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Jami had drained his strength with her earth-shattering orgasms. His own had wrecked him, and they’d only cuddled for the rest of the day. Jami had agreed to spend the night. Spooning her against his body was his newest addiction.
There had been a wariness to her gaze the next morning, one he hoped would be soothed by his continued silence. He wanted to announce to the world how deeply in love with her he was, but he could respect her need for time instead. Jami was in love with him as well. Why the idea frightened her, he could readily imagine. Raneer had pushed his love on her again and again, taking what he wanted from her even when she didn’t share her love in return.
Jami approached Malcolm shortly before opening time, her fingers twisting together in front of her. “Can we talk?”
He nodded. “Of course.” His hand reached for her hair, tucking it behind her ear just as his cell phone rang. He had a special program that unmuted just for his cousin’s number.
“I—” Jami started, but Malcolm had already lifted the phone to answer.
“Sorry, Jami, one second. What’s wrong, Celia?” he asked, turning away from Jami as he listened.
Celia pulled in a shaky breath. “How did you know?”
Malcolm wondered if she didn’t realize she only called when things were falling apart. Otherwise, she would text or he would call her. “Celia,” he murmured, his ears straining to hear how upset she was.
“Trenton would want me to call him, but he’s in the courtroom today.” A muffled sob followed, and Malcolm pictured her hand over her mouth as she tried to keep it contained.
He patted his pocket for his keys as he headed for the pass-through. “I’m heading over.”
“You don’t—”
“I’m heading over, Celia,” he interrupted her. His mind raced at the possibilities that could have made her call right before lunch service. He jerked open the tavern door, flipping the sign to ‘Closed.’
“Thanks,” Celia said and hung up.
Malcolm wished she had stayed on the line. He shoved his phone in his pocket. He’d get the details out of her soon enough. “Reggie!” he shouted, waiting for his cook to shift into the window. “Lunch service is canceled,” he said, but Reggie just waved him on.
Malcolm’s gaze paused as it landed on Jami.
“Is she okay?” Jami asked, her fingers clenched together even harder than before.
Malcolm’s lips pressed together. “I’ll find out.” He pulled the tavern’s door shut behind him as he raced to the truck.
The front door was unlocked when he arrived at their house, which worried him even more. Celia sat huddled on the couch, her legs pulled up and her head pushed into the cushion.
“Celia,” he murmured before placing his hand gently on her back.
She turned her face toward him. The paleness of her skin sent a tendril of fear through Malcolm. Her hand shifted, still clutching the phone. “I called the doctor. Will you take me to the hospital?”
Malcolm scooped her up, already striding for the door. His heart thudded as he realized she still didn’t weigh much more than she had a few months ago.
Celia stiffened against him, her hand moving to her mouth. “Wait. Let me grab something.”
His arms tightened. “Are you nauseous?” he asked.
Celia ducked her head. “What if I throw up in your truck?”
He managed to pull the door shut behind him as his steps quickened. “You know better than to worry about that.”
“The seats,” Celia protested, but he was already buckling her in.
After he backed out of the driveway, he reached over to wrap her hand in his. “How bad is it?”
“My stomach is in knots.” Her voice sounded tiny. He risked a glance from the road. In the sunlight, she looked even more pale, but the skin looked puffy under her tightly shut eyes. Her lips twisted in a grimace. “My head is pounding. I swear I was resting.”
Malcolm slowed for the red light, glancing both ways before driving through it. “I know you have been.” His lips thinned as he remembered his father questioning her presence in the tavern Thursday night. “This isn’t your fault.” He rubbed his fingers along the rubber band on her wrist, even more worried when he realized how it pressed into her puffy skin there when it was normally loose. Knowing there was little he could do except get her to the hospital as fast as he could, he prayed for more green lights.
He pulled up to the ER, hopping out to run inside and call for help. He explained as much as he could, and some nurses came out with a wheelchair to get her. Malcolm placed her in it himself. When he began to follow them, someone pressed a hand to his chest. “The truck can’t stay there.”
