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The massage paused but then resumed as he expelled a breath. “Depends.”
“Earlier, you said I was a good mom. How do you know?” It was probably the most vulnerable question I’d ever posed.
He rearranged the pillows, allowing for me to get more comfortable. Then he pulled the blankets over my body before meeting my gaze. “Because only a good mother would ever worry about being a bad one. Tristan is a lucky little boy to have someone love him as much as you do.”
Damn. The man was making it impossible not to adore him on every level. “Thank you.”
He kissed my forehead. “’Night, Jules. Get some sleep.”
* * *
By the timeI woke the next morning, I was feeling remarkably better. Not big-egg-breakfast-with-pancakes-and-syrup better, but at least I wasn’t as feverish or nauseous. After ensuring I threw on some sweats, I brushed my teeth and walked out into the kitchen.
Mark was feeding Tristan in his high chair.
“Hi, Mama.” Tristan smiled and showed me his spoonful of yogurt.
“Hi, baby, how are you feeling?”
“Great.” It was his favorite response and made me grin.
“The real question is how are you?” Mark asked, studying my face. Before I knew it, he’d put a hand to my forehead.
“Much better. And I really can’t thank you enough.”
He shook his head. “We’ve been through this. I was happy to do it.” Removing his hand from my forehead, he seemed satisfied that my temperature was back to normal.
I smirked. “You say that now, but something tells me that come tonight you might be regretting your decision. And I do want to make it up to you.”
He flashed me a stern expression before relenting. “Fine. I love homemade pasta. Especially ravioli or tortellini. Is that something you make?”
Nope. Never had attempted it, but I’d certainly learn now. “Yep, definitely.”
“Good, then that’s how you can make it up to me. But, uh, maybe wait a couple of days.”
“You’re starting to feel sick already, aren’t you?”
He grinned. “I’m not telling. By the way, I stocked your fridge with Gatorade and got some bagels. And don’t you dare say thank you again.”
Smiling, I made a motion of zipping my lips.
With humor reflected in his eyes, he reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture seemed to surprise him so much so that immediately, he dropped his hand. “See you later, Jules.”
I was digging the nickname he’d given me way too much. “Sure. Later.”
