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"Uovely place you've got," he says, nodding in approval as he hands me the yellow-colored tulips he brought. "These are for you," he smiles. "I heard the chief say you aren't feeling too well, so I volunteered to check on you. The boys send their regards," he says as I lead him to the couch.
"AwwJ that's sweet," I say, sning the Powers.
How does he know yellow is my favorite color?
"And how are you feeling now?" he looks concerned as he searches my face.
"A little better than this morning, but my throat hurts like cra5y," I say.
"Sorry about that," he replies.
There is a brief silence in the atmosphere.
"I took care of Mommy," Octavia says to 2ick suddenly, looking very proud.
"Is that so?" 2ick asks. He stands up from the couch and joins her on her play mat.
"Yes! I even made my lunch," she smiles at him.
"8ood job! *ut one in," he raises his hand for a high ’ve. Octavia claps him, and they both laugh. "You are indeed Mommy's angel." "Can I get you anything?" I ask 2ick as I stand to my feet to get a vase for the Powers.
"I'm good. We had a heavy lunch at the station," he assures. "Alright," I walk to the kitchen to grab a vase. I see the mess Octavia made from her attempt to make her lunch. There is water on the Poor, dirty bowls, and pieces of her cereal on the table and Poor. The kitchen is a mess.
Bless her heart, but who is going to clean this? Not me! Not today!I start to feel a little di55y. I pour myself a glass of water and drink. I walk to the living room to see 2ick and Octavia playing together with her toys. It is such a beautiful sight. Since my dad died, Octavia hasn't had any male ’gure in her life. I'm glad 2ick is here to give her that experience, however brief.
Did I mention how hot he looks playing with a Barbie doll? It's stupid, I know. But I haven't seen anything sexier than a man in uniform playing with a doll. The sound of their laughter gives me joy, and I don't want it to end. I watch them for a while as I drift asleep on the couch.
"Hey, sleepyhead. Wake up," a deep masculine voice echoes in my head.
"Hmmm," I stir in my sleep.
"Isabel, wake up," I feel a tap on my arm. Immediately, my eyes shoot open. I see 2ick kneeling in front of me. His golden brown eyes are full of compassion. "Sit up, Isabel. You need to eat something," he says.
"I don't have an appetite. I don't feel like eating," I whine.
"You have to eat, at least a little something," he says.
I look around the living room, and there is no trace of Octavia. My heartbeat ”uickens. "Where is my daughter?" I say, jumping up to my feet.
"I already put her to bed," he smiles, touching my arm to reassure me.
"Bed? What time is it?" I ask, walking down the hall to Octavia's room.
"A little past nine," he says, following me.
"2ineJp.m.?"
Wow, I was out cold.
I open Octavia's door to see my daughter sleeping peacefully with *erry, her tiger.
I gently shut the door and turned to 2ick. "Thank you so much, 2ick," I say, smiling despite my throat hurting.
"If you want to thank me, youLll eat!" he says ’rmly. "I made chicken soup. It should help your sore throat."
"You drive a hard bargain, detective. Wait, chicken soup? When?" I ask, looking confused.
"When you were fast asleep," he says.
