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“Yeah?”
“What’s the most accurate sort of thermometer?” Ed asked.
“Oh, that would be the rectal one.”
She gasped as he ended the call. That slimeball! Ed gave her a triumphant look.
She pointed at him. “Don’t even think about it, buddy.”
He leaned in. “I’m ordering one tonight. Now, take these. If you’re not feeling better in fifteen minutes, I’m taking you in.”
“That’s not what Xavier said.”
He tapped her nose. “Xavier isn’t in charge of your health. I am.”
24
“I think I should sleep in the spare bedroom.”
“Nope.”
“But what if I can’t sleep beside you?”
“You did just fine last night,” he replied before lifting her off the bathroom counter and carrying her into the bathroom.
“What if you can’t sleep?” she asked as he set her down on the side of the bed. She should have asked Xavier whether he thought it was necessary for Ed to carry her everywhere just because of a small cut on her foot.
Of course, that was assuming Ed would listen to Xavier. Even though he’d totally overreacted over her sore tummy, he’d still insisted on taking her temperature every half hour.
Yeah, he wouldn’t listen.
They’d watched the rest of the movie and had a lighter dinner. Her stomach had been fine once the antacids started working. Ed had spent some time working while she’d had a bath. With her foot wrapped up.
Now he was insisting that they sleep in the same bed. Okay, sure, technically they’d slept together last night. But she’d been totally out of it. This was completely different.
“Your job isn’t to worry about me, Georgie-girl.”
She frowned at that as he tucked her into bed. “Then what is my job, sugar plum?”
He gave her a look. “To do as you’re told, of course.”
Indignation rose inside her. “Ed!”
He grinned. “Your job is to stop worrying so much. To relax. Let me look after you.”
“My job is tough.”
“That’s why you don’t need to be worrying over me,” he told her.
She chewed at her lip as she watched him move around the room, getting ready. She was dressed in another of his T-shirts. She knew she should ask for her own clothes. But she liked wearing his.
Suddenly, he sat beside her. Grabbing her hand, he ran his finger around the palm. She sucked in a breath and raised her gaze to his.
“Good girl,” he murmured then leaned in to kiss her. The kiss was soft. Gentle. But it still stole the thoughts from her head, sending them tumbling through her brain until she couldn’t grasp hold of them.
When he drew back, his chocolate eyes were warm. “What’s your real worry, my girl?”
“That I’ll have a nightmare,” she told him.
