I refused the handshake, crawled on the bed, and nuzzled my face in her neck. “Take care of yourself, Sweet.”
She sighed, stroked my hair, and murmured, “You too, Filthy.”
I called her yesterday. She had indeed not gotten any better and, as promised, went to the doctor. She sounded horrible but managed to tell me that he put her on some antibiotics and gave her a kick-ass cough syrup that she thought might have caused her to hallucinate that pink elephants were trampling through her room. I, of course, didn’t think that was funny and almost got on a plane right then and there to rush home to her, but she laughed softly into the phone, then hacked up another lung, and assured me she was fine.
As I was getting on the plane to come back this morning, she had texted me to tell me that she had to go work at The Haven because Jimmy, the guy that normally covered the Saturdays, was sick.
I texted her back with a pointed reminder, You’re sick too. Stay in bed.
I’m not as sick as Jimmy. Plus, I feel better today, she replied.
I wasn’t happy with her flippant attitude over her own health, and I made my displeasure known. I’m going to redden your ass with my hand when I get home.
She was not intimidated. Promises, promises.
Pulling into The Haven, I don’t see any other vehicles. This is the second time I’ve been here, the first just last week when we got back from Chicago. Savannah wanted to get a few volunteer hours in and had asked if I wanted to come. I didn’t particularly, but I was making amazing progress on the manuscript now with Savannah’s help on all the other crap I had to handle, and frankly, I didn’t want to be away from her.
So I said yes.
And I had fun.
It was hard work, but seriously… how can playing with cute puppies not be fun? And yes, maybe I played with the dogs more than I helped Savannah, but she just smiled at me while shaking her head, and I let her do the dirty work while I rubbed every dog’s tummy at least a dozen times.
Pulling around back, I see Brody’s truck but not Savannah’s car. He comes walking out of the kennel just as I exit the Maserati.
Brody gives a low whistle. “Damn, dude… that is a sweet ride.”
“You can take it out for a spin any time you want, mate,” I tell him as he walks around it, eyeing the sleek lines and shiny paint.
“I’ll take you up on that sometime,” he says, and then adds on, “Looking for Savannah?”
“Yeah… just got in from the airport, and she said she’d be here.”
“She was until about an hour ago, when I found her practically keeled over on the floor. She’s way too sick to be working today.”
Cursing, I walk back toward my car. “Thanks. I’m off to go spank her for getting out of bed when I specifically told her not to.”
“Give her a whack from me,” Brody calls out, and I shoot him a wave as I get in my car to go take care of my girl.
I find Savannah in my bed—our bed really—curled up in a fetal position with the blankets pulled up under her chin. Her forehead is sweaty and her skin clammy. Sitting on the edge of the bed beside her, I stroke her head lightly and say, “Savannah… baby… I’m home.”
Her eyes immediately open and focus on me, and a sleepy smile comes to her face. “Hey,” she says, and her voice still sounds like a frog is stuck in her throat.
“Not feeling any better, I see.”
She shakes her head and coughs into the crook of her elbow.
“And didn’t I tell you to stay in bed? Brody said you were practically passed out on the floor today,” I chastise her.
Savannah’s eyebrows draw inward, and she whines to me, “I wanted to be better. I wanted to be better because I knew you were coming home today and look… I even put on sexy underwear because I wanted to seduce you.”
She pulls the covers down, and she is indeed in some sexy-as-fuck lingerie… black, see-through lace, and no matter that my girl has a red nose and snot running out of said nose, my cock twitches at her beautiful, lace-clad body.
I pull the covers back up around her and tuck them back under her chin. “Bad girl. You had no business being out of bed, and you certainly are in no condition to prance around in that get up, trying to get me all hard, knowing I can’t take advantage of you. I’m so going to tear your ass up when you’re better.”
She’s feeling well enough to give a soft laugh over my non-existent threat, and then she gives me a tender smile. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” I tell her as I lean over to kiss her forehead. “Now, when was the last time you ate?”
She shrugs her shoulders, and I give her a disapproving glare. She grins back at me.