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“Gio, it’s five-thirty in the morning. Why are you up?” Franc grabbed his pants, yanking them on with quick tugs.
“I don’t feel good.”
Franc inhaled and thrust his hand through his hair. The sound of vomit spewing echoed through the house.
“For fuck’s sake.” Franc stormed toward the door, and I quickly grabbed the discarded sheet, wrapping it around me like a human burrito.
He flung the door open and scooped Gio into his arms in one smooth motion.
“I’m sorry.” Gio’s voice cracked with a sniffle.
“You don’t have to apologize for being sick.”
Gio’s little head fell back, his eyes locking on mine. My heart stuttered, and a rush of panic flooded my veins.
“Why is Quinn in your bed? Does her tummy hurt, too?”
Shit. Gio saw me. So much for easing into things and giving us time together before making any declarations.
Since my cover was blown, and sneaking out of the house was a pointless feat, I slipped into my clothes, grabbed some cleaning products, and got to work on the Jackson Pollock of sick in the hallway.
Poor kid. He probably caught something at the playground. Kids were like petri dishes, always carrying some sort of bug.
“You didn’t have to clean that,” Franc said, coming down the hall from Gio’s room.
“I don’t mind. Besides, Gio needs you.”
“He’s in bed. Got him a bucket, though his aim sucks. Also got a damp compress on his head and some ginger ale. Probably just a stomach bug. I hope neither of us get it.”
I tossed the latex gloves I put on in the garbage bag and stood. “I’ll make my mom’s chicken soup. She always made it for me when I was sick. Though I usually just ate the Saltine crackers.”
“I should call in.” He thrust his hand through his hair. “I can’t. Today the interns are learning about chemical adjustment, and it’s my area of expertise. I have to be there.”
“Go to work,” I insisted. “I can handle Gio.”
“But he’s my kid, and he’s sick. I should be home with him.”
“You’re a working parent, and there is nothing wrong with having responsibilities and obligations. That doesn’t make you a bad parent. My mom worked when I was a kid, even when I was sick. I’m sure your parents did, too. And it’s not like you’re leaving him with some stranger. You’re leaving him with me.”
“You sure you’re not some guardian angel sent here by my grandfather?”
“I’m definitely no angel.” I fluttered my eyelashes, then met his gaze with the heated desire he stirred inside me, and he groaned.
“I’m sorry we were interrupted,” he said. “I was hoping to see that bad side of you again.”
“You will. Later. In the meantime, I’m going to go home, shower, and get some things from the grocery store. I’ll be back before you leave.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Go, be with Gio. I’ll see you soon.” I lifted my toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. His arms came up around me and held me close. I savored the warmth of his bare chest for a moment. He kissed my forehead and pulled away.
“See you soon,” he said and headed into his son’s room.
It had been two days since Quinn’s car floated down Chicken Valley Road. So, when my phone rang with Bill’s number flashing on my screen, relief spread through me.
“What news do you have for me?” I asked Bill as I motioned to Rhone I had to step out.
“I wish I could say it’s good news,” Bill said, and I braced myself for the damage report.
