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Begrudgingly, I return my attention to my computer, shifting my reading glasses back up my nose. This acquisition contract I’m typing up is long, tedious, and boring as fuck. But it’s going to bring in about five-mill for us, so I gotta get my shit together and get it done.
I’m twenty minutes back into it when the elevator out in the lobby dings and I hear our receptionist dish out a warm welcome before she gasps.
“Oh no, sweetie, you don’t look too hot. You’re not sick before your big trip, are you?”
I don’t need to hear the response to know it’s Claire. I wait patiently for her to drag herself into my office, knowing she’s moving a bit slow today.
And when she does, it’s quite possibly the most dramatic thing you’ve ever seen. I’d make fun of her if I didn’t know how sick she actually is. She’s in awful condition. Awful enough to warrant an actual sick day, which Claire never takes. I almost took one too, simply because I didn’t want to leave her this morning. She kicked me out. Literally, she kicked me in the ass, chucked a pillow at my head, and screamed, Out! Get out!
Claire glides across the room with her head down, shoulders sagging, oversize sunglasses on her face and a bag tucked under her arm.
“Hi sweetheart,” I greet her, opening my arms as she drops the bag on my desk and plops down in my lap, nuzzling that gorgeous face of hers into my neck. I pull her legs up and cup the back of her head, kissing her forehead. It’s still warm. Hot, actually. She was one-oh-two this morning when I checked her. “What’d the doctor say?”
“Strep throat,” she murmurs, nuzzling harder, deeper. My baby’s a baby when she’s sick. I don’t mind. I want to take care of her.
Rubbing my hand down her back, I rest my cheek on her head, holding her close. “Do you wanna postpone? We can go in a couple days when you’re feeling better.”
She sits up, shaking her head. I pull the sunglasses off her face, finding her eyes all sleepy and bleary. I kiss each one when her lids flutter closed.
“I want to go, Avery. I got a prescription. I’ve already taken my first dose, and the doctor gave me a shot of vitamin C. She said I should feel like myself by the morning.” She grins, dragging the tip of her nose across mine. “She said I won’t be contagious by then, either.”
“Mmm. So I can look forward to sticking my tongue down your throat then?” I haven’t gotten more than a closed mouth peck on the lips since yesterday morning, considering she could barely cart herself through the door when she came home from work yesterday afternoon. She didn’t eat dinner, passed out on the couch in her work clothes, and I towed her off to a cool bath before I dropped her in bed before seven.
“Uh huh.” She drags her closed lips across mine, swallowing back a moan. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s desperate for more or because her throat hurts. Sighing, she rests her cheek against my shirt. “I’m so tired.”
“You should be home in bed, cuddling with the zoo.” Chester’s awoken a wild streak in lazy, old Sully. Those two are insane together, and when Vivi comes over, all hell breaks loose.
“I wanted to see you.” She swings an arm out toward the bag she dropped on my desk, flicking her hand around. “And I brought you and Wyatt lunch.”
I ruffle the messy bun on top of her head.“You’re a princess.”
“I’m a queen,” she mumbles sleepily. “Just gonna rest here for a bit, ’kay?”
“Mhmm. You do you, baby. You know I work better with you around.” Untrue. She’s highly distracting. Still, I’d rather have her in my arms.
She’s out cold in two minutes, breathing deeply against my neck, small fist clutching my shirt while I work around her, thinking about how I could do this every day. If she took up every inch of my personal space for the rest of my life, that’d be just fine with me.
Wyatt strolls in with his hands in his pockets, whistling a tune. He halts just inside the door when he sees Claire sleeping in my lap, a smile tugging up his face. “I came to see if you wanted to grab lunch. Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”
I tip my chin toward the bag on my desk. “Claire brought us lunch.”
“Mmm.” Wyatt rubs his hands together and drags a chair up to the desk. Unraveling the paper bag, he inhales deeply. “Fuuuck, Thai food. She’s the best.” His blue eyes flicker to Claire as he pulls out the boxes. “What’d the doc say?”
“Strep throat,” I tell him, saving the document I’ve been working on before swiveling toward the food. My stomach starts growling as the spices invade my nostrils and I inhale that scent like my life depends on it.
“She gonna be okay for this weekend?”
“Doc loaded her up on meds and said she should be feeling better by the morning, so, I hope so. I know how much she’s looking forward to this.” I stab at some chicken and shrimp pad Thai. “Sophie coming?”
Wyatt shakes his head, eyes downcast as he shovels food into his mouth.
“She busy this weekend?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Donno. Didn’t ask her.”
My brow lifts. “You didn’t ask her? Why not?”
He shrugs again. “Didn’t feel like it. There’s lots of us going. It’s not like I need the distraction.”
