Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Charlotte
Death warmed over, that’s what I feel like as Patrick helps me into bed. I try to grab the blanket to cover up, since I’m freezing, but the asshole pries it out of my hand.
“Sorry, sweetheart. You’re burning up way worse than before.
Just lie here and rest. Miriam and Malachy ordered supplies.
I’m going to run down and grab the thermometer.
” He brushes his lips over my forehead, and I’m grateful that he held me up in my bathroom as I brushed my teeth.
Even having cleaned up, I still feel sweaty, and I can’t smell great.
Patrick told me Lucky fell asleep, and I’m relieved to have help with him, but I also feel that same gnawing guilt. He’s only used to being around me, and Mrs. Bailey when he’s at day care.
The mommy guilt is back in full force, but even I can admit, I’m in no condition to look after him right now.
My abdomen cramps, and it’s so severe that I pull my knees up to my chest. The way my jeans dig into my stomach isn’t helping, and I rip myself out of them in a haze, kicking them toward the bottom of the bed.
The cool air is like heaven for a few seconds before I start shaking. I ache to roll up in the blanket and burrow, but Patrick was right.
I’m burning up.
My eyes ache, and every inch of my skin throbs. Pushing up on my arm, I rip my shirt off, tossing it aside with little care.
I forgot how miserable heat spikes can be. A whimper escapes as I fight the urge to burst into tears.
I need those pills, but I’m afraid they won’t help.
The doctor wasn’t wrong.
I’ve been on them for longer than is recommended, but I’m a single mom.
I can’t be away from my kid for a week every three months. If I had a pack, things might be different, but I don’t have a support system.
“Jesus,” Patrick hisses, hitting his knees next to the edge of the bed. “I’m right here, Charlotte. Can you open your mouth for me?”
I do, and he shoves the thermometer under my tongue. Bringing my hand to the device, I relocate it so it doesn’t jab into my skin.
“Sorry,” he says, grimacing as he cradles the back of my head with his hand. “Give it a few more seconds, and it should be done.” I breathe through my nose, and his smoky campfire scent almost makes me whine. “You’re okay. I’m going to take care of you. Lucky is fine. You’re both safe…”
I can tell he’s trying, but tears still spring from my eyes as another intense wave of cramps ravages my pelvis. The device beeps, and he plucks it free of my mouth.
“Fuck.” He rips off the cover and clicks the button to turn off the incessant chirping.
“What was it?” I ask, swiping at my eyes.
“108.9,” he says, digging into one of the bags he brought back with him.
“That’s high, but it’s not at the level where we need to take you to the hospital.
Can you sit up enough that you’ll be able to swallow a pill or two, or do you need help?
” He studies the bottle of fever reducers before popping off the lid and breaking the safety seal.
I shake my head. “I can’t take those. My stomach is already churning.”
“Do you think that could be a reaction to the fever?”
“I honestly don’t know, but I’m afraid to know what those taste like when someone throws them up.”
“That is a possibility.” He uncaps the bottle of water, holding it out to me.
“You haven’t eaten yet today, at least not that I’ve seen.
That probably isn’t helping. Look, I don’t have all the answers, but the research I did said the first step was fever reducers.
Well, that or you sweet-talk one of my brothers into shoving their knot inside you. ”
I push up on my forearm until I can lift my head enough that I’ll be able to take the medicine without pouring water all over myself.
“But not you?” The words aren’t even fully out of my mouth, and I already regret them.
He chuckles. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’d prefer to take my time. I don’t like the idea of your biology rushing you into anything, and you’re more comfortable with Malachy and Cormac.”
He offers me the pills, and I chuck them into my mouth.
Is he ever going to hand me the bottle of water?
Apparently not.
He tips it to my lips while cradling my skull in his other hand. I take several small sips, pulling back before I can drink too much and make my stomach hurt even worse.
He screws the lid onto the bottle, stands, and tugs his T-shirt off with a hand at the back of his neck.
