen and made some decaf coffee and started to cook some bacon for our breakfast. My father always told me that you need something hearty after a night drinking to fight the hangover, so I thought a good British breakfast would help Drake recover. I sliced tomatoes, popped in some toast, heated up a small can of baked beans, and then cut up some leftover baked potatoes in butter. It would be a feast.
Drake came downstairs in his sweats, his chest still bare, toweling his hair.
“That smells fantastic,” he said and bent over to kiss my cheek. He went to the baby monitor on the island and upped the sound, then turned to me, forcing a smile. “I checked on her again and she’s sleeping quietly. No need to worry.”
“But you turned the sound up anyway, right?” I said, and exhaled, trying not to get too nervous.
“All babies get sick eventually,” he said and sat at the island. He draped the towel over his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it with his fingers. He looked delicious, sitting there half dressed, his hair wet, his cheeks a bit rosy from the heat of the shower.
If I hadn’t been busy cooking, and if he didn’t have a hangover, I’d have wanted to go back to bed with him, see what developed, but not that morning. Instead, I admired him, my eyes lingering over his well-developed chest and abs, and the tiny trail of dark hair than led from his navel beneath his sweats. God, he was gorgeous…
“What’s on the agenda for today?” I asked, flipping the bacon over and moving the potatoes around in the frying pan.
“I’m going to spend the entire day with my two favorite people,” he said and drank some of the orange juice I’d squeezed. “The three of us, all day. No corporation, no foundation, no surgery. Just us.”
I sighed and turned to face him. “I’m sorry that your board members felt the need to kick you off the boards. I think it’s highly unfair.”
“It’s all about perception. I don’t want their reputations to be harmed by association. The most important part of the corporation and foundation is what they do, not my part in them.”
