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“I know, sweetie, but maybe some other time when we’re both feeling better.”
“How about I come in and entertain him, and you can take a nap?”
My face must’ve betrayed the deep desire to fall into bed before my mind could intervene. “No, no. I couldn’t ask you to. You’ll get sick.”
He was already entering my apartment and taking Tristan’s hand. “If I get sick, then you can return the favor by waiting on me. But for now, you need a break, Jules.”
It could be the fever, but the image of ‘waiting on him’ suddenly popped in my mind in the form of a slutty nurse’s outfit and giving him a sponge bath in a very naughty way. Add to that he’d called me Jules, and I was standing there a bit stunned. One minute I was wondering how I’d manage tonight, then the next my handsome neighbor tells me to take a nap as he leads my son over to his Legos to keep him entertained.
“I can’t ask you to do this.” My voice caught on the last word, and tears welled up at the unexpected kindness.
He dumped the bag of Legos and ruffled Tristan’s hair. “Hold tight, bud, while I get your mom settled.” He turned toward me.
My eyes got big when his hand felt my forehead.
“Jesus, you’re burning up. Do you think you have the flu?”
“Tristan’s only lasted twenty-four hours, so it’s mild if it’s the flu.”
“Did you take something for the fever?” His hand trailed down to the side of my face in an intimate gesture.
I shook my head, feeling a tear run down my stupid face despite my best effort against it. His kindheartedness was completely undoing my defenses. “I don’t have anything unless I want to start chugging the toddler version.”
He cracked a smile, pulling his hand back. “Let me run across the hall. I think I have some.”
He returned within minutes with two Costco-sized bottles of pills in hand. “I have Tylenol and Motrin. Not sure which is better.”
“I can piggyback them like I did with Tristan. Take Tylenol now, then Motrin the next time.”
“Good. Take some. What do you have to drink?” He crossed to my kitchen and pulled open the fridge door to survey the gallon of milk and diet Coke. I didn’t have anything else.
“Diet Coke is fine.”
He handed me one. “What about your stomach? When is the last time you’ve eaten?”
“Last night, but I don’t think I can do it. Tristan barely could, either. Um, he has cut up fruit in the fridge along with yogurt and noodles if he gets hungry for dinner. Cheerios in the cabinet. But please don’t give him any of the sugar.”
He opened the cabinet and raised a brow at my stash of Frosted Flakes, Pop-Tarts, and gummy candy. “I take it he doesn’t share in your, uh—”
“Sugar addiction. No. And you can pretend you didn’t see my dirty little secret.”
There he went turning red again. “Lips are sealed. Now then, let’s get you into bed.”
I quirked a brow watching him roll his eyes despite blushing at the way that had sounded.
“I seem to put my foot in my mouth a lot around you.”
Smiling, I assured him. “With me looking this way, I’d have to question your sanity not to mention your timing. And I put my foot in my mouth all the time.”
“It’s kind of cute when you do.”
Yeah. Cute. Like a puppy. Terrific. “I feel guilty asking you to babysit, especially because you’ll be exposed to whatever this crud is.”
His handsome face got stern. “Let’s make something clear. You’re not asking. I’m offering. You’re an amazing mom, but you need to take care of yourself, too.”
Oh, cluck. My lower lip wobbled, and tears clogged my vision. “Thank you.” It barely came out as a whisper.
“You’re welcome.”
