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“Are you all right?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think I am.”
“Damn, maybe you have it, too.”
“Have what?” She wasn’t making any sense.
“I should have told you before. I still haven’t kicked that stomach bug. That’s why I looked guilty when I came out of the bathroom. I’ve been telling you I’m all better, but I’m not yet.”
He put a hand on her shoulder. Even if she didn’t want him anymore, he needed to take care of her, make sure she was okay. He hated the thought of there being something seriously wrong with her.
“Please, can we go to the doctor tomorrow?”
She smiled. “You’d be proud of me. I called earlier and got an appointment for Thursday morning.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” He felt as though fate was tossing a coin that would decide his future. If she wanted him to go, he’d cancel his trip to Phoenix—maybe she wouldn’t want him speaking to her dad anyway.
She shook her head. “There’s no need. I’m a big girl. I’m sure it’s nothing serious; he’ll probably just give me an antibiotic.”
Grady came out and approached them with a smile. “Hey, boss man. I thought I saw you come in.”
Marcos stared at him. He couldn’t force himself to smile or speak.
“Is everything all right?”
Molly shrugged. “We’re okay. Would you mind closing up so we can go home?”
Grady smiled. “Of course. You guys go. I can take care of business.”
Marcos didn’t trust himself to speak. He couldn’t help wondering if Grady had been taking care of business with Molly. He hoped that was a crazy idea, but hearing what Grady had been saying … who else could he have been talking to?
Chapter Fifteen
Molly didn’t feel good at all when she woke up. Marcos was already up, no doubt in his office, checking on his numbers. She lay there for a moment, trying to muster the energy to roll out of bed and go get herself a cup of coffee. That first cup of the morning was usually enough to get her going, but just lately even that hadn’t helped much. If anything, it seemed to set her off. Now she thought about it, she’d been running for the bathroom each morning after her first sip. Maybe this morning she’d make herself a cup of tea.
She got up. She’d go and see if Marcos wanted one too. He’d been off last night. He’d seemed tense and down when he came in to pick her up. They’d barely talked on the way home, and when they’d gotten here, they’d come straight to bed—to sleep.
She padded through the house to his office. She smiled. The room had been her grandpa’s bedroom when she was small. Later it had been her mom’s sewing room. She’d quickly and happily adapted to thinking of it as Marcos’ office.
He looked up when she tapped on the door. “Good morning.”
“Morning.”
“Not a good one?” He still looked out of sorts—maybe he was coming down with this bug, too.
He shook his head. He didn’t seem like himself at all. “I don’t know. Is it?”
She smiled and went to sit on his lap, sliding her arms up around his neck. “I’d like it to be, wouldn’t you?”
“I’d love it to be a good morning, a good day, but I don’t want you to tell me it is if it isn’t.”
She frowned. “You’re talking in riddles. I don’t know what you mean. If you’re asking if I still feel shitty, then I guess the answer is yes, but that doesn’t have to stop it from being a good day. We can’t let it.”
He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He looked as though he was in pain. “Tell me why you feel shitty. It’s okay; I can handle it. I just need you to say it.”
She planted a kiss on his lips. “I don’t know why. I’m guessing it’s some kind of virus that I should have seen the doctor about straight away—like you said. I’m sure he’ll give me something, and I’ll be fine again in a few days. Why don’t you come with me? You seem off color.”
He shook his head. “I made plans to spend tomorrow with Cameron.”
