Page 64 of Wife Number One

“I’m too heavy,” she protested.

I paused at the edge of the couch and stared down at her incredulously. That was what she was concerned about? “Woman, do I look like I’m fucking struggling?”

She averted her gaze as I lowered her to the couch, settling her gently on the cracked leather cushions. Fuck. Those things were so damn old. I should have had Ice get her a blanket or something first, but it was too late now.

I knelt beside her, taking note of the lack of color in her cheeks, the clamminess of her skin, and the too-fast breathing. Fuck. She was going to pass out again if she kept that up. I reached for her, needing to get my fingers to her neck so I could time her pulse.

She cringed away.

I froze but didn’t back off. “I just need to check your heart rate, Little Mouse. Then I’ll leave you be.”

Her bottom lip trembled slightly, but she nodded, and I pressed my fingers to the creamy softness of her skin.

I frowned at the sluggish blood that pulsed beneath my fingers, but it wasn’t the worst I’d felt, by any means.

“Is she okay?” Rebel asked, hovering over me.

“I’m fine,” Kara whispered. “I’m so sorry for all the trouble—”

“I need some pillows.” My gaze landing on Ice. “Go to my room and get all the pillows off my bed.”

To the younger man’s credit, he did exactly what I said this time without giving me any of his usual smart-assery. He came back with two pillows encased in the silky black linen I liked. I lifted Kara’s feet and shoved the pillows beneath them to keep them elevated.

I racked my brain trying to remember the other things you were supposed to do when someone fainted.

Loosen clothing.

I flushed hot at the thought of peeling off that too-tight little T-shirt that could barely contain her tits. Of removing the ugly gray skirt that seemed like it had been made from a flour sack or something of equally cheap material. Despite its shitty quality, it did nothing to hide the curves of her hips that would be perfect for holding on to while I fucked her from behind.

She was fine. I wasn’t loosening any clothing.

Except maybe the denim currently strangling my erection.

I pushed back onto my feet, twisting so no one noticed I was getting hard. Fucking hell. This day had been one extreme to the other. Couldn’t get hard for Amber. Then getting hard over the church mouse, of all people. It was probably me who needed a doctor.

I let Rebel and Bliss take my spot, fussing over Kara, and slammed my way into the kitchen. Without thinking about it too much, I opened cupboards, rummaging through each one, searching for where we kept the tea nobody drank.

I slammed a door shut, frustrated when it was full of spices and herbs instead of the stuff I was searching for.

The kitchen door opened, and Rebel came in, pausing as I shut another door too hard and the crack of wood on wood bounced around the room.

Rebel raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, walking to the cupboard where we kept glasses. She took one out and then moved to the sink to fill it with water. “Sorry to get in your way,” she said quietly. “Kara just wanted a drink.”

“Yeah, I figured as much,” I answered. “Found it!” I pulled out the tea which was likely stale because who knew how long it had been hidden away in the back of that cupboard.

Might have been five years. Since the last time I’d seen Kara drink it.

I studied the package for an expiration date.

Rebel’s stare was intense enough for me to notice even though I wasn’t looking directly at her. “What?” I snapped.

“That’s Kara’s favorite tea. Peppermint and chamomile.”

“That’s why I’m making it for her.”

“How did you know that?”

I shrugged. “Just do.”

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