I grimace as I spot the bandage on the outside of his arm from where I grazed him with that bullet. If that had been Blade, he would have beaten the ever-loving shit out of me.
“With that being said, I’m not going to let you suffer needlessly,” Patrick says. “I told Mal to come up as soon as he’s done assembling the playhouse. In the meantime, you’re stuck with me, sweetheart.”
I lie back down on my side, trying not to stare at Patrick’s chest. Out of the three men, he has the most cut physique.
Not to mention the tattoos.
And that fucking cocky swagger.
The universe has to be punishing me for something. I’m about to beg him to fuck me, and then he’ll never let me forget it.
My eyes squeeze shut, but he pulls his belt free of his belt loops—I can tell based on the sounds.
His hand feels cool against my shoulder as he gives me a gentle shove onto my back.
My eyes pop open as my heart races.
The sexy little smile he flashes as he crawls onto the edge of the bed makes goose bumps erupt on my skin.
That’s ridiculous.
He plants his hands on either side of my head as his knee comes to rest between my thighs.
My lips part, and I’m sure he’s going to kiss me, but the fucker marks my cheeks with his pheromones and rolls over onto his back in the middle of the bed.
I stare at the ceiling with my mouth hanging open, and he pats my hip.
“Come here.” He doesn’t bark the command, but my body snaps into motion like he did.
My face lands against his bare chest, and he wraps his arm around my back. His skin feels so much cooler than mine that I should be alarmed. In reality, all I can focus on is sniffing out where his scent is strongest.
I’m only in my bra and panties, and he’s in his jeans and socks. It’s a more intimate position than I’ve been in with a man in years.
I follow my nose up his chest and climb right onto him, burying my face in his throat. An embarrassing cooing sound spills from my lips, and my face heats.
Cooing is a sound omegas make when they’re safe and content.
“Got any tips for how I can make myself purr?” he asks, sounding amused.
“Not a single one. I don’t possess that skill.” I plaster my lips closed to keep from licking his skin.
“I supposedly do, but I’ve never been able to figure it out.
” His huge hand plasters to my lower back, and his calloused skin scratches over mine.
“Breathe me in and try to get some rest. Mal should be up soon. That, or Cormac will check his phone and they’ll be fighting over who gets to take my place. ”
I want to suggest that all three of them should cuddle me…preferably in a nest. I’m sure this house has one, but none of them have offered.
My nose stays in his neck, and I bring my hand to the side of my face.
“Can you cover us up, please?” I ask, trying to pretend like we’re in a safe, confined space. “The room is really big and open, and my senses are frazzled.”
“Shit. You’d think nature would realize burrowing and hiding under blankets actually raises someone’s temperature, but I know it’s an instinct thing.” His legs move around, and he kicks up the blanket, reaching down to grab it. He pulls it up, tucking it around my lower back.
I really want it covering my shoulders, but I’ll take what I can get. “Thanks.”
Patrick wraps his arms around me once more, bringing one hand to weave into my hair as he cradles my skull.
The other hand splays over my lower back.
“We need to think about Christmas gifts for Lucky. It’s coming up fast.” His chest sputters, and an underused purr starts in his chest. “Huh. I figured it out. Your pheromones helped. Back to Lucky. Got anything in mind?”
“I bought him a few gifts. I brought those with me. They’re one of the few things I packed,” I say, shivering. “I don’t understand how I can be so hot and freezing at the same time.”
“Fevers do weird shit, especially when they’re as high as yours is.” He continues brushing his fingers over my back. “How about a dog? Every little boy should have a puppy to follow him around. It’s a built-in best friend.”
“You’re joking,” I mutter. “I can barely afford to take care of the two of us. Adding another living thing that needs vet visits and food would be a nightmare.”
“Bold of you to assume we’re ever going to let you leave,” he says, and it sounds like a dark promise.
I’ll blame the tremble that slides down my spine on the fever. Clearly my insides are frying…right along with my intelligence.