“Abigail! Baby?”
“Okay, I have to go home. Hold on.”
Sean listened while she talked to someone about a trash can. She kept saying “I’m sorry” over and over until the guy in the background told her it was all right.
“I’m back,” she said.
“What’s going on? I’m coming to get you.”
“No, don’t do that. I’m almost to my car. I just have the flu or something. I’m going home. I think I need to lie down. Will you be able to take these things to the warehouse for Carl? He needs them by tonight for the new set.”
“Sure. Ron and I are going to head to the diner to grab some lunch. I’ll come by after that. Want me to bring you something? Wait, didn’t you have the flu last week?”
“Yes, I can’t seem to shake it. It’ll be okay. I just need to sleep. I’ll see you in a bit. Oh crap!”
“What? Are you okay?” The panic always seemed to be riding just at the back of his mind.
“I got to go. Crap, I need a trash can. Talk to you later. Love you.”
The call ended before he could tell her the same. Shit. The poor woman had been sick for over a week. He’d made her pancakes the last four mornings, and no sooner had she’d eaten them, they’d come back up. He needed to talk to Eric. Maybe she had an ulcer from all the worrying she’d been doing since they’d met with the police.
“Well?” Ron asked as they walked out of the warehouse into the warm afternoon sunshine.
“She’s sick again. Do you think Eric could take a look at her? I’m really worried she’s got an ulcer or something. She can’t keep anything down.”
“Sure, I’ll give him a call after we eat.”
“Great. Thanks.”
By the time they got to the diner, only two seats were still open. They claimed the seats and grabbed two menus. The red-haired waitress sauntered over to where they were sitting. “Why do you two even grab the menus? Wait, I’ll be a good waitress for ya.” She cleared her throat for effect. “What can I get ya?”
Ron beamed his bright smile. “How about your ass bent over this counter, sexy?”
The older woman grinned and tapped him on the head with the pencil she had perched between her fingers. “You’re such a tease, Ronnie. When you’re ready to give up on those cocksuckers, give me a jingle. Now, pretty boy,” she said and turned her sharp tongue on Sean. “You want double bacon with cheese, double fries, and an extra-thick vanilla shake. Sound about right?”
Sean wished his smile was as nice as Ron’s but gave Rosie a grin just the same. “Sounds great.”
“I’m worried about her, you know?” Sean said as Rosie walked away to help another customer. “She hasn’t felt good for like a week, and she just hasn’t been herself. I know she’s scared to death that asshole is going to jump out of some corner. She’s trying to move on. I just wish I knew how to help her more. I want her to feel safe.”
“Hey,” Ron said and nudged Sean’s shoulder, “she’s going to be all right. She’s a tough bird.”
Sean knew how tough his baby was but still wanted to protect her and hold her and keep her safe. “I think I’ll call her again.”
“Hey, she’s on her way home. Let her rest. Besides, don’t you two see enough of each other living in your place?”
Sean smiled. It was great having Abigail living at his place. It took a lot of smooth talking on his part, but when she’d finally said yes to moving in, he’d been relieved. First thing he did was buy a queen-size bed and sheets. They’d taken a chunk out of his savings, but he’d do anything to make her comfortable. He’d even painted the bedroom a calming blue and the living room beige. It was a start.
“It’s a bit tight,” he said and sipped on the milkshake Rosie slid in front of him.
“Are you guys going to find a house?” Ron asked. “I know you don’t want her to move back into her apartment.”
The thought of a house, something permanent, made his chest tighten. Would she want that with him? No one had ever wanted anything permanent with him. Not his mother, not the foster parents, hell, not even the Department of Corrections. “I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it. We’ve been so focused on helping the police find her ex and getting the company back in order, we haven’t had time to plan anything. What about you and Eric? How come you two don’t live together?”
Ron winked at Rosie when she put the plate in front of him. She winked back and took his glass to fill it with more soda. “It’s complicated. He wants me to move in, but I don’t want him to take care of me. He makes a lot of money, and what do I have to offer? I can fuck like an Olympic gymnast. I’m the best top any man could ever dream of. I guess I’ve got those going for me.”