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It was Tickles, the bear.
How had he gotten here?
There was only one way . . . Hux must have bought him for her. She picked him up, hugging him tight. Okay, that made her feel better.
Maybe Hux wasn’t upset or angry at her.
He couldn’t be if he’d left her Tickles, right?
Her bladder let out a protest. Shoot. Time to find a toilet. She slid off the bed and shuffled over to a door.
But halfway there, she got distracted by the cupboards along one wall. It wouldn’t hurt to have a little peek, right?
She moved over to the cupboards, and managed to open them even with her hands trapped in the mittens, finding all sorts of toys inside. She gasped in delight as she found the most beautiful doll she’d ever seen in her life. It was wearing an old-fashioned dress and pinafore and had glossy hair pinned back.
She drew it out and hugged it carefully.
“Hello, dolly. Do you want to be my friend?”
Okay. Seemed her Little side was totally out. She sat on the fluffy rug with the doll. Hmm, maybe she should do her hair.
Chloe searched through the containers, ignoring the pains in her lower tummy.
“Here we are! Let’s get your hair done, dolly. I wonder what your name is.”
“Her name is whatever you want to call her, Blue.”
She let out a squeak of shock, then groaned as she had to press her thighs together.
“What is it? What’s wrong? Does something hurt?” Judd rushed toward her, looking worried.
“No. Nothing.” Nothing except she was an idiot. She’d gotten up to pee and had become distracted by a doll.
“Don’t lie to me,” Judd growled. “That’s something I’ll never forgive.”
It was a hit to the stomach. Because she was lying in a way . . . but was it a lie? Sure, she hadn’t told them that Jonathan wanted her to distract them. But she truly wanted to be here.
Oh, she was a mess. She really needed to say something.
But what would Jonathan do? She owed him so much.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Judd commanded.
“Toilet,” she managed to say, feeling her face growing red. “Now.”
To her shock, he lifted her into his arms and held her cradled against his chest as he turned and rushed out the door. He walked into a room across the hall. Was this his room?
He moved quickly to another door and opened it.
A bathroom.
Thank the Lord.
He set her down in front of the toilet and she attempted to pull at the onesie. Panic flooded her. Where was the zip? Shoot! Her hands were still in mittens.
“I can’t . . . I can’t . . .” This was mortifying.
“Shh, let me. I’ll help you, Baby Blue.”
“I can’t hold on! And I have nothing on underneath!” she wailed.
“There’s a drop seat. Just wait a second.” He reached around behind her and undid the drop seat, pulling it down and then settling her on the toilet.
To her utter horror, before he could move back, she was peeing.
This was . . . horrible.
She leaned over, putting her hands over her face.
Judd stared down at Chloe. She was hunched over as though protecting herself from a blow. But he couldn’t figure out what was wrong.
Was she still in pain?
“Chloe? Hey, it’s all right. Are you okay?”
“Nooo, I’m never going to be okay again.”
He raised his eyebrows at her dramatic tone. That wasn’t like her at all. But then again . . . he didn’t exactly know her, right?
Of all of them, he was on the back foot. He hadn’t expected Beck to jump in with both feet like he had. He was usually more cautious. But it seemed he was firmly in Camp Chloe.
Owen . . . well, that fucking bastard had surprised them all.
He was obsessed.
Judd wasn’t sure yet whether that was a good thing or not. With Owen, one never fucking knew. And Judd had known him since they were twelve. He’d never been like this before.
Hux . . . well, once he drew his head out of his ass, he’d have no problem winning her back. He was the one with charm.
Judd was the problem. The asshole. Temperamental. Grouchy. He knew it. Trouble was, he didn’t really know how to be any different. His gauge was always set to expecting the worst.
So right now, his mind was going through all sorts of bad scenarios.
“I’ll call Obian. Fuck. Are you bleeding? Is it sharp pains? Give me something here, Blue!”
“I’m peeing!”
Huh?
“Uh, yeah. Isn’t that why you’re on the toilet? Does it burn?”
She finally moved her hands away from her eyes to gape at him. “Does it burn?”
“Well, does it?”
“No! It doesn’t burn.”
He couldn’t understand why she seemed so upset by that question.
“Could you . . . could you please leave so I can clean myself up?” she asked.
“You might need some help.”
