Chapter 35 Remington
Remington
The fire was a monster, and it took three crews and the entire night to get it under control and put out.
Thank fuck there were no injuries, and the place was abandoned to begin with.
That building has sat there for a long time taking up space and rotting.
Nobody would buy it or fix it up. It was an obvious case of arson that started the fire.
Gas cans and evident fuel trails led up to the building.
The whole thing was sloppy and screamed amateur.
Unfortunately, because the warehouse was not being used there were no active security cameras anywhere on the property.
Pulling into my driveway, all I could think about was another hot shower and crawling into bed with Lainey.
She was probably ready to get up and start the workday, but maybe I could convince her to sleep in late.
Wrapping her in my arms and smelling her honey shampoo was exactly what I needed right now.
The house was still mostly dark when I walked in, which I wasn’t expecting.
I figured she’d be in the kitchen making her cup of tea before needing to start getting ready for her workday.
“Lainey?” I call out and then listen, thinking that maybe she’s in the shower.
Walking toward the bedroom I hear a weird noise, but it isn’t the shower.
My poor woman is white as a sheet, sweaty hair pulled half back in one of her little claw clips, and she’s on the floor, gripping the toilet like her life depends on it.
Just as I fully push the door open, she pukes into the basin, her body shaking with the force of it even though not much comes out.
Realizing I am there when I smooth a hand down her damp back, Lainey startles. Looking at me with sick, glassy eyes she says, “Remington. Please . . . Go.” Her voice is like sandpaper, making me wonder how long she had been at this.
“Baby, I am not leaving you like this. How long have you been sick?” I touch her forehead, and her skin feels like a scorching flame on my hand.
Sitting back against the tub she tells me, “I got back around nine last night. Your dad dropped me off since you had to take the truck. I got ready for bed but didn’t feel good, so I went and laid down.
Then I guess I started puking around midnight?
Why, what time is it now?” She closes her eyes, utterly exhausted.
“Jesus, Lainey, it’s seven. You have been in here alone, puking for seven hours?!” The frustration I feel is not for her, it’s because I wasn’t here, couldn’t be here. But I’m here now.
“I wasn’t puking the whole time.” She points to a little nest of mismatched towels next to her that I hadn’t noticed before. “When I wasn’t expelling the devil from my stomach, I was laying down.”
Filling a glass with cool water, I hand it to her so she can rinse her mouth. Then I go to my medicine cabinet and get the thermometer to take her temperature. 102.6. I hum and look at her again.
“Okay, let’s take a quick shower together and then you need to rest—in bed, not your little squirrel nest you have going on in here. I am not sure you have anything left in your body to puke. We can put a pot next to the bed just in case.”
“Mmmmkkay.” Her head is bobbing to the side, and I know she is fading.
I turn on the shower, strip out of my own clothes, and then help Lainey undress as gently as I can.
The shower feels so good on my aching muscles, and I wish I could stay in here longer, but I need to get Lainey to bed.
Washing her quickly and keeping her weak body upright is a challenge, but I loop her arms around my neck and we get the job done.
Wrapping her in a towel, I scoop Lainey into my arms and set her on the bed. “Thank you, it feels nice to be clean after all of that.” She is watching me dry off and pull on my gym shorts. Even fevered and sick, she is still looking at me with hunger in her glassy eyes.
“None of that, Ms. Quinn. You are not in any state for me to make good on my promises from yesterday.”
A wild giggle leaves Lainey’s mouth that she tries to cover. “What’s so funny?” I ask her as I bring out her brush and blow-dryer, knowing that she hates sleeping with wet hair.
“Oh, nothing, it’s something your mom said yesterday.” She sighs, smiling and looking into space like she’s reliving the conversation.
“Care to share with the class?” I run my fingers through her hair, eliciting a moan from her lips that makes my cock come to life.
Not now, asshole, she’s sick.
“Nope.” Lainey pops the p sound and smiles up at me. If she wasn’t so sick I’d spank her perfect ass and start something she couldn’t resist. By the end of it I’m sure she’d tell me what made her giggle and give her that dreamy look.
After I finish drying her hair very carefully, having never done it before, I tuck Lainey into bed. When I bring her a large pot and put it on the nightstand she looks from it to me.
“Why a pot? Why not a bowl or trash can?” she asks out of genuine curiosity.
“It’s what my mom always did when we were little. And this pot has two handles to hold on to when you’re puking. Better grip than a slippery bowl. Less chance you spill on yourself.”
“That’s nice,” Lainey says, sinking into her pillow, “and gross.”
Laughing, I tell her, “Yeah, it is.” I climb into bed and pull her into my arms, finally getting what I was thinking about all damn night.
“I don’t want you to get sick.” She’s trying to pull away from me, but I won’t let her.
“Doesn’t matter. I need this, baby. If I get sick, I get sick.” I kiss her hot temple, and she sighs. I can feel her gearing up to argue, so I say, “I hate that you were here and so miserable all alone. Please just let me take care of you now, okay?”
“Yes, sir,” Lainey says, knowing exactly what that does to me.
“Sleep,” I rumble, tightening my arms and letting my own exhaustion pull me under.