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We’ve been sleeping in one of the guest rooms, and though it’s been hard, it was initially okay because she was getting good rest. She slept through the weekend and most of Monday and Tuesday. Her fever finally broke yesterday, only to be replaced by this awful hacking cough. Since then, she’s been miserable.
I get up, following him down the hall. Waffles pokes his head out from the room the kids are sharing to investigate. Not finding us interesting, he curls back up beside the bottom bunk.
The small lamp on the nightstand in the kids’ room casts a shallow glow, enough to see that Emmaline is sleeping, her green dragon in her arms.
Ben raises his head. “She sounds awful.”
“She does. We’re gonna see if we can make her more comfortable,” I say, keeping my voice low so I don’t wake Em.
He’s been slowly coming around, saying more than one-word sentences at breakfast and dinner. So, there is progress.
Over the weekend, we made sure the kids got out and did something low stress while one of us cared for Cammie. Saturday morning, as promised, I took them out on the bike trails. Ben rode on his new bike while Em rode in a seat Finn installed on the back of mine. She was my co-pilot, yapping up a storm the whole time. We had a picnic lunch, then Finn swapped with me and took them swimming at his sister’s house. Sunday, we watched cartoons and had a lazy morning, then we picked flowers from the backyard for their mom and made get-well cards to put in the nest. They’ve had so much hectic, and I just want their time here to be steady.
Ben rolls over in the bed, and I turn to leave when his small voice calls, “Thank you for taking care of her.”
“It’s no hardship. We want to. I like you guys and want you here,” I reassure him. “Night, Ben.”
Despite his quietness, Ben is an easy kid to like, and I do want him here. He’s watchful, but he listens and likes to learn. And Emmaline is easily the most adorable kid I’ve ever met. However, keeping her pace is exhausting. I don’t know how Cammie’s been doing it on her own. I already respected her for working to support her kids when I suspect she’s not getting any help from her ex, but now I’m in awe of her.
By the time I get to our nest, Finn rests against a mound of pillows, cradling Cammie in his lap. I climb in beside them, cuddling up to Finn’s side and caressing her back.
“Sorry, I can’t sleep,” she says, looking at me with watery eyes.
“I’m sorry you’re still feeling so bad.” I kiss her forehead.
My purr joins Finn’s. She wiggles around, trying to get comfortable, but it only ends in another coughing fit.
“I’ll be back,” Finn says, passing her off to me and grabbing his phone.
My guess is Momma Fields is about to get a late-night call.
I carry her into the bathroom and turn on the shower to the highest setting to see if I can get the steam going.
“Ugh. This is not how I imagined us getting naked the first time,” Cammie says, voice nasally. “I’m a snot-cough monster.”
“You’re an adorable monster though.” I set her on the counter. “You imagined us getting naked?”
“Don’t pretend like I’m the only one,” she says, brow raised. Her red nose and watery eyes ruin the seductive look.
“Oh, I’ve definitely imagined it. In the shower. The bed. On the counter,” I tease her.
“Maybe when I’m not feeling like death, we can see if the real thing is as good as we imagine.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s going to be better.” I brush back her hair, wishing I could kiss her. “But right now, let’s focus on getting you well.”
I rummage around in the cabinet, looking through the dozen products Finn grabbed in a panic run at the store Saturday. There’s a steamer aromatherapy thing that looks like it could work, and I add it to the shower before going back to Cammie.
“Clothed?”
“No. A real shower sounds perfect actually.”
I undo her falling braid first, then tug her shirt over her head. It takes all my focus to get the sweats and undies down her legs without leaning in to scent her. She’s gorgeous, but this isn’t the time. I pick her up and carry her into the shower, opting to keep my sweats on for sheer sanity. She braces against the tile, moaning at the feel of the hot water against her skin.
The steamer is strong, cloaking the stall in puffs of mist and the tingling scent of mint and citrus. I lather up a sponge and start on her back. The soapy water drips down the curve of her ass, and my cock twitches against my leg. I ignore it, massaging her arms and then around her front. My thumb brushes against her nipples as I work, and she sucks in a breath. I try to be clinical between her legs, but she rubs her ass against me.
I cup her pussy with one hand and wrap my arm around her waist with the other. “Be a good girl for me and behave.”
“What if I don’t want to behave?” she asks, rolling her hips.
