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She swallowed heavily, trying to convince herself that she wasn’t going to throw up.
She didn’t have time for a migraine right now.
The side of her face was tingling as her vision grew blurry. Meds. She needed her meds.
Were they upstairs?
Holy. Crap.
Why couldn’t she think?
Heaving herself off the sofa, she whimpered as a sharp pain sliced through her head. She’d been finishing off the invitations to her super-duper amazing Easter egg hunt.
This time without the glitter.
Because Spike was a total killjoy.
She’d intended to send them all out today. Spike was going to take them to Reapers to give to the guys and she’d been going to deliver one to Grady, Steele, and Effie.
Although she hadn’t told Spike that part.
She stumbled toward the stairs. Her migraine was coming on fast. Maybe she’d been pushing herself too hard with this Easter egg hunt?
Nah. That was foolish talk.
“Think, Millie,” she muttered to herself.
Oh God.
She was going to vomit. She rushed toward the downstairs bathroom, but didn’t make it in time. Instead, she sank to her knees in the hallway and vomited.
Yucky.
Shuffling away from the vomit, she lay down on her side and put her arms over her face, trying to block out the light.
Spike wasn’t going to be very happy when he got home. He hated when she got migraines.
She heard a low whine and glanced over to see a blurry-looking Mr. Fluffy standing beside her. He had her handbag in his mouth.
Why would he have my handbag? And did he really walk here all the way from the living room? Voluntarily?
Now that was a miracle.
Too bad he didn’t some thumbs so he could call Spike for her.
She really, really wanted her Daddy.
Spike walked into the house.
Instantly, he knew something was wrong. The house was just too quiet.
Which was very unlike Millie. There was always music or chatter or laughter. Even when she was by herself. Because she was usually talking away to the dog as though she thought he could understand her.
Hell, most of the time, Mr. Fluffy wasn’t even awake. Spike had never known a living creature to sleep that much.
The vet had done all types of tests on him.
And the diagnosis?
