Page 57 of An Endless Memory

Shit. The dog was going to wake Kellan up. I pushed away from the wall. Another surge came and I draped myself over the toilet bowl.

Another bark.

He’d have to wait. Another heave racked my body.

How was there anything left?

The barking cut off. Did Cali let the dog out?

Panic tried to take over, but I kept my breaths as even as possible and listened. I didn’t hear doors opening and closing, and Cali wouldn’t be subtle. As long as she stayed in the house.

I hung my head over the toilet bowl. God, I needed a bath. I barely had the energy to drag myself to my bedroom. Cali had brought me a sippy cup full of water and a sleeve of crackers. Just looking at them turned my stomach.

I heard the front door shut and claws skitter on the floor.

“Cali?” My voice was hoarse. I couldn’t yell very loud.

There was no way she controlled that dog. Though he was getting better at listening to her.

I needed to check on her. And Kellan.

I flushed the toilet. One step closer to getting up.

The bathroom door opened. The comforting scent of leather and sandalwood surrounded me as the handsome cowboy filled the opening.

I choked on a sob. Relief or humiliation? I was too sick to tell. “Oh, god, Eliot, what are you doing here?”

“I was about to ask the same thing about Bug.”

Talking about the dog sapped all my energy, but it was better than noticing how the bathroom stunk, how I smelled, and worse, how I must look.

He squatted next to me. “You should’ve called.”

I nodded and closed my eyes. I only caught his long legs in my periphery. I didn’t have to see how devastating he looked. Yet his presence soaked into my bones, unknotting my shoulders and soothing my sore abdominal muscles. Without the stress of wondering how I was going to do it all, my body was readying itself to collapse.

“Eliot?” Tears streamed down my cheeks.

“Yeah?”

“I’m really sick.”

“I know. Cali accidentally called me. You want a hot soak?”

Had it been an accident? Cali had been worried about me. Chalk up another time I should’ve called for help. The tub was full of the kids’ bath toys. The thought of removing those had been exhausting. I nodded. “So bad.”

He moved away, not far, but I missed his heat. Within seconds, the bath was running.

I gasped. “The kids.”

“I peeked in on them when I was walking through. Both are asleep. I shut Cali’s light off, and I’ll get the tablet out of her bed later. Want a bubble bath?”

“Yes.” Anything to replace the smell of sick.

The smell of berry-scented soap filled the air. He dug out a couple of towels and a washcloth. I snuck a look at him through my dank hair. I wasn’t ill enough not to appreciate how fine his ass was in those jeans or the way his muscles flexed through his shirt as he arranged the items on the counter.

He turned, and I didn’t have the energy to pretend I wasn’t staring. He held a second towel in his hands, and his gaze softened. “Need help getting in?”

Yes.

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